How to call It?

Wherefrom has this avid and insatiable ogre appeared who unfailingly seizes hold of our egoisms as so many toys and trinkets for his feasting and enjoys the wounds we ourselves inflict with our own hatreds?

This dependency, this vulnerability that afflict us, are they ineluctable?

Where exactly lies the separation, where does it operate?

Is it at the site of death, of this final veil and irreducible interference which come to interrupt and undo all we are and have, whatever may be our conquests? Or are the hold and grip of separation located or originating further upstream?

***

What are we doing with this time which is to each and all together imparted?

We now all have these increasingly sophisticated gadgets, elegant and snug and comfortable, to enable us to fill the void and animate it and we binge and gorge with images and sounds and reduced and violated information so as to repel and postpone the reckoning – just a day, just an hour longer. So it is, because we still are unable to really be, to actually exist: these instants when we do exist, which make us aware of existing – unique and without compare – are so rare in the scale of an ordinary human life that the rest, all the rest appears as plain stuffing.

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