The Subject: Chapter VIII – End of Episode 1

Vulnerability is a machination of the reckless lack of protection The Subject seeks to surround herself with. Most of us stay afloat by employing at least some percentage of blockades, if only defensed by practicality. The facets of abstraction are the enemy, unless you know that allowing yourself to feel is the basis for being a human. This is why The Subject ushers in the complexity of reality, and finds attempts to curb what is real, a tactic of delusion, the id doing its job. The basic notion of separation fuels the gaps we seek to close, and imprisons us in our own constricted solo-worlds. This is why it takes only one question to open up to the polar extremes of reality, the totality of our experience on earth.

The modes for analyzing our focus are governed by outside logic, ego’s long since diminishing these blinding keys to ourselves. The purpose of life is not to achieve, it is to grow, to learn, to be horrified, to love, to yearn, to smell, to taste, to hurt, to question, to breathe. It’s sheer exhaustion, and it’s 12 hours of sleep. It’s plans, and it’s not sticking to them. It’s sounds and it’s short, it’s loud, and it will indeed be quiet. The Subject wrestles with the finite nature of life in the same way we all habitually defend a self that is completely impermanent.

My suspicion, is that all this is practice, a banal prelude to the only real occurance. As if the cosmos is giving us daily opportunities to understand the same lesson that we’re confronted with repeatedly. The weight of the world constantly offering us an escape clause… and despite the constructs of society, the methods and the unit measures, the area codes and the disparity of the quality of the pavement – we all bring it back to the intangible things so often heckled by the pace of civilization. The productivity of a game established, mysteriously located in a bubble within the earth.

We’re social, and we can’t help it. We need people. We desire connections that make life feel like more than an exercise in futility. It’s my hope that we can start to take hints from the day. It’s my goal to listen more, to see the colors more vibrantly, to walk a bit slower and be available to the secrets the shade holds. The royal we, basks in absentia, as our individualities barricade what should have most likely been embraced. The past is a device for forgetting to see what is inside each one of us – The Subject, living our momentary journey, as pulsating flesh and converging light.

evl – 11.09