"There is but one truly serious philosophical
problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether
life is or is not worth living amounts to answering
the fundamental question of philosophy."
When I first met David Youngblood he said something very striking-- as he is known to do-- that I've often considered since. I am sure I remember it less eloquently than he said it: that every morning we must make the decision about whether or not to kill ourselves because we've got to know why we are getting out of bed and living.
The only reason to wake up, to live, is to practice freedom. To pursue that truth which compels us. Sometimes at the Bat Cave we might say that Alfred the Cat, the Bat Mobile or somesuch other thing are compelling truths. Only insomuch as they push us closer in our relationships with our most free selves.
The self that has access to truth.
The self that has taken care of itself prior to and in tandem with access to the truth.
To hate waking up (aside from the occasional bad mood dictated by a massive hangover) is to not know why one is living, a symptom of bad care and loss of truth.
Sugar, coffee, among other bad habits: [everything it seems I like's a little bit stronger, a little bit thicker, a little bit harmful for me].
"I wish I knew how to quit you," Jack Twist would say.
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