Do you assume philosophy is what professional ‘philosophers’ say it is?
These so called ‘philosophers’ invariably hold teaching jobs.
They usually talk and write about philosophical texts.
They project their interpretations from an established platform.
A respectable, squeaky-clean platform.
A logically extended platform.
Yet these logical extensions actually support bands of severely unbalanced people. People whose body/heart/minds are completely out of sync. Blatantly unbalanced…yet these well-paid ‘philosophers’ ignore their psychological condition on the basis that it is irrelevant to ‘their work’. So they avoid delving into the essence of their own existence. Yet in spite of this amazing ignorance, any one of them is quite capable of teaching the roots of existentialism.

Is philosophy nothing more than a form of talking or writing?

Is there a spirit of philosophy which exists prior to any linguistic expression?

I say the love of living Truth is the essence of real philosophy. And perhaps real Art is the love of beauty—or the expression of the love of beauty. And could it be that ecstatic poetry is the courting of beauty by the love of Truth?

It seems that those who make a living out of ‘being philosophers’ are willing slaves of their own mental constructions. Who never jump off their professional platforms. Who never jump out of their skin. Out of ‘their minds’. Who never take any actual existential risk. Who are never more than window dressers. And what do they dress up?

The corpse of life. Life denied and deadened by fear. The fear of being real.

And how is this corpse attired? 

With the sterilizing voice of repressed PAIN ! Controlled, denied pain. Suppressed pain fuelling safe respectability.

I didn’t start off by loving Truth. I started off by hating falsity. Hating the falsity which had been stuffed down my throat. I started off hating the robot I’d become. A robot fuelled by fear. A fear of Being. A fear of being real. A fear of death. A fear of feeling.  A fear of feeling the HURT I was taught to avoid feeling. 

Eventually I discovered that it was this unhealed, hurt child within, who was envious of others enjoying life. If, as John Lennon sang, ‘you feel crippled inside’, you can neither enjoy life nor honestly enjoy seeing others enjoying life. Living honestly, aware of the hurt child’s strategies—moment by moment—brought about a profound change in my existence. I no longer unconsciously adopted, or fed the hurt child’s paranoid projections. I began to feel free of inner turmoil. Disenburdened. 

Most people are escaping from their own unfelt inner pain. Our whole society is an expression of this falsity. And professional ‘philosophers’ are the well fed priests of this vast, sick, self-hypnotising, time-wasting outfit.

The whole global society is playing the game of ring-a-ring-a roses.

To become a real alive philosopher, you have to leave the game. Leave the game alone. Yes, alone! That deadening game can not  be transformed. By leaving it alone you’ll find out what aloneness means.

And be warned! You will not be loved by those still playing the game.

I write to encourage my readers to leave that deadening game--for ever.

What is important is the feeling/understanding of being alive. And when life is energising your body, soul and mind—instead of fear—you will be able to THINK with feeling. Be able to philosophise.


By neil oram




© neil oram 2007