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“What is your aim in philosophy?
To show the fly the way out of the fly-bottle.”
film clip: bottle rocket by wes anderson
I finished college in the middle of the winter because I had messed around too much to graduate on time the previous May with the rest of my class.
Another student had rented my room, but my housemates let me sleep in the living room for half-price, except it was not heated, and we were in the northeast and it was January.
I had a job at a coffee shop near campus.
One night there was a huge fire in a factory near the river. The owner of the pizza place next to the coffee shop, actually he owned them both, drove me and some other employees over to watch the factory burn.
He had a little girl; she was around four years old. One day I told her that ghosts were real. I didn’t say it to be mean, I was just dumb and self-centered; I didn’t know anything about little kids then. And I believed that ghosts were real, probably. Definitely.
I don’t think like that anymore.
But I scared the little girl; she told her mom what I said. That ghosts were real. I lost the job. It was one of many jobs that went away for vague and yet definite reasons.