To walk through life with the fear that I could break at any moment, for any reason, has brought out both the most difficult, and most inspiring moments in my life. This fear, in solitude and in company, continues to inspire me to move forward despite it. I have learned so much about myself ever since signs of my disorder became apparent. I've learned I hold the disposition akin to any romantic. I've learned I feel a strong calling towards the discipline and practice of philosophy, as they have led me at nearly every path, corner, and area of my life. I have had my worst days due to philosophical ailment. And I have had my best days due to philosophical strength. I was at my worst for years during high school. I nearly didn't make it. I believed nothing mattered, especially my life. This falsity in the form of a belief guided me like a moth to a zapper. And, I heard voices for the first time during that period, not of my own. They were so loud, and terrible, and I struggled to the point where I almost took my life. I left this state after a friend committed suicide. The grief ailed me for months on end, and will never truly leave me. But it also strengthened me; It felt like I was able to look at myself in the mirror after this moment, and I felt inspired to be better for others, myself, and the world. This fear of breaking weakened. I stopped hearing voices, partly because of the medication I was on. I read Les Miserables later after this death occurred, and I felt so full of life and wonder I had previously known when I was a child. I realized later on in my life I was a romantic. And now, I know, people who suffer with what I suffer with, typically turn out as geniuses: Humans of only a humanic disposition. That hope shines infinitely brighter than the fear constantly at the back of my head. My dream is to become an educator, someone to help guide others to truth: what cannot be destroyed, in order to provide a source of hope and life for those who struggle with what I do. I believe we can all find our true selves, out there in the dense fog that is our era. It merely takes the act of looking in, and choosing to be guided by light instead of hurt. Everything inspires me because everything is everything. Nobody is all good, and nobody is all bad. The only way out of our conditions is through. The only way through is to acknowledge the acceptance of our condition as necessary, like tiring whilst climbing the hardest climb, only to rest, for stopping is as cruel to ourselves as letting our illness possess us.

I was suicidal and addicted for three years of my high school career. Addicted to the spell and delusion of existential nihilism: or the idea that life has zero value, especially mine. It drove me into damaging relationships; destructive senses of myself and the world; and near constant suicidal ideation. I bet, if people weren't there for me then, I wouldn't be writing this essay now. I also bet, if I didn't read Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, I also wouldn't be writing this essay. I read that book before my senior year of high school, the one year where I actually tried. The one year where my mental health was well managed. The one year I had friends. The year where I discovered the emergence of what I now consider my calling in life: philosophy. Reading Les Mis was my first serious exposure to the topic of morality, and spirituality. A scene in that book, being the longest chapter, consists of an epic internal conflict of the protagonist, Valjean: fighting whether he should keep his comfortable life, securing his high and noble position in society, and condemn an innocent man, or to sacrifice his comfort, and reveal himself as the criminal others believe him to be, to save one man. It was intense. It was page-turning. And, it was life-changing. There was no clear right or wrong answer in that context. There was no valid nor invalid answer. Yet, he chose to save one man's life and freedom. And, I began to love everything after reading that single chapter. I began to love the flowers, and the grass, and the people in my life - despite their flaws. I began to love myself. And I haven't felt suicidal once since finishing this novel. I'm now going into my third semester at community college, and to say I'm excited is an understatement. I feel so close to home when I'm in an academic setting, because learning is something I could never stop doing even if I wanted to. Learning new things is perhaps the greatest joy in my life. And, I wish to teach others. To cast the joy of learning onto others with the immense passion I have for philosophy: the love of truth. I hope and dream so often to reach a PHD in academia to teach what I've always felt called to. Even my addictive suicidal ideations which haunted me for years in high school was philosophical in nature. Although, now I understand nihilism is a worldly issue which seeks destruction in its nature. And that destruction applies both to The Self and The World. Every mass shooter in our modern history has been nihilistic for the simple reason of: nihilism is a framing of ourselves and the world which by definition seeks nothing. No value in life, law, love, others, art, poetry, beauty, nature, well-being, politics, economics, academia, morality, etc. (This is not to say all nihilists are mass-shooters. Merely, I disdain the worldview because of how destructive and possessing it can be). To be a teacher, to me, is to be a caretaker. Someone who seeks to teach others of the beauty in life and ourselves. To teach the ability we all inherently have: to exist, and potentially even live, despite our conditions. That is necessary to understand if we are to love ourselves and others. And love is necessary because to love is to be one with all things in the universe.

