The Roots Of Concepts Absence
In this gray and hazy land, the absence of thought does not arise from prohibition or coercion, but because the environment and its structures have never nurtured the soil where concepts could grow.
Isolation of Senses and Environment
- The earth is sealed, the dwellings have no windows. The sound of wind, birdsong, raindrops—all are blocked by thick walls. They touch only the surface but never seep inward. The senses can receive stimuli, yet they cannot translate them into symbols or meaning. Experience exists, but it cannot be abstracted into concepts—thus people never realize they need to “think” or “doubt.”
The Blankness of Language
- Here, language itself is incomplete. It records the tangible and the visible but has never named wind, light, distance, or the abstract relations of danger. Where language is absent, thought is absent. Without words as tools, cognition cannot extend; without tools, thought remains at the primitive level of sensation. Language and thought depend on each other—yet here, neither has begun.
The Circular Structure of Culture
- Rivers loop without flowing outward; streets repeat and close upon themselves; even social activities echo in cycles. In such an environment, pattern becomes the sum of all experience. People have never encountered the power of change or difference. Yet cognition is sparked by contrast, by choice beyond repetition—none of which exist in this circular world. Thus new things cannot take root, and concepts remain absent.
The Lack of Symbols and Verification
- Where no concepts are born, cross-checking, logical reasoning, and causal judgment cannot exist. The brightness of light, the flow of water, the presence of danger—none have a system of symbols to support them. Even when natural phenomena appear, people sense only raw existence, without understanding, reasoning, or verification. Without mapping, thought cannot grow; without verification, knowledge cannot accumulate.
The Closure of Mind and Subconscious
- Over time, the absence of environment and language shapes the closure of the mind. Even when a sliver of light pierces in, the psyche and subconscious automatically shut it out. What has never been named cannot be understood; without verification, connections cannot be made from experience. Thought remains at the level of raw sensation, and any attempt at abstraction is as futile as grasping air.
Thus, the “absence of concepts” is no accident but the joint effect of environment, language, cyclical structures, and the psyche. A blade may touch flesh, but it cannot cut through the blankness of thought; light may illuminate a room, but it cannot enter a mind where no concept has yet been born. This world clearly exists, and yet it can never be known.