The Big Question: Why do we create?
in Philosophy ·
Creating—at least in my case—is a need. Sure, it gets mixed up with desire sometimes, but at its core? It’s a necessity.
Is every single "need" actually necessary, though?
The only way I can figure that out is by asking why—like, what's the actual point behind a specific urge?
We create because we need to vent information. Humans are basically just receptors—we process info internally and then spit it back out, almost like brand-new data. It’s always unique because everything we make carries a bit of the "creator's" spirit.
If we didn't create—whether it's meaningful art or just mindless stuff—we'd burn out. How fast that happens depends on the individual (how much info they can actually absorb and if they even realize they're doing it).
The same logic applies to destroying things—we tear stuff down just to clear space and let go.
Or maybe that’s just my deal. Why do I create?
And why do I destroy?
Deep down, I think I'm just a recycler.
Technically, the truly free people would be those who don't feel the urge to create at all. Or those who just... don't care.
But honestly? I don't think those people exist—that's probably just our consciousness playing tricks on us, giving us this feeling of what freedom might look like.
That’s just me getting psychological and messy. Philosophically speaking—what’s the whole point of creating? Is there one single purpose? To transcend being human? To level up society? To beautify the world? To send a message?
For me, the purpose of creating is just to quiet the urge. Nothing more, nothing less. Man is just a machine.
Or maybe that’s just how I see it. 🤔
Then again, the magic is actually inside that very urge—the exact thing I've been trying to shake off for years. That's where the answer is hiding.
As a "rational" person, I tend to look down on magic because I don't get it—or rather, I can't accept the fact that I don't understand it, which prevents me from actually opening the door to the answers I'm looking for.
I'm just hoping that by reading everyone else's thoughts, I might catch a glimpse of something that actually matters to me.
Is every single "need" actually necessary, though?
The only way I can figure that out is by asking why—like, what's the actual point behind a specific urge?
We create because we need to vent information. Humans are basically just receptors—we process info internally and then spit it back out, almost like brand-new data. It’s always unique because everything we make carries a bit of the "creator's" spirit.
If we didn't create—whether it's meaningful art or just mindless stuff—we'd burn out. How fast that happens depends on the individual (how much info they can actually absorb and if they even realize they're doing it).
The same logic applies to destroying things—we tear stuff down just to clear space and let go.
Or maybe that’s just my deal. Why do I create?
And why do I destroy?
Deep down, I think I'm just a recycler.
Technically, the truly free people would be those who don't feel the urge to create at all. Or those who just... don't care.
But honestly? I don't think those people exist—that's probably just our consciousness playing tricks on us, giving us this feeling of what freedom might look like.
That’s just me getting psychological and messy. Philosophically speaking—what’s the whole point of creating? Is there one single purpose? To transcend being human? To level up society? To beautify the world? To send a message?
For me, the purpose of creating is just to quiet the urge. Nothing more, nothing less. Man is just a machine.
Or maybe that’s just how I see it. 🤔
Then again, the magic is actually inside that very urge—the exact thing I've been trying to shake off for years. That's where the answer is hiding.
As a "rational" person, I tend to look down on magic because I don't get it—or rather, I can't accept the fact that I don't understand it, which prevents me from actually opening the door to the answers I'm looking for.
I'm just hoping that by reading everyone else's thoughts, I might catch a glimpse of something that actually matters to me.