crossorigin="anonymous">
top of page

The 7th of December Wish

Updated: Apr 23


On the 7th of December, one of the few days left for the next year, I'll finally be 24. The individual number itself means little to me, but as the number of years progresses, I just wish it would reach its optimal reach, if you know what I mean. I'm not suicidal or anything, but I just want my life to be complete, because it will mean, I'll finally get to experience the possibility of eternal rest.

Is there a feeling for each phase of aging? For me, I feel as if I'm still 18, the age at which I published my first book. I remember that year with slight detestation. I was still innocent regarding the world of philosophy.

The school told me many great things about my future as a philosopher, and even the manager herself came to me and said, in front of my parents, that I would be the "greatest philosopher of this century". I have no idea if she was aware of my "competitors", people who are some less known, and others, far more recognized.

The period between 18 and 24 was quite a scarring one, and no one told me anything about it, even though that is the overall purpose of school, isn't it? To prepare the student for the "real world"? Oh, the hate I received, simply because I had things to say.


School didn't warn me that people would "eat me alive" due to their disagreement with me, or due to the bad impression they'd received from reading my content.

I was "promised", for lack of a better term, a glorious reality as an adult. That people will read my books and that I will be very well known. For those unaware, I've written seven books, but no one seems to care. I guess that's what I get for being too much of an "anti-social" loner.

And here I am, as if I am still a kid on vacation, being entertained and writing, and not furthermore. Little reception from the world, little awareness of my existence, not necessarily by my own, constant readers, whom I'm grateful for, but from the world at large. Even my mom, who lives near me, ignores me whenever I come to visit, in favor of her smartphone.

I am well-accustomed to being a loner, but nobody has ever told me how lonely being a philosopher can be, especially in this era of general short-attention spans. Writing into the void, sharing into the void, and most "horrific" of all, thinking in the void.

Each day is a fight to get recognized, to be heard over the temptation of casino-like mazes of social media applications. Trying to get oneself noticed enough. Trying to get people to actually come and stay and read your stuff, even though they can, at any time, stop and do things much more gratifying, such as any addiction available online.

Getting people to read your stuff isn't easy, not only because there are a lot of other writers, but also because the sheer number of distractions is just too high. These apps and their notifications, make it easy to sway the attention of the reader from your text, as reading is a cognitive activity that, for some (even for me), requires a significant amount of mental power, especially when it comes to philosophy.

I don't think, however, that this is the end of reading. The fact that you, for example, are still reading it, means that there is still interest in blogs and books alike. This hope might decrease with time, but it is unclear whether or not this hope will ultimately be destroyed by the many tempting stimulations that surround us.

I will be only 24 years old, and if the universe is deterministic in nature, then it appears that it isn't yet my time to go. I've written so much, and over time I got more and more exhausted, but the fact that I'm still young, could indicate that I still have much more time to write, to produce, and to contribute. I just want to rest, but the time for that is still far away.

I want my life to be an achievement, and that's why I want to already reach old age, not because I want my life to end. It is a presentation of completion, not a desire to end one's existence. It's like when a worker wants their shift to be over; it doesn't mean that they'll kill themselves when the shift is over (if that makes sense to you).

I may have worked officially only for a short time in my life, but my whole life feels like one long job. The work to bring my voice to the world, and show those who may disagree, that I am, and my philosophy, are indeed relevant, All this writing... and not just the writing -- all the things I do in life tire me down, and to be honest, I am awaiting the eternal rest to come and tell me, "You have done all you could in this world to achieve your goals and to contribute to them." Now is the time to rest for all of eternity".

I'm not sad, angry, or suicidal. I seek not only to write the legacy, but also to finish it. What will be its ultimate completion, you might ask? It is my death, of course. My desire to finally reach old age, is just as strong as my desire to do all I can in this world, so I will finally have the legitimacy, in my own eyes, to cease. I can cease at any time I want, but that would mean that I'd be wasting my future's time.

That's my ambition for the 7th of December -- to finally get work done in the most useful way I can, until I finally cease to exist. It will only be then, that I'll have the justification, to stop writing and distributing it to the world.

16 views0 comments

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.

צילום מסך 2023-10-01 042234.png
bottom of page