“By declaring that man is responsible and must actualize the potential meaning of his life, I wish to stress that the true meaning of life is to be discovered in the world rather than within man or his own psyche, as though it were a closed system. I have termed this constitutive characteristic “the self-transcendence of human existence.” It denotes the fact that being human always points, and is directed, to something, or someone, other than oneself—be it a meaning to fulfill or another human being to encounter. The more one forgets himself—by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love—the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself. What is called self-actualization is not an attainable aim at all, for the simple reason that the more one would strive for it, the more he would miss it. In other words, self-actualization is possible only as a side-effect of self-transcendence.” (Viktor Frankl) Viktor Frankl survived three different concentration camps throughout his life, including Auschwitz. As a psychologist and philosopher, he sought meaning in his suffering, as he knew that was the path to survival. He wrote about his experience in his book titled: Man’s Search For Meaning, first published in 1946. This book is perhaps the most significant piece of literature to come out of our modern era. A major claim of the book is that people can survive in nearly any condition if they have found meaning in their life. There is meaning in everything, and that understanding can be used to push both The Self and The World forward. This particular paragraph exposits the simple nature of self-transcendence as the letting go of ourselves; and self-actualization as the embodiment of truth. The aim of self-transcendence is to naturally break free of our constraints, whatever they may be. This may only be done without intention, as striving to transcend with intention is to transcend selfishly, thus merely providing the illusion of transcendence at most. To reach transcendence, I presuppose would require near absolute, or even total assimilation between The Self and The World. A self who “forgets himself” becomes “more human”, and thus, furthers their own transcendence. When transcendence, or actualization, ceases to be a subject's goal in life, they must then be on the path to it, as focusing so intensely on transcendence only provides another constraint to break free of. A person who goes through suffering, especially suffering unknown to any human alive before the holocaust, is presented with the attractive yet difficult choice to forget themselves. Breaking free of personal suffering when faced with true worldly suffering, becomes as simple as following necessity, especially when one is aware of their own strengths. Following necessity in a case of horror unbeknownst to me nor anyone I know, is perhaps the only way forward as necessity is a constant, especially when our desires are limited. The only way to soar through what keeps The Self constrained is to forgo The Self. This is not to claim that as an easy feat, as that is determinately difficult in any situation, however when faced with something where following necessity becomes a constant, it almost becomes necessary to forgo The Self. When presented with that as necessary, and non-desirable, it leads to a version of The Self akin to what is true. Truth exists everywhere. And, in that truth, exists the path to become one with The World. In a concentration camp—in hell, existed near pure suffering and hopelessness. Yet, Frankl and myriad others were able to survive, and even live past it. The entirety of Man’s Search For Meaning serves as evidence to the existence of truth in everything. Truth, or meaning in life, as Frankl put it, is to be discovered in the world. Not in The Self. The Self exists both separated and assimilated to The World. The True Self—The Transcended Self exists only assimilated to The World. Our psyche tries everything in its power to convince us this is not so. Our psyche exists to provide for The Symbolic Self. The Symbolic Self is separated from the world, perhaps as a mere sociological phenomenon, where we allow our present culture to determine who we are. The True Self, and The Symbolic Self, through a lens of conflict theory, exist at odds with each other. The Symbolic Self begs The True Self to forgo the world, and become one with what the culture tells them to value or not to value. The True Self begs The Symbolic Self to forgo the culture's tides, and become one with the world, despite its woes. T’would be The True Self to say: forgo the disease that is our era, lest it infect our souls along with our bodies and hearts. Love is all there is. Nothing else, I dare say, is real. The symbolic self may teach us that transcendence, or actualization, is something to reach rather than to let go and accept. This is the lesson of culture, not the world. And that lesson leads not to truth, but to self-imposed suffering as it keeps us from what it promises. The world, however, teaches us truth. One could look up at the sky and see clouds in the form of gods for inspiration of what they ought to do or be. One could look up at the ash spewing out of Auschwitz and understand vividly that God is, indeed, dead. All these truths, perhaps of a disputable disposition, are true because they are there, regardless of our opinions and beliefs. One could look around themselves in hell, and write: “Man is not fully conditioned and determined but rather determines himself whether he gives in to conditions or stands up to them.” (Frankl). What is true is determined by what is, and how exactly we observe what is. How we interpret what is, is different, and not inherently true. God being dead because one is standing in hell on earth is not an interpretation, it is an observation. The arguable existence of God, and the disputable nature of the statement, matters not because it was observed by the individual looking into The World, and out of The Self. For what would one have to possibly gain from the death of something often portrayed in certain conceptions of The World as true and good—benevolent? It is something which comes from observation. Nietzsche did not write “God is dead” as a theory, but instead, an observation. Frankl did not write “self-actualization is possible only as a side-effect of self-transcendence.” as a statement of philosophical pondering. He wrote it as an observation because Truth exists in the world, not inherently in The Self. Victor Frankl wrote this specific paragraph because, after going through hell, he perhaps reached self-actualization. If the owls of Minerva only fly at dusk, and a statement this wise could be produced by a man who survived Auschwitz among other concentration camps, then he must have understood the nature of actualization. That it is impossible to reach if one seeks it. That transcendence can only occur through the process of forgetting The Symbolic Self, and allowing who we are to become one with truth. He wrote it to provide others a path to the examination of their own sufferings, truths, loves, and reasons to live.

