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The End of the Lie: What it means to be human....
Di Ye Yuyan
Azioni libro
Inizia a leggere- Editore:
- BookRix
- Pubblicato:
- Dec 26, 2019
- ISBN:
- 9783748724520
- Formato:
- Libro
Descrizione
Informazioni sul libro
The End of the Lie: What it means to be human....
Di Ye Yuyan
Descrizione
- Editore:
- BookRix
- Pubblicato:
- Dec 26, 2019
- ISBN:
- 9783748724520
- Formato:
- Libro
Informazioni sull'autore
Correlati a The End of the Lie
Anteprima del libro
The End of the Lie - Ye Yuyan
Munich
Ch.1: The Lie of Living
The Lie of Living:
This is a prose lacking any substance, this denotes my current state. A substance less being that can only reproduce the accounts of others. In my own lacking, my prose shall be a systematic approach to the reduction of life. This may sound quite unsettling, but it is the only rational conclusion to my suffering. A faceless entity that inhabits a strangely shaped temporal being known as me. I cannot truly define myself as a part of my own existence, this is the essence of living which I lack. I have a distance between who I am, and what I am. I am different, that I have always known with a strange certainty. I have existed in a state uniquely different to my peers, it sounds arrogant to say. It is not some blessing but rather a curse, I fear the many duplicitous faces that human beings hide. Yet past the fear, I have always been curious as to the thoughts of the people I exist near. Autonomous moving being who often have varying thoughts of my own existence, perceptions that define their interactions with me. To my mother I am a son, to my teacher I am a student, to my friends I am a comrade, and to God I am a slave.
Before I could understand what, I was, I knew what I was in the eyes of others. It is not some critique of the concept of nature vs nurture with a focus on nurture. But in a sense, I do not have that a sense of self that is unique to my so-called peers. Where they can find pleasure in the most banal of things, I could not help but feel puzzled. The act of eating which evokes primal pleasure in the glazed over eyes of my family, I lack almost entirely. I often ate as if it were a chore, a daily maintenance that was only mind numbingly tedious. The very act is rather disgusting, to simply stuff a slobbering grinding machine with the sustenance of life to be mashed and digested. While I was conversing with an acquaintance of mine, going through the process of social bonding. She started to ask me an almost machine like set of predetermined questions about various topics. How did I feel about this or that? It felt as though she was testing my ability to feel, to assess if I had any humanity. I answered her questions sufficiently until she said to me I just adore pine trees, what is your favorite tree?
I felt tongue tied, how does one begin to evaluate a tree? As if some guidelines had been decided and given to others but not me? How was I supposed to perceive things as good or bad? I was born with no guidebook to evaluating life in its many
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