"Oh, look! A poet", said the scientist to the philosopher...
Who is the wiser, the philosopher or the poet? The poet, because he only aspires to describe what he feels, not to discover what it really is. In a way, all things truly are what they seem to be. Our desire to know what, is only surpassed by our craving to know why. We describe everything, reducing it into something else. But it lies in the nature of the description that it loses something vital compared to the original. We tend to forget exactly why we describe and what we actually want to do with our descriptions. What and why are not always applicable. Some things just are, without a why. The world is itself, not a what. This is important, not because. It just is.
The line between the best of philosophy and poetry is sometimes barely discernible. The difference between saying 'this is' and saying 'this strikes me as', is huge. The moment I say 'this really is' I conceitedly attempt to change reality (and quite often to the worse). 'It looks like' must not be mistaken for 'it is'. "You, my friend, are not, as you may have thought, a human being, but a soul in a body." - How foolish! I am me. And if you wish to describe me in science as well as in poetry, you are quite welcome. But dare not try to say that what I really am is a bunch of electrons sizzling around in a repulsive purple-grey lump of meat. Because if you do, my body might violate yours with quite scientifically measurable results.
I am a human being, nothing more, nothing less. Animal in my desires, human in my weaknesses and divine in my spirits. Not 'I am' as in 'what I really am', but how I feel, the way my life impresses me. The human being is dead. Long live the human being!
A philosopher will attempt to straighten remove every question mark and bend every exclamation mark he can lay his mind upon.