I was suicidally depressed for years in a fugue of "existential nihilism", or the belief that my life had absolutely no significance beneath the backdrop of a cosmically insignificant existence. If I stayed in this state, I wager to say, I most certainly would not have made it—and would have pursued my plan to venture into death. My issue was philosophical in nature (even though now I consider nihilism a pathetic excuse for philosophy), so it took reading something philosophically dense for me to truly step out of this multi-year long fugue: Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. Ever since I finished that book, not only did I have an existential resurgence in my sense of self, I also started focusing more intently on my academics. In fact, ever since I finished Les Mis, nearly every facet of my mental well-being has looked alien to what it once was. I wanted to die for so long, because I had nothing to hold onto. Even though that was a lie. The pervasive sentiment: "In the grand scheme of things, nothing matters because we are so tiny", possessed me and obfuscated what was right in front of me: all the people who were there for me, and who loved me. Love was obfuscated from me, by me, because of my simply immoral demon. I'm in a state now, where I consider myself an actual existentialist. I feel a stark calling to philosophy, as it's always fascinated me, and it's what I feel comfortable practicing in the best ways I can. Practicing philosophy is really just promoting a positive and constructive framing for others. I take a radical love approach to life: meaning I see love as perhaps the only true thing in this world. I try to show others love through my poetry, sense of self, and visualizations of everything that I love: everything. I see nihilism as an incredibly destructive, negative, and unfortunately pervasive force in the modern day. In fact, I would go as far as to say, nihilism, or any offshoots of nihilism (i.e. hedonism, absurdism, etc.), are at the root of our cultural and historical issues today, in one manifestation or another. Advocating for mental health is not only important for individuals, it is also important for the health of the world. That is my Why. My how—I volunteer for the national alliance of mental illness and mental health (NAMI), because I believe in the destigmatization of mental health issues. I start dialogues with peers, family, sometimes even strangers, in hopes to find common framing, or to potentially ensure a more positive framing if they are perhaps lacking. I do this because it is necessary, and because it costs nothing. It only provides for the parties involved at least potential emotional well-being and new-found composure. My philosophy professor, with whom I frequent discussion, has stated to me that he sees brutal levels of potential inside me. My mother and step-father agree. I agree. I know philosophy as a discipline is seldom truly respected. I find this quite ridiculous, as philosophy is a mental manifestation of care. What some people consider to be philosophy: nihilism, absurdism, hedonism, fascism, etc., is nothing more than a way to escape our issues rather than rushing them head-on. Embracing cowardice and forgoing courage, especially within The Self, is far too relatable, and necessary to change both within ourselves, and The World.

