We are hidden, even to ourselves.
that which compels us, we resist, because it seems wrong somehow.
Sure we act out, but these are pressure relief valves, we have yet to break down the damn, the facade that secures us from those we know to be our captors, and rush forth with the flood of self.
We are aware of this possibility, it haunts us, this possible baptism in the waters of resignation, surrender to our real fate.
For to do so would make freaks of us, and place us in a final state of antagonism with the shared illusion of the ‘social.’ To do so would mean to speak out, to preach, yes, to preach. Not to teach, not to share some knowledge or answers, no to preach, to get up and point to the questions, to point out the ways in which things are not working, to become rascals and discontents.
The topic that binds us, those of us who are in hiding, is this, this knowledge of our eventual fate, the shadow that haunts us, it terrorizes us because we don’t even know if we are right, we don’t even know the nature of that splinter in our mind, but the only way we will resolve it, is to one day become knights of infinite resignation, a term coined by Kierkegaard, referring to that person in society who is maddened by a God who demands something that cannot be morally resolved.
Those of us who can relate to this account want nothing more desperately than to belong to society, to be folded into the hierarchy of virtue, but that force that keeps us from doing so, what is this?
It is possible, like Abraham, that our greatest glory will come from a willingness to do what threatens the foundations of our sanity. God help us.