We sometimes get stuck in definitions. Definitions can help us see our next step but it can also shut us in. We are shaped by our textualized culture to want to understand everything. We loose the point of the things we don’t understand but that does something else to us. It has been a mistake to see knowledge as immaterial. Nothing can be separated from material.
Is it just these people I’m outside of, or is it everyone?
You raise us as islands and teach us to see ourselves as individuals, separated from the rest of the world. You isolate us in little compartments, stacked close together in big buildings, but separated so completely as if existing in different dimensions. We live on controllable islands of sameness in an ocean of otherness.
But you’re forgetting that there is no word for the difference between me and the world.
Or am “I” that word?
Doubtfully, The Introvert
Stack of concrete compartments
Stack of velvet compartments
Group of cages/city scape
Stacking compartments close together