The unknown is always unnerving. The inexplicable disturbing.


Not knowing, is a strange itch. Irritating, debilitating. You defend yourself against it. Scratch it out. Figure it out. And if you can’t? Get used to that tingle forever on your skin – refuse to accept it’s different from your defined reality.


Rules are made to be broken. But does anyone? Does anyone live without a body, think without their minds, feel with their skin? Does anyone ever do anything the others don’t? We have our lives defined. Our souls labelled in coded letters like the numbers of a prisoner. And one by one the chains of society thrust upon our bodies till our reality is defined – a prison cell where every untoward emotion is an unacknowledged itch.


You came here with a blank state. And before you could learn how to read and write, it was already filled. No space for you to define yourself. Till you reach that age, where you tell yourself you have erased it all! And now you’ll rewrite your life. But who are you kidding? You never found a duster. You just stick sheet after sheet on top of that slate, till one day the glue comes off and they fall cascading down and you see that first mark of chalk on the black of your board – the coded letter – your first definition – your name.


Who are you? You are nobody. You are whoever wrote on your board. And so now you go write on others board. And definitions get linked to other definitions – till the whole world is defined. And what isn’t, doesn’t exist.


It’s a mastermind. The most beautiful trap ever designed. When the trapped themselves chain the free? – you don’t need a cage.


I may have the courage to write this. You may have the courage to read this. But neither have the courage to accept it.



One thought on “Definition.

  1. Robert says:

    People are always telling you who you are one way or another. The old hermits solved this problem by going into the wilderness by themselves seeking to without the noise of society find out who they really are!

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