Kıtacı düşmanı olmadan ne güzel anlatmış
Sisyphus, in the ancient myth, is condemned to an existence that is generally acknowledged to be awful. He is condemned eternally to a task that is boring, difficult, and futile. Because of this, Sisyphus’s life, or more precisely, his afterlife, has been commonly treated as a paradigm of a meaningless existence.
The philosopher Richard Taylor, however, in a discussion of life’s absurdity, suggests a thought experiment according to which the gods take pity on Sisyphus and inject a substance in his veins that transforms him from someone for whom stone-rolling is nothing but a painful, arduous, and unwelcome chore to someone who loves stone-rolling more than anything else in the (after-)world. There is nothing the transformed Sisyphus would rather do than roll that stone. Stone-rolling, in other words, fulfills him. Sisyphus has found his passion (or perhaps his passion has found him), and he is pursuing it to his life’s content. The question is, what should we think of him? Has his life been transformed from horribly unfortunate to exceptionally good? Taylor thinks so, but some of us might disagree.
As I have already noted, the reason Sisyphus has traditionally been taken as a paradigm of a meaningless existence is that he is condemned to the perpetual performance of a task that is boring, difficult, and futile. In Taylor’s variation, Sisyphus’s task is no longer boring—no longer boring to Sisyphus, that is. But it remains futile. There is no value to his efforts; nothing ever comes of them. Even if due to divine intervention, Sisyphus comes to enjoy and even to feel fulfilled by his activity, the pointlessness of what he is doing doesn’t change.
You must nonetheless still live among other people, and they with you. And you have desires, wants, and needs, however unstated and unclear. And you are still motivated to pursue them, not least because it is impossible to live without desire, want, and need.Your strategy, under such conditions? Show your disappointment whenever someone close to you makes you unhappy; allow yourself the luxury and pleasure of resentment when something does not go your way; ensure that the person who has transgressed against you is frozen out by your disapproval; force them to discover with as much difficulty as possible exactly what they have done to disappoint you; and, finally, let them grope around blindly in the fog that you have generated around yourself until they stumble into and injure themselves on the sharp hidden edges of your unrevealed preferences and dreams. (…) Everything does not have to be given away for free. (…)
And you still must live with yourself. In the short term, perhaps you are protected from the revelation of your insufficiency by your refusal to make yourself clear. Every ideal is a judge, after all: the judge who says, “You are not manifesting your true potential.” No ideals? No judge. But the price paid for that is purposelessness. This is a high price. No purpose? Then, no positive emotion, as most of what drives us forward with hope intact is the experience of approaching something we deeply need and want. And worse, when we are without purpose: chronic, overwhelming anxiety, as focused purpose constrains what is otherwise likely to be the intolerable chaos of unexploited possibility and too much choice.
Sayfa 48 - RULE III: Do not hide unwanted things in the fog.Kitabı okudu
The Myth
When Haruki Murakami said, “That’s what the world is after all: an endless battle of contrasting memories.” When Sylvia Plath said, “I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead: I lift my lids and all is born again.(I think I made you up inside my head.) When Oscar Wilde said, “Actual life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical in the imagination.” When Albert Camus said, “But the heart has its own memory and I have forgotten nothing.” When Virginia Woolf said, “She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves.” When RM said, “Living is consecutively awareness and loneliness; whether you have many people around you or not, the little me inside myself was always lonely.” And when Suga said, “Today the moon shines brighter on the blank spot in my memories. 
Haruki Murakami 
Sylvia Plath 
Oscar Wilde 
Albert Camus 
Virginia Woolf