Give me that Philosophy

Feeling much better today. Started the day by lying in bed listening to Franz List. One of my favourite Classical composers. I don't only like classical by the way - I also like rock, trance, acid jazz, jazz, house, 80s etc. etc. But this morning it was classical and it uplifted my mood. Franz List was the genius of paino and his tonal variety is positively violent, from the lowest of the low notes, to the highest of the high 9and everything in between). Music made for BiPolars!

Music is one of the few things I can tolerate when I'm down. And if you get the right music at the right time it can even help lift you somedays. I mean what is music more about than emotions?

After the music therapy I made some coffee. Real coffee. Fresh Moca Java coffee beans from the specialist coffee retailer at the mall. Ground them into just the right granular texture. Poured the ground coffee into a pre-heated plunger. Let it brew for 5 full minutes. Mix with heated milk. Ah...bliss (even without a cigarette!)

After the coffee I dug out some old philosophy essays of mine from univesity 2 years ago. I'm involved in an extremely exciting thread at The Icarus Project, one about mania, spiritual experiences, dualism, perception, and a host of other correlating topics. And I saw so many links in this thread to my own reading and experiences. It led to me dusting off the old philosophy files and diving into the shit again.

I used to love philosophy. In 2003 I ate it, slept it, screwed it and breathed it. I had somehow managed to get into a 2 year Master's Program at the University of Stellenbosch. I say "somehow" because my Bachelor's degree was in Economics and Accounting, very, very UNphilosophical stuff. So when I told the professor I wished to do an M in philosophy, he requested that I produce a paper of acceptable level to an academic peer-reviewed journal.Don't ask me how - but BiPolar Guy pulled it off - the paper: "Deconstructing Deconstruction".

So one month later there was BP Guy, sitting at these forums amongst the cream of previous year's Honours Class students, expounding about Derrida, Heidegger and Foucault. The best part: BiPolar Guy ended the year top of class. (I say this not to blow my own trumpet, but to try explain why it was such an uplifting experience to reconnect with philosophy again this morning. Oh, all right... and a little trumpet-blowing)

I never finished the second year. In fact, I never even started the second year. A huge depression interevened and threw me on another course. But that story'll have to wait for another day...