How I Got Lost Between Descartes and Demon Slayer

The Pointless struggle! There are days when life just gets denser and denser—like an endless philosophical soup—and I don’t know what I’m doing. Totally aimless, totally meaningless. Modern philosophy keeps circling around the same question: what is the point of being human? Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz—all of them trying their best to turn God into something finite and infinite at the same time, handing out attributes to nature like confetti at a wedding. And here I am today: empty, non-existent, trying to find purpose in this philosophical circus. Every day, we all try to survive, to give meaning to our existence, to choose between good and evil like contestants on a cosmic reality show. We have the freedom to choose, but then we also question the freedom of God. In this quest for philosophy, I often feel trapped and caged, asking myself: Was I meant for this? What is my purpose? The more I wrestle with philosophers about existence, essence, modes of thought, and the extension ...