The conglomerate mass of souls we exist as eats, transfigures and distorts. We are a being. Terror lurks in various components of a god vying but trying to coexist, in the ripples and schisms as we desperately feed ourselves. Dynamicism keeps the whole alive, we would fall into catastrophic stagnation elsewise— but the web of energy writhes in necessary discontent. Our individual shielded auras and private pockets of identity are vital but the source of dread. Each own perception and bias create fear of the potential perceptions of others. The hive tries to form routine and familiarity but each person has internalized and externalized the horror of our existence. We exist in such integral proximity to each other and rely on human effort to survive and yet lack peace with our place in the universe. The mass of souls shifts and churns.
I think to myself: Wedon’t think the same, live the same, how can you understand my words as I do? Can anyone be fully understood when they express themselves, without the entire context of their life? Does it matter?
To say we can never connect with each other is a cruel falsity as is to say we ever can fully. As with most things, our cosmic relationship with one another is of temperance, balance, finding the middle ground. To reach out to our aura’s end is horrifying. It’s vulnerable on an existential, psychological, and psychic level. We perform metaphysical miracles by being fully open and honest.