the root of all evil is not money. it is not greed, or any other “sin”. it is the perversion of perception. it is to separate “good” and “evil” to begin with. “light” and “dark”; “creation” and “destruction”; “feminine” and “masculine”: those who have been taught there is a line between the two, cannot understand either. it is a product of the imagination even to say that “1″ is separate from “zero”. physicists have done well to prove this, as they have followed their numbers into realms where all of their equations fall apart. into delusion, where they ought be sent. man cannot gain understanding by dividing his reality into smaller and smaller pieces. exactly the opposite, his field of view has been reduced. this story is told by the history of language itself. where once he had many symbols for the infinite and the large, he now has many symbols for the small and the finite. the zoroastrians, for example, had 101 names for “god”, all bearing a different meaning. the earliest symbols appealed to the holistic nature of man’s mind, which saw the giants of the cosmos. today’s symbols appeal to the fragmented nature of man’s mind, which is drawn to think of the “atoms” and “molecules” and the even smaller things. the children of today are made anxious just to think of the vastness of the void, because they can no longer fathom it.

I just don't understand my "family". I leave my purse and wallet out on the table and they come and go through it. They just pick my wallet up and flip through my check book. And when I said something my grandmother got mad. She just got mad and smarted me off, then walked away. It's like this all the time, it's like I'm supposed to let them run over me and do or say whatever they want about me or my stuff, and if I say anything I'm a bitch or I don't know what I'm talking about. Honestly it makes me sick just to be here. Sometimes I just feel like I can't take it anymore, like my time is over and I should just commit suicide.

This all started about a year and a half ago. I was spending the night at my best friends house for the first time and i got a little warm so i was changing into a tank top and while i had my shirt off his step dad came into the room. i saw him give me a strange glare and walk away. i hadn't thought anything of it for about seven months. Then after noticing that we weren't hanging at his house at all anymore i started wondering. so one day after school i went over to his house. his mom let me in and we talked until he got home. Throughout the this whole time his step dad has blocked my number on their home phone, tried convincing the homeowners community not to allow me to walk on his street, he's banned me from his property, and his son can no longer come over to my house at all anymore. Ive overheard his dad call me a few very unflattering names. and his mom has called my parents a complete waste of time. I'm wondering what options i have either to file a suit against him or how i can get him to understand what he has done over the years.

Hello,

Well for starters I wanted to say that I'm a Seventeen year old girl who has recently been diagnosed with GAD. I have always feared a lot, and would always obsess over a certain thing/thought. I never really thought much of it, but now that I look back, it all makes sense. When I was around Seven years old, my older brother had came home from school one day and told me about germs, he explains how they were all around us. I quickly became obsessed with the thought that I would catch all these germs and catch a deadly illness and die. Every time I touched anything or anyone touched my hand, I would run to the bathroom and wash my hands. I was washing my hands up to 15 times a day and I didn't want to touch anything at all... Well like I said, I never thought much about that.. Until recently during summer break I had nothing better to do, other than watch TV, and everything I saw had to do with murders and people going insane. Well I saw this episode on a Hispanic show about a lady who had some type of Multiple personality disorder, who ended up killing her boss. She took medication for her disorder, but that day she forgot to take it. She didn't realize she had killed her, until the memory of her kept haunting her. She would see her everywhere, and she would speak to her telling her "You did it, you killed me" much later she got the clue that she had committed that murder. Well I quickly became obsessed with the thought of me going insane or sleep walking and doing such thing. I actually started putting things against my door so if I did sleep walk, I wouldn't be able to get through. The thing is there hasn't been a time where I have slept walked. The thoughts used to be much worse, but I've been seeing a therapist since the moment I realized I had a problem, and I've been feeling much better. There's days where I feel completely fine and happy and then there's those other days where I completely panic and feel like my world is falling apart. I would much rather kill myself than to ever hurt anyone in anyway. The thought of doing such thing causes me so much emotional pain, because I know that I wouldn't hurt anyone. Sometimes I cant help but feel so hurt and upset with myself because of those thoughts, that I just want to end my life. I try to talk to the people who I love about this and try to explain it to them, but they don't really seem to understand. They say "Oh everyone has those types of thoughts, just get over it" although, everyone might have those types of thoughts, I cant seem to just "get over it". I basically want to know, is there hope for me? How many others can relate to the way I'm feeling?

Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.