If there is one word to describe my selflessness, that word would be provocative. On the surface, there is very little reason or need for someone to be provocative outside of garnering attention. And, if provocation is embodied selfishly, the word is being twisted into something with intrinsic meaning. Being provocative, to me, means to evoke thinking in others in hopes that growth, and greater empathy occurs in themselves. Selfish provocation is being provocative to provide for our own sense of self, potentially at the detriment to others. Selfless provocation is being provocative to provide for others sense of self, potentially at the detriment to the provocateur. As there is a serious risk of antagonization if provocation is used inappropriately and ineffectively. I embody this selflessness by engaging with those, in an appropriate and effective setting, who are clearly suffering in one way or another. My best friend last year was in this spell of nihilism, which greatly affected her worldview to be focused more so on the rough parts of our world, and to have a more cynical sense of herself. It got to a point where she romanticized about genocide to those who have wronged her in a worldly sense. She idealized revenge onto those who have personally wronged her for years. Eventually, I decided to be as contrarian and provocative against these ideations as I saw it was clearly causing her to suffer. And my love for her could not truly accept that. I knew this had the potential to come at a detriment to our friendship. But I cared less about that, and more about the potential I could see in my provocations effect at an alteration of her worldview to lean more towards positivity for the world and herself. It took many months and many experiences like this; Emotional and hard experiences. Now, she's claimed hate has no room to belong in her heart. She has thanked me specifically for this. I recognize I'm somewhat of an intellectually mature person. But I find it pointless to use that to flaunt my own ability because that would be a selfish provocation out of intrinsic intention. I instead use it, whenever I appropriately can, to be selflessly provocative. Just last week, I went to a philosophy discussion at my community college on gender identity. This is a topic I'm so well versed in, it feels like second nature to me. Two older gentlemen came to this discussion out of a cynical curiosity directed towards the newer generations overall approach to gender. Their grandchildren and nephews are gender non-conforming, and they talked of their struggle with talking to them about gender. Partly because they were confused, and partly because life for them growing up was very different, and this wasn’t something they had to deal with. I was a vocal and provocative speaker for virtually the whole duration of this discussion, and one of them thanked me directly for helping him get a better understanding of gender identity. He told me he felt more comfortable talking not only to his nephews, but also to other adults in his life about it. They both walked away with a greater understanding, and I have faith their cynicism will fade with time, and they'll be able to have more constructive conversations with the people in their lives about it. Being provocative, to me, is to push the intellectual boundaries of others in hopes of growth. As we are always growing, we are each responsible for the growth of ourselves and others whenever we can.

I would create a class focused on teaching students of themselves. I believe there are roughly three major steps in leading a fulfilling, examined, and truly good life. These include: effectively understanding the world, effectively understanding the self, and effectively understanding the dynamic between self and world. I use the word "effectively" as fully understanding the world/self/dynamic is impossible. However, attempting to understand the self is infinitely better than acknowledging full understanding as impossible, and then choosing to give up. The common curriculum is typically focused on teaching language, math, science, and history. Language helps with framing and communication. Math is focused on teaching the world through logic and reasoning. Science teaches the more theoretical side of the world. History teaches us the past, and thus the ideal way forward for humanity and the world. These four subjects are, in an ideal setting, fantastic at teaching students how to frame, communicate, understand, and see the world in all its horror and glory. It is so focused on teaching the workings of the world, that I would argue the K-12 education system falters at applying the lessons of language, logic, theory, and time, into teaching the students about who they are. Having a class specifically to accomplish this single goal would be far greater than a simple emotional learning class or lesson. A class like this would be far more individualistic, personalized, and philosophical. How can that be accomplished in a heavily bureaucratic system? Simple, make it discussion heavy, thus eliminating dependency on busy work. Have teachers present information in a way best acquitted to their disposition and style, and ask them their thoughts and feelings on that information. Make it clear that this would be a safe space for growth, understanding, and emotional practice. I believe everyone has a unique and interesting personality, that may not always be at the forefront of their character. A class like this would help bring that unique and interesting personality to their forefront. Teaching students to accept and embrace the goodness of themselves, at a young age, in an effective manner, would greatly help alleviate not only their personal struggles, but also potentially the struggles of our time. I believe if we teach young individuals to be individuals, their interests in school may rise. Their interests in extracurricular activities may rise. Their interests in themselves may rise. Most importantly, their interests in life may rise. Will it work for everyone? No, but as long as participation in discussion on whatever topic is encouraged to everyone, the higher number of individuals to discover parts of who they are at a young age, may potentially be greater than ever in our modern age. Self-discovery is more than important, and to suggest children are somehow not worth the learning of themselves along with learning of the world, is simply cruel. I understand plenty of students K-12 understand themselves fairly well: they may have a great support network at home; they may not need a class dedicated to teaching them about themselves. However, there are people less than privileged, who may not always have the opportunity to truly give time to themselves, thus giving them a platform for self-discovery would have the potential to greatly improve their inner passion for all life has to offer, along with their performance in s. In fact, if a class like this were to exist in K-12, even if it fails in the experimental phase and lasts about a semester, I guarantee at least one singular person will gain something from it. And that will be more than worth it.

