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Analysing My Fatigue: The Need for a Positive Dream

Updated: Feb 16

A war zone picture.

2023 Note: Remember, even I, may be wrong. I never claimed omniscience. After realizing I was practicing sexual transmutation for the sake of Philosocom, I officially renounce my claims as asexual.


Part I: Origins

Chronic fatigue has revealed the deeper emptiness of extended solitude to me. I thought my life and future would be different, so I was fine with solitude before and even praised it.

Now, in order to achieve my goals, I must be more social. I must communicate with others, even strangers, so I can get what I want in a life that is compromised by this unidentified illness. Allow me to further explain the situation in the form of this article. This one is crucial for you to better understand why I despise irrelevancy, idleness, and nihilism.

I was a philosophy undergraduate at a university during high school, trying to get my first degree while excelling in my graduation exams. In fact, if I hadn't been recommended by the headmistress at the time, I wouldn't have gotten the privilege of being in the academy.

As a result, I had a good reason to be an obedient student at my school. It might have made me depressed to be one, but at least it got me into the academic world, even for a few years and no more.

The one I view as my "nemesis" was a student there as well. It was there when I met her, and there is where she used to pretend that I did not exist, just so I could move on from her. A mistake, to be sure, but she at least gave me her reasoning. More on her reluctant reason for being a feature later.

It was during National Service, that the first signs of my cursed fatigue began. It was a steady and easy job at a hospital archive, and yet it was hellish for me. My mind was in great emptiness, having to mostly fold files in a mechanical way for 6 hours each day.

Some of you can imagine this job because you might have had it yourself. But for me, it was hell on earth. There was little to occupy oneself with, and my mind went "insane" per se, not clinically insane, so do not worry.

The utter lack of desire to continue made me more and more exhausted. I tried fighting it, but it was an unsuccessful mistake, as I couldn't finish my service. Even though I volunteered for my country, it is probably my greatest regret.

How come? Maybe I would not have been fatigued in a chronic way if it hadn't been for it. Of course, I can't tell for certain. I might have had it anyway. But since I have no other event to blame, I blame National Service for ruining my future and myself, above all, for resisting the temptation to leave.

I wasn't kept there, and it isn't something compulsory, like serving in Israel's military forces. As a result, I am unable to sue the institution where I worked because they are not liable for the work I did for them.

It's... It's my fault. I try to take it easy, but it might be the truth. I prefer recognizing, than risking delusion.

Eventually, I met her again. The cursed nemesis. Too autistic for my own good, I told her that I loved her, even though I wasn't romantically interested. Too ignorant for her own good, she couldn't make the connection that love is also friendly and not just romantic, and she told me she has a boyfriend.

She could've stopped there. Nope. deemed me unworthy of her time, all because of an emotion that wasn't even romantic. Also, I am asexual.


Part II: Philosophizing

Now, I want you to imagine how it feels to be deemed unimportant when you have a medical condition that took away your original future. Degrees, academic prestige, the titles of "Doctor" and "Professor," even the ability to read books. You see, her comments gained extra weight because I know I can succumb to the fatigue.

I don't have to maintain this site; I don't have to talk with anyone. And yet I choose to, because I don't want to give in to uselessness. And who is necessarily irrelevant? Of course, the useless.

So, without the academic world's presence, I must gain world relevance otherwise. I eventually deduced that I could only do so by being far more social and by being a public figure (one whose work and life are public).

I originally hated being social. I viewed it as unnecessary for one's survival. I philosophized that one could just come to work, return home, and so on until retirement. I thought I didn't have to have friends, followers, readers, and so on. The reason for this is the academy; after all, much renown can pass through there, right? Not only renown but mental stimulation, too.

So, when that is no longer an option, and when your former love deems you a worthless human being,... then you might feel obliged to rebuild and reorganize. I must do so, because otherwise, I will succumb to despair and to nihilism, the rejection of all worth in existence.

I used to be a nihilist, but after realizing that I am essentially my own worst enemy, a person susceptible to being defeated by fatigue... Nihilism is a luxury I can't allow any longer, not when her words haunt my mind, pretending to be the truth.

Maybe, if I wasn't fatigued, I would just let her words pass me by. But what interest do I have in seeing myself as a useless, fatigued man who is only alive thanks to family and disability money?

No. In order to survive, I must prove her wrong. I must not let that happen. Even if I will be far, far less exhausted, I can't give in to the same existential void that haunted my mind during National Service.

Even though my financial future is secure, life feels like an endless struggle for survival. My mother even bought our housing units today, so I don't even have to pay rent. And yet, the urge for survival remains.

What if she's right? The nemesis. I must not give in to bias completely if I want to be a good philosopher.

I must not be a full hermit, even if it is nicer and calmer. What is the point of existing if I allow myself to sink and drown in fatigue, which might be incurable?

I do not know if it is and given that it has been escalating ever since National Service, I must either defeat this monstrosity or resist it for the rest of my life. Resisting her, means resisting it.


Part III: Epilogue

As one of you has wisely advised, I must have greater hope for positivity. After all, this fatigue DOES have a chance of being cured. It is this year that I will see whether or not that assessment is indeed true.

The thought of finally putting this fatigue to eternal rest brings such vengeful joy to my heart.

To my fatigue: You might remember yesterday's message: My depressing, tyrannical, regime... Whose temptation is despair, presage... A need, for a positive, dream... Yes, your diagnosis may be life-changing, which means that my mindset should be too. My vision is clear and wide-ranging... It will seek, to eradicate, you.

So prepare, for the coup, of your tyranny,

Prepare, to become mere history.

Persistent writing,

Tenacity spanning,

Years of endurance,

Is simply why I could be


Ever moving,



To rid,

Of the illness,

That you are!

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Tomasio A. Rubinshtein, Philosocom's Founder & Writer

I am a philosopher from Israel, author of several books in 2 languages, and Quora's Top Writer of the year 2018. I'm also a semi-hermit who has decided to dedicate his life to writing and sharing my articles across the globe. Several podcasts on me, as well as a radio interview, have been made since my career as a writer. More information about me can be found here.

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