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This ESEM is forcing me to analyze the ways in which I think. Through my essays, forum postings, and conversations in class, I've recognized my hatred for uncertainty. I am not always a rational thinker. I frequently ramble and question what I know. And, oddly enough, I hate the fact that I ask so many questions. I hate that questions exist in the first place. Questions are signs that we don't have all the answers I seek. I want to know who I am, why I'm here, where we came from, and where we're going. I crave transparency and openness; I want these answers to be accessible, available, apparent. Sadly, they're incredibly opaque.

Does God exist?

Do humans - or any other creatures - have souls?

What was the true course of human evolution?

How will humanity end? How will I end?

And the list goes on...

Perhaps I shouldn't hate uncertainty. Plenty of people use uncertainty as an outlet for creativity and exploration. That's why we have science and math - to empirically understand our reality. That's also why we have literature and the arts - to intuitively express our reality.

But neither empiricism nor intuition is enough for me. I want concrete answers. It's a psychological flaw - an anxiety of sorts. I guess I'm horribly phobic of the unknown. 

This brings us to the concept of betrayal. What did I mean when I said that I felt betrayed by my brain? Well, I think it's unsettling to have an unconscious mind. It hides thoughts from me. It hides from me, yet it is a part of me. So, I don't even have the transparency to know myself. I can't trust myself, since I don't really know who and what I am nor what I'm thinking. If I believe, even for a second, that I'm in full control of my thoughts, then I'm lying to myself. Stupid, deceitful, lying brain.

Frankly, I'm beginning to doubt that I'm an "I" or a "me." I am a bunch of neurons; I am 50 trillion cells arranged in some semblance of order. But am I even truly ordered? For all I know, I could be growing a tumor, and that tumor might kill me. My heart, an organ that my brain unconsciously controls, might suddenly cease to beat. So, my body can betray me, too.

I really, really hate uncertainty. I think that's why I utilize intense vocabulary and extreme viewpoints. I know the world exists in shades of gray, but gray is uncertain. Why not see the world in black and white, where reality and clarity go hand-in-hand?

"Betrayal" is a strong word - a black and white word. But it is visceral, poignant, and the best reflection of how I feel. I am deeply conflicted. Shouldn't I feel thankful that my kidneys aren't reporting back to me on the state of their urinary output? Shouldn't I be grateful that my blood pressure remains stable on its own? Why aren't I? Why am I so freakin' looney tunes?