Books provide a vehicle to introspection, and thus, self-actualization. I've learned everything I know about myself from books for this reason. The book I read that caused me to fall completely in love with literature, and life, was Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. That book taught me that love is the easiest, and most powerful thing in the world. It persists beyond the arbitrary realm of condition, and material. Love transcends death. I've read nearly every day since I first finished that book, which took a considerable amount of time given its length. In fact, I read about two-thirds of Les Mis when me and my family visited Oregon for a week one summer. We were in a rental car for most of that trip as we were driving down the coast of California, seeing the sights, giving me ample time to read. Months before this trip, I had it in my head I would commit suicide when we got to Oregon. I knew how, too: at some hotel, I would expect myself to feel deep suicidal ideations in the middle of some night, I would then write personalized suicide notes to everyone important to me, then would take an elevator to the roof and fall to my death. Among other reasons, reading Les Mis provided me enough catharsis to escape this dangerous ide. I fell so deeply in love with nearly every character, theme, sentence, piece of diction, etc. I see myself in Valjean, who expresses arguably the highest ideal of rebirth and altruism throughout all of world literature. I see myself in Marius Pontmercy, who thrusts himself into revolution to find love and God as higher answers to the horrors of the world. I could go on. If I hadn't read Les Mis, I may not even be alive today. I especially would not express the same romantic disposition I do today. Every book I've read has helped me introspect into myself in one way or another. As an existentialist, I view the function of literature as a provision to look deep into our souls. This has created my ultimate goal of self-actualization. There's a character I relate to on a deeper level than any other in all the books I've read: Pierre Bezukhov from Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace. I consider him my role model for one simple reason: he actualizes by the end of his journey in the epic. He starts so naive, it causes him great pain. He turns to war, and revolution; letting cynicism taint his soul and blind his mind to the point where he believes Napoleon Bonaparte can be attributed to the number of the beast, 666. He seeks to murder him, and finds himself saving others from the fires raging in Moscow at the time, accidentally. He suffers for the whole book to return to his blissful naivety at the end, and living happily with his lover, and his family. What Pierre learned about himself was what he always knew. I know my course of life may prove exceptionally similar. There will be a day, past all the worldly sickness thrust upon me, where I look back, and see myself right where I started the day I was born. My goals are irrelevant, to me, the only true option is to let the tide of destiny take me where it inevitably will.

To ask why my mental and physical well-being are important to me, is to ask why we must drink water. It's a necessity, nothing more. There are entire universes comprising my body and mind, only to be cast irrelevant in the pursuit of truth. There are entire universes within a glass of water, only to be drunk as a source of life. Meditating on water's importance is just as significant a variable in life, as drinking it. Meditating, examining, and realizing myself, is just as crucial a variable in my life, as living it. There is no other option for me outside of being healthy. There is no profound and ancient piece of wisdom which can convince me otherwise. As an individual of queer understanding, who considers herself genderless, I understand there be no path to consider of treachery, nihilism, and a succumbing to the absurdities of this world which I shall go down. I have been down that path earlier in my life. I realized how fruitless, falsely pleasurable, and untrue that was. Through personal work, and starting community college almost a year ago, I've overcome this barrier of ideological unimportance in health. I've climbed the mountain of nothing to realize everything is my god. This newfound religious, contrarian, and provocative view of the world has shown me health as a construct. There is no such thing as being healthy. There is no such thing as being unhealthy. There is only necessity, and being alive. Mental and physical wellness, while not below me, belong totally to me. It is necessary to exercise wellness in pursuit of being alive, and in pursuit of greatness, whatever that may look like. I do, indeed, still face challenges in maintenance of my well-being. This is due to a lack of discipline. While not an excuse, I find discipline as a concept seldom valued, and especially seldom taught, in our western age of convenience. This understanding has propelled my wish for a teacher of existential, and wise, discipline. I have nearly all ideological strengths in this pursuit, yet I can peer into my destiny, and understand without a solid foundation of commitment in ideals, the future becomes foggy more than anything. That destinies me to be in a state of fogginess because I don't have the necessary commitment to accomadate everything that is sane and sunly in life. This, coupled with the fact I'm a student, plays a more significant role in the metaphysical presence that is time off from school. While I'm studying, my mind, body, and spirit must be focused on school to achieve some ultamitely insignificant number, that will only help me for material parts of life. From two full semesters at community college, I've maintained a 4.00 GPA, and see no reason to graduate with anything else. This proves the flow state I achieve out of nothing more than necessity within my studies is simply inevitable. Outside, I must focus on improving this craft of self, which proves far more challenging than anything inside school; particularly because it requires what I have yet to acquire: unbridled commitment.

