When I see people and measure how they are, then I try to make some thoughts on how they are.

It's very tempting to make these thoughts into an inner mental state, where I go around and think it's knowledge. I try to think that I can't ever know. I try, instead, to think about knowledge about the world, that I really get an image, a model, about how the world is put together. Exactly this, is really, ultra, mega, super duper, tempting for me to do when I “read” the emotions of people; when I do read these emotions, then I make an image on how they really feel. But, through knowledge, how can I know what is going on inside someone elses head? Do I think their thoughts? Do I? Don't I? There are only my own thoughts, ain't it so?

I walk around and think for myself that all of you think that you know all too well my thoughts, even thought it might appear that you get to know my inner thoughts about what happens inside my head from this almost uncensored text. What's really happening right now, you have to know, is that you are sitting (standing?) right now and are reading a text from a webpage (or whatever format this text is currently in) that's called http://geocities.com/smileysal1981/blog/blog.html.

I think that you should try and think for a moment, self-analyze what it is you're doing right now, not with your emotions, with your reason. Then I think you'll get a much better perspective, better model, on what you're doing, right now.

I call this for “presupposition”, that I somehow falsely remake presuppositions about what I think is, into knowledge. I do it automatically, unconsciously, and I'm trying right now to make myself aware, that I don't have any knowledge. I don't have any knowledge. I have presuppositions about how the world is put together, I think that's how I feel that I think I am. Just out from interpretations which my brain, my reson, is doing about my environment, of my perception of reality, these are only interpretations which my brain is doing from all the sensory data I get from my eyes, ears, nose, tounge, all my skin, ... yeah, all my body! Right now I'm getting a sensory perception on how firmly and with what force I'm pressing the keyboard buttons out from the senses, the nerve endings, I'm equipped with on my fingers, from what I'm writing right now.

But, but, don't go an think I'm Well of Truth. Not at all. This is something I, that guy which is called Salomon walks around and think and writes, and which you, whoever you are, is sitting (standing?) and reading. And when I use “you”, then I'm actually playing with a presupposition about what is happening in another, abstract, person.

I think this illustrates presuppositions, and that to have presuppositions. My opinion is that there is no such thing called knowledge. I only have models, and then also I have models of the models which others communicate to me. And I have a model of Peter's model, where Peter's model is Jacob's model, and when I think about Peter's model of Jacob's model, then I get a model of the model of Jacob. In short, this is solipisme, that I in reality only have a chance at proving that only my self exists, but I'm trying to show that other people exist.

Sounds uneaseful for me to think about, that I posses no knowledge, but only a model of reality. I think I could get a better model by searching, and that feels relaxing, and because I think that looking for something seems relaxing. If I'm searching, then I only think that I will find something, not what I'm going to find, and not some particular thing. This is just a stance I have to myself.

For example, if I've decided to look for my cell phone, because I have a model that I have owned a cell phone (sounds strange, I know) for several years, then it's just my memory of that cell phone that's giving me that perception. I don't think, by looking for my cell phone, that that is going to make me find it. I think that I cannot know that, until after I have searched and don't want to look for it anymore, unless of course I actually did find my cellphone. If I did not find my cell phone, then I only can try and accept that I didn't find it, that my cell phone is gone, because I looked and I didn't find it. Then I can only try and accept that I didn't find the cell phone and try and accept that it is missing or gone and then just continue onwards from there.

I think that worries work someway in the same manner, the emotion that something is wrong, or more correctly, that there is something that I think I have to do something about. That gives me a desire, a wish, to do something out from this worry. Exactly what I'm supposed to do with this worry I can only find out from my (current) knowledge.

And I have one big worry, which, out from that which I think I know, and what I'm doing something about right now by writing this paragraff. And that is that I may in the future miss this connection to my emotions somehow. But I have a too simple a model, and that makes me flustered that I cannot hold thighter to my emotions. Who knows (no one), maybe that to try squeeze myself and run towards my emotions is what is making me lose my connection to my emotions and then they'll leave me; I don't know! No, it's probably just that I shouldn't try and censor my own emotions from myself, and maybe that is what is making my emotions surface.

Another worry, is that people, by reading small sections at a time, are only getting bits and pieces of what I'm trying to say, and don't get the whole picture. Because some of the previous entries, especially that I felt emotionally naked might people take on themselves completely. I was wrong!Decidedly so. Now I know that I just let my emotions flow over me, and I felt no reason to relax, but I did that because someone dear to me looked like they were taking damage from my behavior, that I felt too good, I was manic, I think. When I saw that they appeared to get it worse, I got an incredible shame over me, and just wanted to hug them. And so was done, and something in the hug did that the both of us got it better somehow. What it is, I have no idea, there is no model there. I felt at least better afterwards, and I hope the close one to me got it better as well.

Hufff, it felt better to write this. Then that came out, I have a mixture of emotions of worry and excitement. I think that people will either hate me that I somehow with my behavior got them really “up and running”, but I'm excited, because I hope they'll forgive me. Excited that they will forgive me ... that sounds selfish. I think now that forgiveness is something you do for someone else to get something back. A relief? Yes, it feels like that. I hope I'm not wrong with this perception, but that depends on how everyone by themselves percieve it.