About Knowledge.

About Knowledge.
‘I know, that I know nothing’ (Socrates).
Everything we know it has been thought to us, the name of the things we see, the words we use, the language in itself is something that has been thought to us. Knowledge is experienced through memory. I know who I am because I know who I was yesterday, and the day before yesterday and the day before and so forth until the day we were born. Without my memory, I could only be a new me. A new me looking for knowledge and without previous knowledge. Everything would be new to me. If that would be possible this would mean that I would be able to discover my own knowledge. Nothing that someone had theorised and thought to others, myself included. However, what I would discover would be “belief” more than knowledge. But beliefs can be either true or false. “Knowledge is true belief”, Plato said.
But does one really have to believe something in order to know it? and do we believe everything we know?

-Alessandro Motalbano Gucciardo

Sul viaggiare…

Si è sempre un po’ tristi quando si parte, si è sempre un po’ felici quando si arriva. Si è sempre alla ricerca di qualcosa. Si ritrova un amico, si incontra uno sconosciuto. Ci si guarda e non ci si riconosce. Noi viaggiatori, inconsci di memorie parallele, col cor pulsante, saggi e coraggiosi, vagheggiamo in questo infinto che mai finirà di essere nostro.

10/09/16

-Alessandro Motalbano Gucciardo

A first glance in my Daily thoughts

I wrote this for an exercise. It’s about an Immaginative city.

 

The city is called in many different ways and no-one seems to be bothered about it. Foreigners call it wrongly sometimes, leaving a smile on the lips of those who have never traveled before or simply don’t speak another language. They find in such a familiar name with unfamiliar accent, something exotic and peculiar to them.

The city has lots of inhabitants, and the differences between them are many. However, no one seems to care about it because each individual feels other’s individuality as his own. Everybody is empathic and no one blame others for their differences. Beauty does not exist because the concept of ugliness does not exist. When people look at each other, they see who they really are because everyone is one and only. In the city everything is known and it is well known that everything is still to learn. People learn every day and their mistakes are the reminder that not everything is perfect. Their formation consists in seeing who they are and being part of what they know. In fact they are what they know but they don’t know who they are.

They don’t believe in just one thing because despite one is one and only his thoughts are many and endless. Every belief is believable but yet none has been proven. Nobody knows or is willing to know the ultimate truth because they know they will know it eventually.

Every object in the city is unique and if its shape is irregular or its colour not colourful or even if that object seems to be useless, every inhabitants looks at it with eyes of admiration for something that within its existence stands there, in front of them, for a reason or another.

The city is invisible to those who don’t want to open their eyes. The city does not exist for those who simply live.

-Alessandro Motalbano Gucciardo