My name is Josie Mckenzie (She/Her). I'm planning on transferring to a four year school to obtain a bachelor's degree in political science. My main interests in life right now are sociology, philosophy, literature, metaphysics, and poetry. I love all these subjects, for I find they present the truths of this world. What I have learned throughout my life, observations, and meditations, is that the world is sick and in need of medicine. What is that medicine? I find it to be a complete and total overhaul of the way we westerners live, which is baked in materialism. I believe material desire is as much a sickness as the common cold and shall be dealt with through the active anti-encouragement of frivolous material use. I find it to be a normalized part of the world, which is disturbing as placing value on material is to restrict value placed on true parts of life like humanity, the self, the world, love, etc. Material desire is what has led to environmental uncertainty, political horrors, cruel ideologies, and much more. It is the venom we have injected ourselves with, to the point where if we were to suck out that venom, we would essentially be de-assimilating with the surrounding culture. That's a herculean task as in order to do such a thing, we must first find and understand the universal truths of the world, in other words: we would collectively have to think and learn in a current, externally, unteachable way. This is the path individually, I find it does work well, however, on a systemic scale, examining the crowd as it is, many people are comfortable with the material status quo. This is problematic as there is nothing inherently wrong with comfort, thus making it so much more difficult to see the issues with ourselves and the world. What I plan to do with my life is to become a mystic. What does that mean? To dedicate my life to the pursuit of truth, and to share that truth with others as best I can. How do I do that? The next twenty years or so of my life will be dedicated to building experience and credibility in the western world via higher education and various employments. I do this so it may be recognized that I can actively change the world for the better by spreading universal truths, both within me, and around me. Transcendence in the western world means to me: I have become fully assimilated with nature, truth, love; and humanity as a whole. Once this inevitability has been reached, I will be able to communicate it all to the world with my poetry, writings, and actions. Ideally, the modern day will be looked back on as sick as I see it. Materialism shall be seen as the evil it truly is. And love will prevail, launching humanity into its truthful destiny.

The first paragraph of Volume III, Part III, of War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy goes as follows: "For the human mind absolute continuity of motion is inconceivable. The laws behind any motion become comprehensible to man only when he breaks that motion down into arbitrarily selected units and subjects these to examination. But at the same time this arbitrary sub-division of continuous motion into discontinuous units is the cause of much human error." The context of this paragraph and its subsequent chapter finds itself in the center of meditations on Napoleon and his foolish disregard to others humanity alongside his own, and a grand fraction of his philosophy on history as a concept. In this paragraph, to me, it reads as Tolstoy is implying a great critique on simplification both inside, and outside the context of war. Throughout War and Peace, Tolstoy infrequently breaks free from the plot to offer his own perspectives on philosophy, war, love, violence, materialism, etc. For example, the last section of the book (Epilogue Part II) is dedicated to about a forty page long essay arguing that free will does not exist and everything any human has ever truly done has been out of necessity. That essay, which I find closely linked to this paragraph, has greatly changed my perspective on nearly everything since I finished reading the book. The paragraph I use is dedicated to explaining a common dilemma that typically, many people are unconscious of. That being: when we are faced with a situation that seems too complex in nature, we break those parts down into smaller and smaller units to grasp a better understanding of the situation, even though we might subconsciously understand there's a better, more spontaneous way of understanding, and solving a situation. I find, in my life when I'm faced with a similar dilemma, breaking it down seldom solves the situation in a true sense. For example: Let's say I'm working a part time job that I hate because it asks something of me that inherently goes against my spiritual belief system, being to promote the obstruction of truth. I understand I am faced with a dilemma. What should I do? First, I ask myself a series of questions such as: Do I have a plan to effectively leave? Will others be apprehensive if I stop working here? What will I do for money if I quit? Will this be a smooth transition? Etc. Second, I come up with a solution based on these questions or sub-divisions of my problem. Typically, the solution to this dilemma would be one where I wait, and spend my personal time planning a way out, even though I'm well aware this job is inherently destructive to my spiritual health. Now, I am met with a series of dependent and complex variables despite the fact this is ultimately