Show HN: A philosopher's quandry

You're standing on the edge of a cliff, scared and shivering. The thought of looking into the abyss is terrifying, you feel you would rather court death. Your only refuge, behind you, are the things you engage yourself in which seem to turn to ashes in your mouth no sooner you touch them to your lips. At least you can smile while you engage yourself -- everyone else looks like they're having fun, right? You will keep going back because in that world, you reign supreme. In the lands of the blind, the one-eyed is king -- even if they're all steeped in darkness. Nobody knows you're a fake except you, yourself, and then, only in moments of deep and pensive introspection, which are fewer and farther apart as the noise from outside becomes louder and louder, drowning out any hope of useful insight. Sometimes you wake up after living for weeks and weeks in a pattern -- realise it, and, finding no way out, just go back to doing it again. What you fail to realise is that this angst, this feeling of non-fulfilment MUST be addressed. To suppress it is to court insanity, death even. You are a philosopher and now you must seek to actualise that as a way of life, rather than the petty intellectual game you have treated it as all along. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? The questions, asked, evaporate into their own unanswered silence. This is where I have been, this is where I am...sometimes. If you can relate... Be prepared to call your own bluff.