We need to keep drinking. Keep the faith. That’s how we awaken it: our philosophical eros. Our untrammelled desire. Our bursting of the horizons.
The desire for philosophy that is philosophy. The love of philosophy: nothing other than philosophy. Philosophy itself is love – of wisdom. We only love love and loving.
A drunken quest. To open the horizon before us again. To see into the future. To lay claim to the future: our future.
When we won’t become what they want of us. When we won’t be actualised as they demand. When we hold onto something, keep it. What? Ourselves?
The fact that we’re not even philosophers. The fact … that we pause before philosophy. That we remain with potentiality – the potentiality to think.
Which is what allows the not-even-philosopher to contemplate philosophy. Before beginning to think. Before setting forth on any actual path. Before betraying philosophy, because if we began, we would surely betray philosophy …
Staying with our … potentiality. Staying with what cannot possibly be used. For any cause! Good or evil! Just or unjust!
Poised on the brink of … everything. On the threshold, forever. Suspending the forward march. Hovering in … whatever it is.
Only the not-even philosopher understands this. Only the on the edge of philosophy. Only the on-the-threshold philosopher.
Work in Progress 