There are no wrong turnings on the road to Falsafa; every bend, every fork, and every step along the way counts. This is because suffering is the mother of thought--which is to say, feeling gives birth to thought. Recall that Heidegger located the roots of thinking in mood.
In youth, one may hear the call to Falsafa and set out on the road to that impossible city; but few arrive there young and, of the few who do, none last very long.
Falsafa, then, is a city of old men. It would be a joyous place if more women frequented the town, but such is the fate of its inhabitants that women rarely grace its streets.
It is difficult to account for this dearth of women; perhaps the most satisfying explanation is that the city is ruled by Thais, the famed Alexandrine courtesan. She is both temptation and consolation. She brooks no competition.
When all is said and done, it is a lonely destination, Falsafa. One lives and works there for the sake of its Courtesan Queen in the blinding light of a pitiless sun.
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