My Wandering in the Dark Forest.

The path of philosophy leads into a dark forest centered around my consciousness and shaded by my unconsciousness. I know the concrete path that I am walking, but I am haunted by the darkness surrounding me. This fear of the unknown and being pursued does not distinguish or weaken by itself. It always increases as I get deeper into the forest. There is no turning back once I make my first step on the path.

The ambiguous images hovering over me are black clouds that never diminish. Every time I make the effort to objectify them I fail helplessly, and I create thousands more clouds instead. The reasons why clouds form and how they form are mysteries that I cannot probe. All I am capable of is to let go of my desire to manipulate the things around me and to master this world.

Yet even this is extremely difficult, because I construct this forest by mastering existing materials. To not master anymore is contradictory because once I retract my hands from building, the forest collapses and the path disappears, and what will I be? A nothing no longer at nowhere? To imagine and understand this concept is blood-curlding, like hoping to see the wholeness of my heart but only discovering that it is hollow. The trap of authenticity.

I admire those who work with psychoanalysis because psychoanalysis is such an art that counts how many clouds are hovering over your head. It brings you deeper into the forest and leaves you there by yourself. It then laughs at you as you struggle to find your way back and gradually accepting the fact that there is no way back. You cry, you curse, you wave your angry fist but nothing responds. In this world you are nothing, your actions are nothing because you are alone. To achieve such catharsis is to dilute your body into the forest; to mastery is to forgo the spatial and time frame.