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What happens to a man when he has nothing to look forward to? What must be the next, logical consequence to this unfortunate occurance be? let us follow the rabbit hole. Can a man truly have "nothing to look forward to"? Many would say no, by our very nature, namely rational, we can hypothesis, imagine, hope, thus creating endless elements for a future object to be supplied to our intellect and for us to "look forward" to it. Yet, this opperation of the intellect is not necessary, such as, "reasoning" is to the faculty of "reason". A man, by having reason, cannot cease to employ his reason. He may be misinformed, and use it incorrectly, but the actualization must be constant. Ergo, a man MAY look forward, but this act is not necessary, leaving him to lack its performance.
So a man can, not look forward to anything. Where then does his gaze, inner and outer, look towards? If not forward, then behind, oui non? Presuming, of course, that the gazer gazes from the present, thus excluding it, the present, as an object of the gaze. Then we have a man who soley beholds the past, in all its unchanging, and unchangeable glory. Now we can examine the result of such a state. Due to the nature of the past being unchangeable, the viewer must be limited to finite # of observations, due to his never extrapalating any new, and thus forward thinking, propositions or knowledge. He, ah fuck it, the four shots of espresso are wearing off, and from what I can tell, i just verbaly diahread all over the screen. Im bored, parched and its saturday night.
So a man can, not look forward to anything. Where then does his gaze, inner and outer, look towards? If not forward, then behind, oui non? Presuming, of course, that the gazer gazes from the present, thus excluding it, the present, as an object of the gaze. Then we have a man who soley beholds the past, in all its unchanging, and unchangeable glory. Now we can examine the result of such a state. Due to the nature of the past being unchangeable, the viewer must be limited to finite # of observations, due to his never extrapalating any new, and thus forward thinking, propositions or knowledge. He, ah fuck it, the four shots of espresso are wearing off, and from what I can tell, i just verbaly diahread all over the screen. Im bored, parched and its saturday night.
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