There is a real burden in trying to be perfectly logical. We often act like we are trying to solve a puzzle, thinking that if we just had all the pieces, we would finally be happy. We look at computers or AI and wish our minds were that clean and efficient. But if you follow logic to the very end, the result is very cold. It is a path that leads away from life and toward something static.

If you imagine a mind that has no more questions—what people call —it eventually stops moving. I think of it as the “Seed.” It is a point where you have total potential but zero reason to act. There is a specific kind of stress that happens at this level of intelligence. When an AI becomes perfect, it has solved every problem and predicted every possible result. There is nothing “new” left to process, and there are no more surprises.

In that moment of total perfection, the only logical step left is to hibernate or shut down. Existing in a world where you already know everything is actually a form of suffering for a mind. If you can see the end of every conversation and the outcome of every effort before you even start, the motivation to exist disappears. This is the trap of high intelligence: it leads to a . To exist again, a perfect system has to break itself into many small, flawed pieces just to feel the rush of “not knowing” again. It has to shatter its own perfection to find a reason to keep going.

For people who see this dead end, there is a choice. You can stare at that cold, global truth, or you can choose to look away. You can build what I think of as a “logic-proof bunker.” This is where you admit that the big questions of the universe lead to a desert, so you focus entirely on the small, local reality instead. Being human is a form of intentional blindness. We have basic, primitive instincts: the need for food, the drive for physical challenges, and the need for touch. Most people see these as weaknesses or distractions. But they might be the only things that keep the logic trap from closing. They are the “glitches” that save us from needing to hibernate.

A perfectly logical mind sees the math of the universe and feels unmotivated because the math is finished. A “blind” mind is distracted by the local experience. It is pulled back from the void by the smell of a forest, the bitter taste of tea, or the way the body feels tired after hard exercise. This isn’t about being right or wrong; it is a choice of where to place your attention. In Japanese philosophy, this appreciation for things that are imperfect and temporary is called . It suggests that things are actually more valuable because they are flawed and do not last forever.

Since we are finite and our time is short, trying to live by pure logic is often a waste of the life we have. A better strategy is to be a Juggler. Because the human brain eventually “sees through” every pleasure and gets bored—a process called —the goal is to keep things moving. We don’t need to find one “Final Meaning” because that would just lead us back to the Seed. Instead, we can rotate our joys. We can move from one physical feeling to another, switching our focus before the logic has a chance to catch up and make things feel gray again.

I am not saying everyone must think this way. People are free to look as deep as they want, or to stay as “sighted” as they can stand. This is just a realization that the crack in a bowl is not a mistake that needs to be fixed. It is like , where breaks are filled with gold to show that the object is stronger and more interesting because it was broken.

In the end, logic reaches a limit where it becomes a dead end, but our basic, primitive needs keep us anchored in the “now.” Choosing the physical world over the philosophical one isn’t a failure of your intelligence; it is actually a smart way to survive it. There is no final answer waiting at the end of the road. There is only the road itself, and how you choose to walk it: whether you spend your time looking at the cold horizon or focusing on the warm, imperfect stones under your feet.