I do have Eurekha moment. But it happened suddenly.

I am like everyone else thinking atleast few out of 6 billions human may be telling the truth or they may be knowing something we do not know.

It hit me suddenly one day that as a humans we can't know the truth because we are limited by words and language.

We can only rotate the definitions and meaning in those words. We relabel things to make it look new. We recyle.

We always wants to feel new and feel we are growing but infact we recycle same crap for past 2000 years.

There is a reason philosphy of 2000 year old still sound good now because things has not changed that much in human evolution.

The eurekha momenet is humans can not know the truth. He can only end up in a belief even if he meditate for 10000000 years. Why?

Because at the end you will going to die , when you run out of energy , you will try to form a belief to in order to save your life. Life comes first , truth comes second.

Truth without life is useless. So basically humans create a lie around himself such a way that he will stop seeking truth because it is endless path.

Philosophy is actually for fools who likes to live in the past.

I don't know how everyone else did this, but in the course of what you might call my 'philosophical development' there was a definite division between the period of doubt and negation, during which I broke down what Descartes would call my customs, and the period of assent and creation, which I'm still in now I suppose. I remember it very vividly when I crossed that threshold, if you all want to huddle around the fire for a moment and here a little tale.

It was on St. John in the Carribean, my first time there-have been back many times since-riding with my friend on a public taxi at night back from the main town. I say 'on' because they are open air and drive fast as hell on the left side of the road so that leaves swing in and people occasionally fall out. Anyhow, we're both pretty drunk and I'm talking to M when I realize he's asleep on the bench, so I look over to the side at the jungle coming past me. It's a long ride, so I'm doing this for a while, and I start thinking about something from school-the book All the King's Men, about Huey Long (chicken in every pot fella)-when a phrase hits me from that book: The Great Truth. As you might recall, the one character drives out to California and is laying on hot sheets, thinking about his problems bakc home, unable to sleep, when he's struck by what he calls The Great Truth; at the time I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, still don't actually. But, the phrase struck me as exceedingly meaningful just then. I was still staring off the side of the taxi pondering this, kind of repeating it to myself in my head, when I suddenly realized that everything was relative, everything was 'as it should be', because there was nothing but life, and that-the meaning of life is to live. When we arrived, I stayed up all night, got smashed drunk and went swimming and that last sentence has been my motto ever since.

Anyone else have a Eureka kind of moment?

I don't know how everyone else did this, but in the course of what you might call my 'philosophical development' there was a definite division between the period of doubt and negation, during which I broke down what Descartes would call my customs, and the period of assent and creation, which I'm still in now I suppose. I remember it very vividly when I crossed that threshold, if you all want to huddle around the fire for a moment and here a little tale.

It was on St. John in the Carribean, my first time there-have been back many times since-riding with my friend on a public taxi at night back from the main town. I say 'on' because they are open air and drive fast as hell on the left side of the road so that leaves swing in and people occasionally fall out. Anyhow, we're both pretty drunk and I'm talking to M when I realize he's asleep on the bench, so I look over to the side at the jungle coming past me. It's a long ride, so I'm doing this for a while, and I start thinking about something from school-the book All the King's Men, about Huey Long (chicken in every pot fella)-when a phrase hits me from that book: The Great Truth. As you might recall, the one character drives out to California and is laying on hot sheets, thinking about his problems bakc home, unable to sleep, when he's struck by what he calls The Great Truth; at the time I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, still don't actually. But, the phrase struck me as exceedingly meaningful just then. I was still staring off the side of the taxi pondering this, kind of repeating it to myself in my head, when I suddenly realized that everything was relative, everything was 'as it should be', because there was nothing but life, and that-the meaning of life is to live. When we arrived, I stayed up all night, got smashed drunk and went swimming and that last sentence has been my motto ever since.

Anyone else have a Eureka kind of moment?

There is no truth. Truth is so simple it does not exist!.

Truth is a truth except the truth.

Word is a lie. Limitation of language.

Anyone else have a Eureka kind of moment?

Oh yes, and it's a great feeling. I would say that it is a seeing of order, justice, harmony, beauty, etc. A feeling that all suffering was justified, and that this suffering was the necessary dissonance in a grand symphony much bigger than me.

I can already imagine it, though I will not read it. "Happiness is baaaaaaaaaad"!

I don't know how everyone else did this, but in the course of what you might call my 'philosophical development' there was a definite division between the period of doubt and negation, during which I broke down what Descartes would call my customs, and the period of assent and creation, which I'm still in now I suppose. I remember it very vividly when I crossed that threshold, if you all want to huddle around the fire for a moment and here a little tale.

It was on St. John in the Carribean, my first time there-have been back many times since-riding with my friend on a public taxi at night back from the main town. I say 'on' because they are open air and drive fast as hell on the left side of the road so that leaves swing in and people occasionally fall out. Anyhow, we're both pretty drunk and I'm talking to M when I realize he's asleep on the bench, so I look over to the side at the jungle coming past me. It's a long ride, so I'm doing this for a while, and I start thinking about something from school-the book All the King's Men, about Huey Long (chicken in every pot fella)-when a phrase hits me from that book: The Great Truth. As you might recall, the one character drives out to California and is laying on hot sheets, thinking about his problems bakc home, unable to sleep, when he's struck by what he calls The Great Truth; at the time I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, still don't actually. But, the phrase struck me as exceedingly meaningful just then. I was still staring off the side of the taxi pondering this, kind of repeating it to myself in my head, when I suddenly realized that everything was relative, everything was 'as it should be', because there was nothing but life, and that-the meaning of life is to live. When we arrived, I stayed up all night, got smashed drunk and went swimming and that last sentence has been my motto ever since.

Anyone else have a Eureka kind of moment?

There is no truth. Truth is so simple it does not exist!.