my decision. I have successfully complicated my situation so that, even though I do eventually leave, it will have been months since my initial dissatisfaction set in, leaving me spiritually wounded. The true, but far more difficult solution to my dilemma is one out of spontaneity. It is one where I quit and feel confident enough to know everything will be alright. It is one where I lean into my spiritual truth instead of a bureaucratic false-truth. Ironically, the sub-divisions I'm faced with as a potential solution to my issue generate greater complexities instead of actual solutions. While it is true absolute continuity of motion is inconceivable, it takes an understanding of that fact to mold it to one's benefit. It takes the act of taking a leap of faith to understand that even though continuity is inconceivable, it will, by definition, always continue. To subdivide a problem and move at a glacial pace in order to solve any existing issue is, of course, going to be the cause of much human error. Obviously, simplicity does not come from greater, arbitrary complexity. Simplicity comes from acting out of simplicity. The personal example I used is true. However, having been aware of this paragraph, and other philosophical and spiritual endeavors, I recognized the pointlessness of sub-division, and acted out of necessity and spontaneity when I quit my part time job. Broadening out to the original intent of this paragraph, war is a similar object of criticism when it comes to sub-divisions. This can be proved through the following train of logic: Why does war start? Because subject X wants control of subject Y. Why does X want control of Y? Because Y has object Z that would greatly benefit subject X. What is object Z? Object Z brings great wealth to any subject. Why does subject X want wealth? Subject X sees the obtaining of this wealth as a necessity to the betterment of their organization. How does subject X justify this war? Through a violent philosophy that reflects the nature of war, leaves countless dead, and even more to living a life full of fear and agony. Essentially, this implies the only true way to justify a horror such as war is to subdivide intention behind it. The intention is simple and can be obtained through more peaceful methods once the fact that absolute continuity of motion has been acknowledged by the whole collective, or at least the enablers and promoters of war. Leo Tolstoy wrote this paragraph to demonstrate the destructive capability of sub-division as a form of logic that is oftentimes seen as a necessity. This paragraph means a great deal to me as it has demonstrated common parts of life that are more absurd than they seem on the surface. This paragraph begs closer, and truer examination into life as a whole.

Over the past several years of my life, I have transitioned from being transphobic, to being trans, to understanding myself as a person of queer realization, and a gender abolitionist. When I was younger, I tended to be prejudiced against transgender persons. I looked up to my father for so long, who, truthfully, is living the unexamined life. Meaning, he was prejudiced against trans persons, therefore I was. Covid hit, and I made it consistently into highschool starting softmore year (2021-22). I made friends with the first trans person in my life, Ash. Around the end of 2021, after spending a considerable amount of time around Ash, I started questioning my own gender and began transitioning, slowly, into the person I am today. Several months later, in September of 2022, I had met a significant figure in my life, Max. He was a trans man, and soon after me and him met, I came out as a trans woman. My father around this time continued to mask his prejudice, to a failing effect. It would be a year later in 2023 where I decided to stop living with him, and live with my mother full time. Now, I believe I have discovered my gender, that being, genderless. I go by she/her, however, I consider myself a gender abolitionist because I see how destructive the concept, and forced stratification gender is. Gender is as much equivelent to personality as it is to quantum physics, meaning, it simply has no definition. It is an absurdity within absurdities. Coming to this conclusion has been difficult, and took significant amounts of help through converse with my closest friend, who is a trans woman. Cordelia has been there for me since around the time I decided to stop living with my father. I have been there for her as well, and she plays more than a significant part in having shaped the way I view gender and the world today. I believe every transgender person is, by definition, an existentialist. Meaning, having the courage to rebel against a cis-hetero-normative reality within oneself, is to value life to one of its fullest extents. This along with my great interest and passion for philosophy and existentialist theory, has fully inspired me to become a teacher. In fact, I see no point for me not to become a teacher in some respect. It's incredibly simple for me, I become a teacher, or I die (metaphorically). While it does matter what I do to reach my goal of, ideally, obtaining a PHD in acadamia, for the most part, what degrees I obtain on that path, are irrelevant. Everything I have known myself to be at heart, has been equivelant to a teacher of some kind. I wish to effectively show others the true beauty in life, examination, and suffering. That is what it means for me to be a teacher.

