Dear Reader,

It’s late morning and I am sitting at my desk. I’ve had to turn on the light because it’s cloudy today and my room doesn’t get much light because the only window in my room faces North. No sunlight ever enters my room from this window. If I leave the door open, I can get a sliver of sunlight in the morning when the sun peeks out from behind the mountains. For a few moments, I get to see a thin, glowing rectangle on my wall. It moves down in a matter of minutes and then disappears.

Maybe that’s why I got depressed after living in this room for years. And maybe that’s why I got into philosophy. Maybe that’s all philosophy is; a desperate attempt of a lonely mind in a sunless room to try and understand the world. Some people, when they are depressed, listen to the blues; others try to figure out how the world works.

The hope is that one day we will be able to understand the world and it will all make sense. This hope acts as a substitute for the missing sunlight. But maybe it’s just the distraction from one’s present circumstances that the philosopher seeks. That, and some companionship among the ghosts of dead philosophers.

I try to focus on the sounds I can hear. Birds are chirping outside. A truck full of sand, tumbles down the dirt road outside. These trucks have such horrible suspension and are so poorly maintained that it sounds like the truck is exploding into little pieces of shrapnel as it rolls down the dirt road. The main sound, when I really pay attention, is actually the ringing in my ears. I have tinnitus in both ears and they are constantly ringing in two slightly different notes. I am so used to this sound that I don’t even notice it most of the time. I think I developed tinnitus after working on ships as a marine engineer.

Sailors are supposed to wear ear muffs or plugs in the engine room but when you are young and you get used to the noise of the engine room and it’s hot and you’ve developed a who-gives-a-fuck attitude towards everything because sailing is tough and you want to project a persona of a cool, tough guy; you stop wearing protective gear.

Years later your ears are still ringing and you are still trying to project the cool guy persona, except this time you do it by dabbling in philosophy. Now I know what you’re thinking, “who dabbles in philosophy to be cool?” Adolescent teenager boys, that’s who. Some grow out of it; others become philosophers.

Thanks for reading,

Rudya Aditya