The dimensions of knowing something is very shallow.
Everything on surface is performative. You can jerk off in your room, or
you can jerk off onstage. If you do the latter, it becomes more than
just personal and political, because it involves an audience. It becomes
performative. When you banter against a wall, it's yourself talking.
But if you banter against another person, it becomes a facade. This is
what the society is built upon: public bantering, publicity,
performances. And there is no way anyone can find any truth from looking
at the surface. It's why Noah's Ark is the most instinctively, brutally
honest and inhuman sphere that can ever exist - your essence perishes,
your existence is the only reason you're valuable. You become sexed,
gendered, branded as male or female because you're endangered.
I recently had a huge disillusionment on someone I was in love with,
or in the idea of love with. We were chatting without seeing for several
days, it was all lovely, during which he repeatedly talked about being
bored to death. One night, one very usual night, I realized something
very disconcerting; he was not only bored to death but was
excruciatingly boring to death. He was one of the most uninteresting
people I've talked to. I tried to be nice about it but I couldn't help
noticing it. He was flat, he had nothing to say not because he lost
words but because he simply was unable to conjure up any thoughts about
what I was talking about; he was deficient in something that was crucial
for me to keep company, and he turned out to be a cliff on Mars. I
don't believe that there are smart people and "lesser" people, but I do
believe that there are ones that flock together because they connect,
and ones that simply don't. And then I began to feel sorry for the both
of us, for not knowing what to say or how to deal with the blunt
situation we put ourselves through.
He insisted that he did not care enough to respond to
every insignificant thing I babble - which he casually put in those
words - but I knew for once and for all that we inhabit different
dimensions. It was one of those self-defensive excuses for simply not
being able to have enough courage, knowledge, or humanity to delve
deeper into and attempt to respond.
That is when I realized that my falling in love with the idea of
everything can be very dangerous. There are only few things in the world
where ideas rule the practice, and I am a minority.