More often than not, thinkers, scholars and philosophers have been misunderstood. In essence, as Ralph Waldo-Emerson said it eloquently,
“great men are misunderstood.”
In essence, on a purely human level, people may love or hate me or may accept or reject a certain part of my personality but this is all what it entails coming to terms to declare my philosophy. However, I question myself…. How do I know that I know what I know? Are they rival sets of facts or just my unredeemed illusions in life? Or what I know is something else entirely?
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