We wish to be real. We wish to exist as something ontologically inscribed into the world. As a solid point of epistemic departure, as a consolidated disposition that establishes meaning within the dispersion of the world. Yet with every attempt at self-definition, we discover that we are not those who are, but those who have created themselves through what they attempted to do.

In our identity, we define ourselves retroactively: not from essence, but from consequence. Not from the self, but from the echo our thought leaves in the world. Identity is not a hollowed-out essence, but a sediment of cognitive effort—its returning effect.

Thus emerges a paradox: we wish to be real, yet we are merely reified. What was once cognition now exists as structure, determining us a priori and a posteriori. In this point, forward and backward coincide. What we have shaped in thought through the transcendental conditions of possibility has settled into the world as an ontological surrogate—as institution, as law, as form—which now determines us in return. The world we once uttered now utters us.

Here lies the mute suffering of consciousness: we can no longer detach ourselves from the structures we once established as instruments. They have become the frameworks of our being. Legal, political, ontological, even romantic: all are merely fictions we created to explain the world, yet now the world measures us by them.

The bitterness of reality lies in the fact that every attempt to speak of it inevitably distorts it, “freezes” it into a form that then confines us—up to the point of suffocation.

Thus the one who truly thinks falls silent. Not as a defeated one, but as one who knows that the only true speakability lies in knowing the limit of speech. In perceiving that limit, we transcend the logical constraint of the treatise which asserts that the limits of language are also the limits of the world.

And so, in the awareness of this reversal, we kneel. Not before the world, but before the emptiness that remains once all fictions dissolve. There, a new thought is born. Not the one that asserts, but the one that surrenders to the horizon.

Gasshō.

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Metaontološka meditacija: O fikciji istovetnosti

Radi bi bili stvarni. Radi bi obstajali kot nekaj, kar je ontološko vpisano v svet. Kot trdna točka spoznavnega izhodišča, kot konsolidirana dispozicija, ki v razpršenosti sveta vzpostavlja smisel. Toda ob vsakem poskusu samoopredelitve ugotovimo, da nismo tisti, ki “so”, temveč tisti, ki “so se ustvarili” skozi to, kar so poskušali storiti.

V svoji istovetnosti se določamo vzvratno: ne iz bistva, temveč iz posledic. Ne iz jaza, temveč iz odmeva, ki ga pusti naša misel v svetu. Identiteta ni izvotljeno bistvo, temveč usedlina spoznavnega napora, njegov povratni učinek.

Tako se vzpostavi paradoks: želimo biti stvarni, a smo le postvarjeni. Kar je bilo nekoč spoznanje, zdaj obstaja kot struktura, ki nas apriorno-aposteriorno določa. V tej točki sovpadeta vnaprej in vznazaj. Kar smo mišljevno oblikovali skozi transcendentalne pogoje možnosti, se je usedlo v svet kot ontološki surogat, kot institucija, kot zakon, kot obrazec, ki nas zdaj vzratno določa. Svet, ki smo ga izrekli, nas zdaj izreka.
V tem tiči nemo trpljenje zavesti: ne moremo se več ločiti od struktur, ki smo jih nekoč vzpostavili kot sredstva. Postale so okvirji naše biti. Pravno, politično, ontološko, celo ljubezensko: vse so le fikcije, ki smo jih ustvarili, da bi si razložili svet, zdaj pa po njih meri svet nas.

Trpkost resničnosti tiči v tem, da vsak poskus, da bi govorili o njej, nujno pomeni, da jo izkrivimo, da jo “zamrznemo” v obliki, ki nas potem omeji, do utesnjujoče mere.
Zato tisti, ki zares misli, obmolkne. Ne kot poraženec, temveč kot tisti, ki ve, da je edina resnična izrekljivost tista, ki pozna mejo izrekanja. V zaznavanju te meje presežemo logično omejitev traktata, ki izreka, da so meje jezika tudi meje sveta.

In zato, v zavedanju tega obrata pokleknemo. Ne pred svetom, ampak pred praznino, ki ostane, ko se vse fikcije razblinijo. Tam se rojeva nova misel. Ne tista, ki zatrjuje, ampak tista, ki se predaja obzorju.

Gasshō.