Nothing beyond cage
I murdered the feeling when I gave it a label. From something scarce, I made it abundant and confined. I forced it into the cage and it suffered the choking narrowness of abundance. And it pushed me into a loop... for so long I have been reducing so much that cannot be reduced. There is no vessel that can contain it but in delusion we have all tried it and believed that it is packed and put into a final form while there is no form and there cannot be any form. This repertoire is not just my predicament. It is our predicament that rarely comes on surface but lives beneath, tampering with everything. It continues its reductionist movement and we accept it. In abstraction we live, there is nothing more abstract than existence itself yet we try to make everything concrete and categorical, the fear of no control has damaged us both emotionally and intellectually. We are trying to win a struggle between abstraction and an absolute capture while our being itself is without any concrete foundation, this house of cards is meant to get destroyed once we try to tweak it a little, and the hysteria that follows is intolerable.
When will we accept that the map we hold is forged and it itself is not the territory? Even if one masters reading this map, it can only help in but navigating. The life that floats in the actual territory will always remain a mystery. There’s so much that a map cannot capture and there’s so much that it has captured but not true. What happens when the reality of map is unmasked? It is not a sobering experience at all, it is intoxicating.
The lexicon is extremely elusive, dear friend. One begins with consuming and ends up getting consumed. It makes you a better map reader, better cartographer of this world, we find joy in this lexicon, it is intoxicating in its own ways, the waves in it are frozen and we take it for permanence, the seasons of lexicon seem eternal but what is real is always dynamic and invisible.