Romantic Individual

It’s a Western inclination to apply all agency on an atomic level: after all, how else will you enact your freedoms?

We can forget about the more covert, insidious mechanisms by which to enslave people anyway. We’ll forget that and humor it wholly alone.

Yet even in this isolated assessment, it still seems so disingenuous. It’s just not reality.

You are the product of thousands of years. Derived of people and their experiences, ruminations, whatever else pulsing through you.

We aren’t interfacing as individuals; we each convey with an inner legion. A splice there, fragment moved: the eyes flash a hidden heterochromia and bipolar inclinations.

There are no individuals. Only representatives of a forgotten and monstrous story.

It may seem like it’s wholly up to you where to take the story next, but everyone behind whispers through your cells. When we speak, so the long chain speaks through both of us. And if you listen close enough, you’ll feel their presence.

As I construct each sentence, I am only translating to you what has been woven into me. We are all but a part of our own incomprehensible fourth dimensional entities.

Remember!