My mother has played a pivotal role in my life, from teaching me love for stories and others, to love for myself. I recount an expierence from 2022. At this point in my life, I was early in highschool and considered myself an existential nihilist. What that meant to me was: because we are so tiny, in the grand scheme of things, nothing matters. This was an illness I possessed for many months. There were many reasons I no longer consider myself an existential nihilist, but none more important than one summer afternoon with my mother. Me and her got into her car to go to the store, we were most likely going to buy groceries. I remember, I made a comment early on in our drive detailing my idea that nothing is objective. I remember actual fear in her at this comment. She expressed to me the false nature of my feelings on the matter. She expressed her contentment at the fact this was a guiding sentiment for me. The car ride was brutal on my part. I kept trying to defend my sentiment with no basis, no contentions, and most importantly, no reason. She did not want to talk about it. She told me how she has seen people in her life be driven crazy at similar ideas. We got to the grocery store and she parked. She told me harshly and kindly that indeed, there are objective forces in life. There is truth. I did not talk during her speech, because her truthful tone prevented me. She used examples such as math, objects, herself, all as proof of objective truth in the world. I thought nothing of this experience at the time. Suddenly, after this moment, I saw the world differently, slightly at first, but greater and greater as the months went by. I now consider myself an existentialist, which means I believe there to be meaning in nearly everything. I believe in objective truth, and I've grown immensely for it. My mom is thankfully responsible for me going down this path. She tought me meaning in this moment, with truth, empathy, and love. I will commit to teaching for my life. If I don't teach, if I don't provide a rolemodel for others, in at least some minute way, I'll die. There is nothing else I could possibly use from the funds of this scholarship than secure a future where I can teach as effectively as possible.

My expierences as a person of queer realization have affected nearly every aspect of my world view. When I was younger, I mirrored my father, who tended to be transphobic. I made my way through life, out of Covid, into my softmore year at highschool where I first met a trans person. This individual was a seductive, and dangerous part of my life for months. She was seductive because her act of being there had me questioning my gender role in society; which was an exciting thing to think about as gender is supposedly imbeded in us. I mirrored what had seducted me with her and chose to begin dressing in a "feminine" way. She was dangerous as we 'designed' a suicide pact, which deemed unsuccesful (thank god). Several months after my relationship with Ash had concluded, I met, dated, and lost my virginity to Max, who was a trans man. Soon after we met, I came out as a trans woman. Little did I know at the time, I hadn't an ounce of what it truly meant to be queer. My relationship with Max was rocky for the entire two years it was active. We frequently stopped talking, and then would start talking again typically out of strictly pathos based arguments and sentiments. He was a romantic at heart the entire time I knew him. So much so in fact that Max decided to date someone several years older than him. This individual commited suicide several months after they started dating. Once this occured, I was distraught. 'My best friends girlfriend is dead, and now I don't know what to do with myself, he's gone, both physically and mentally.' was the sentiment raging through my head the entire month of May 2023. This death affected me greatly, even though I barely knew her. I could not talk to Max that first week, he was hospitalized. We began talking soon after. Our relationship grew and grew until it stopped. Max began resenting me. He hated me. Small wonder as to why. Rebecca had died, and while it was my place to grieve, it was not my place to grieve for Max, which is exactly what I did. I mirrored Max in my expectation of his grief. I recount this part of my expierence as it serves essential in my queer realization. Rebeccas beanie, which I saw her wearing every time I saw her, sits in my desk, directly under where I write this. It's a transgender flag beanie. My grief for Rebecca was legitiment. It still is. Grief does not leave. In order to grieve nearly two years after a suicide, I must adapt. I have learned grief, and continue to learn grief. I grieve heavily for the queer community all across the globe in the present day. How could one not? Rebecca taught me, and continues to teach me who I am: A person who strives to be free of labels, as labels are a disguise for artificial suffering. Rebecca suffered because her place in the world was considered wrong. I suffer because I see how destructive seeking a place in the world can be, instead of seeking oneself. Over 3 years ago, I started questioning my identity, and my place in the world. Where I'm at now, I am genderless. I am three things in fact: I am queer. I am a lover. And I am a poet. There has never been an easier question in the history of questions than: What are my career goals and aspirations? I do not want to educate, I am destined to.