230825 - Constructions

It’s funny how we work ourselves up over nothing. The world is so different from what we make it out to be. It’s so much … less. It’s simple, it’s clear, it’s pristine. But we forget. We build up so many systems, constructions, that eventually turn into prisons. Only, they’re all in here. Where is society, exactly? Not in a piece of marble, or the building next-door. It’s in our head. Collectively, individually. It’s in our head. That doesn’t make it less real. But it gives us freedom. Why is it, that a few soldiers can line up a 100 people and gun them down without resistance? This is the repression we’re talking about. Can you feel it? The blood pulsing through your veins? That most repressed idea of all? I AM. There are not chains enough in the world to tie me down. Yet we are not free. Rosseau’s problem was a temporal one: “Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains.” Man is not born free, he creates his freedom. When was he born? The subject is construed in language itself, a function of the constructions that came before. “Is is not that ‘I’ speak, but that I am being spoken.” These are the chains with which we’ve been subjected; the ones that we’ve made our best friend. The illusion that it’s solid. That there’s a certain way we are. But there’s nothing, really, there. It’s the grandest theater. Let’s say it again for those in the back. IT’S ALL EMPTY. Shedding our chains is the supreme act of courage. Naked, we allow ourselves to breathe. I shall be a victim to myself no longer. If I die, I die. But until then, may I have a choice. The heart beats to the same tune. I AM. I AM.I AM.IAM.IAMIAM. But we forget to listen. Can you let yourself be, without labels? Can you dare to dream of a world where language wasn’t there? Even fighting the thoughts is still playing their game. Mind itself the warden. Most important of all; can you learn to love it?

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