I would like to think this story to be the culmination of my life's philosophy up and until this point. I graduated from the University of Melbourne, wherein I undertook a double major in Economics and Philosophy. During my time there, I had the great pleasure of learning under some very accomplished professors, some very rare books, some very interesting people, and some many interesting experiences. I am not sure if I have always been a great student far as behaviour and attitude would go, but I am a 100% sure I have been the best student in terms of actually being able to learn and take in lessons. And through all these lessons from all these different schools I think has altered my ultimate view of the world within and without.
Many ask why I chose to major in Philosophy especially. I think I have always had a knack for that rational, logical endeavour. Friends who have known me from a young age know of my mathematical prowess, and how I loved solving puzzles, and how I loved thinking, really.
Since I was a young boy, still sleeping with my parents young, I used to ruminate a lot on the future. Especially so when night hit, when my head would be abuzz with ideas, driving me up the wall with insomnia. One night, I began thinking about the afterlife and of eternity. It scared me, genuinely. Both concepts. I thought about heaven and hell. My family was buddhist at the time, and my mum had this DVD of all the tortures that you would be put through in hell according to buddhist scripture, and she would play it in the living room sometimes. I'm not too sure why still-- maybe it was an attempt at discipline? Psychological torture? Regardless, it let me down this path of inquiry:
Suppose there was a heaven, and suppose there was a hell. And suppose you end up in either realm, doesn't really matter which one (for the purposes of this hypothetical). Now what? Do you simply persist in that realm forever? An eternity in hell, an eternity in heaven-- neither one sounded very pleasant. It was the eternal bit, the concept of persisting forever that kept me up and genuinely gave me my first existential crisis, in perhaps its rawest form. What do you mean we would persist forever? And it wasn't like the alternative was a great answer. Death into oblivion and nothingness. I would be lying next to my mum in bed being wracked with these thoughts of enduring and persisting forever and ever, with no relief in sight. And somehow, as much as I felt as if I should share these thoughts with someone, anyone, it also seemed like when I did, no one could understand. So instead, when I had these thoughts again, I would simply hold my mum a little bit tighter and sometimes she would ask me what was wrong and I would simply reply "Mom, what's for breakfast tomorrow?". Because the one time I did tell her the problem as it plagued me, she simply told me to shut up and go back to sleep, and that it was more peaceful to live without worrying and fretting about these nonsense.
And I suppose she was right, to an extent. And it was also what she knew, that was her answer. That was her best attempt at placating these fears. And I didn't know this at the time, but that led to frustration, because my rational mind craved certainty, it craved an answer.
As a teenager, I think I had reconciled and resolved this problem by bidding it to apathy, and a slight unwilling resignation that perhaps the only thing awaiting anyone after death was oblivion. That gave me peace for a while. As much as it could give me anyway. My mum was right in this era- it was simply better for now to not think on it. But the question still greatly bothered me. It was always at the back of my mind, lingering like an unresolved item on a checklist. When the day came to a close and night swung around with its stillness and quietness and all I could hear were but the thoughts in my brain, it would come around again and again and persist so thoroughly throughout my body, culminating in my stomach with such fervour I thought the sinking feeling would swallow me inside out and whole. And as someone who loved solving puzzles, who loved resolution and answers, and who would win awards after awards from his ability to do so, it was my destined nemesis, my Moby Dick, my eternal rival.
I graduated my major in Philosophy with First Class Honours. That required me to undertake and learn in depth the ways of formal logic, but ironically, during this time is also when I honed my prowess in the irrational-- and it served me well. I only truly understood the ways of emotion with philosophy, and with the help of my friends, at the end of the shores of logic. I also understood then, after solving problem after problem, that the greatest mathematical problem was a philosophical one. In fact, all of the greatest mathematical problems culminated to, to me, philosophical ones.
Infinity on High stands as my final answer and resolution to my greatest, longest standing problem. One of eternity, love, life and death.
To everyone I have met in my life and have had great conversations with. To the people who raised me in all the different facets of my life. I'm sure you know who you are. From the very first to the very last, this is dedicated to you-- thank you for having me.