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Why I'm a Hermit (Poem)

Updated: Feb 25

A man under medical treatment

(For an article that expands on the hermit subject, click here)

Before attaining philosopher-hood,

I have sympathized with the antagonists of fiction,

Those who had the ability to alter the course of the world,

And thus were a force to be reckoned with,

And beat them, due to cliché.

One day I came to my former master

And told him of my desire to change the world,

As it is too wrong, too dysfunctional,

Too disgusting.

In response I was given the thesis of Epictetus:

That there are things within our control -- and beyond,

And thus -- the latter are not of our concern.

In short, reality has taught me that I cannot change the world,

For its force far exceeds mine,

Or disappear, completely or strongly.

I cannot change the world,

Whom once I knew,

So what is the point, then, in fighting

A battle where the odds are against you?

In reality, there are no minions, no superpowers,

Rarely any ultra-rich with private armies,

Nor doomsday devices,

At the disposal of the realistic antagonist,

All you have is some money, a computer

And maybe an apartment to live and sleep in.

Only rarely,

You get a powerbase,

Beyond the basically.

As the conqueror inside me is disappointed,

When facing the burden of reality,

Philosocom will be my base of operations,

My "evil lair",

Where all I can do,

Is to provide my thoughts,

Those who are influenced are them,

Are beyond my control as well.

This is maturity.

And as long as I don't have an army of minions and maybe a nuclear device,

(So-to-speak, metaphorically of course)

I want to remain in hermitage,

For the mature one does not fight a war

He/she is surely to lose in.

I had a fleet of airships once,

Hundreds by the number,

But they were all be put out of commission,

I had enough of being hurt

Even simply, for expressing,

The fact that I exist,

So I become a hermit,

And thus in that way I might consist.

Maybe, just maybe,

If I had more control,

Over myself, over the received influence from others,

Over the alternation of communication with others,

I wouldn't be such a hermit,

Who is just waiting for his elder years to come,

And perhaps write a few philosophical articles,

Throughout the silent, desolate way.

Thus, if you want to avoid hermit-dom,

Seize control,

By social skills, by attraction, connections, and by luxury,

All of which I might not have,

And (might as well) never will,

For all I want now, if not permanently,

Those who have the formers,

Should welcome the burden of

Stress, worry and anxiety,

Just to sense a bit of power,

That is beyond their own property.

(2023 Added Verses):

But now I realized,

That a hermit's worth is compromised,

Because as long as he will be deemed unimportant,

His legacy to humanity can be undermined as well.

So, in order to avoid that biased fate,

I have no choice but to bury my hermit-dom with hate.

Being irrelevant, is a thought I carried with much distaste.

With my increasing fame,

My former love have faced the truth.

For saying that "I'm just too irrelevant",

Apathetically, she declared.

No empathy, no remorse,

Now, I just have,

To suffer life and work,

Suffer, and stay on course.

Now I am asthmatic,

It is far from fantastic.

To my craft, I am a fanatic,

All I am left is to build an empire,

And grow it bigger.

For taking away my future,

My happiness, so I could survive,

Those who appointed themselves my repressors,

Will pay,

By my ability, to thrive.

By my success they will be left,

With their past locked away,

And in vengeance,


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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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