In The lime house hole:
Scene 1; The hole.
A life is of course borrowed from experience. In a sense it is always some one or something else’s property that hole. SS shunned space which no one else feels like sharing. A space in which one annexes whatever falls ones way and builds them into potpourri’s of the mind.
To have a live I then to pitch oneself on the edge of experiences, to be set in a violent world which possibly does not care very much about oneself, and to from this point of the edge amass what one can and when one can.
But why?
Or where?
In whose name does one do this? In ones own? But that is daffy. One is that which is the amazing – ho then can one amass in the name of what will only be through that which is amassed.
The gathering or hoarding of data is a far older affair than myself and is servant to something rather different to m.
I garner experience, and form selves as I am alive. That is as I am caught up in reaching to a partially internalized world.
This is after all what all this property is. It I me light. Me in the light of things I garner and gather – things I make as mine.
Of experience ten bas life in me grows restless and demands this or that – as though it I am animated to respond t the world.
My In my responding in my enabling change and oddity everywhere I live. My being holed up in the oddest of places and in he worst of experiences I strangely thrive.
My life is therefore pitched within the weirdness of ability to grasp at world, Not myself this grasps is the express in the garnering of others lives, others properties. I have a speciality in this. They is a group who are my natural prey and which I bind myself to as a leach or limpet. They become mine.
I gather then their experience to me. I garner their property. These experience becomes my blood and the clothes my flesh. There lives are my food.
Wait until he prey comes close.
However this does not tell us what hat odd life in me is? here perhaps the problem is that there are two solutions.
One the one hand I might claim to be that life itself. I might be its anonymous projection. If I do the entire world is mine. Others –t here feels there sensibility matter not a jot – I tell you. They are mere Poll parroting my experience my ability to change and challenge. Nor does any oaf the niceties of truth or order or even decency matter. Life need never be decent or ordered. It simple takes overbearing. It names and shames everything. that is it creates for and through itself a niche for another ignites world (it perceives therefore) ,a it then sets to arranging a world in which this other functions and operates.
Life muscles in less as a force for transforming and more as a annexing tone others – others lives. It destroy and creates as it sees it. It is everywhere and yet nowhere I particular. It deals death. It deal life. It always assumes that it must win.
It is likewise a bully and a cheat. The life in my demands I laud it over and triumph in strength or through the manipulation of weakness. Al the niceties of hear t are lost in this power. To live is to be cruel and it is to destroy- just as surely as it is to boor other experience and muscle into others life’s.
Life insists therefore that at the base level an ill starred bullying thieve or even a traitor lies at our soul? As we are embodying life we assert its interest (which need of course not lie in ours), and are in the gip of powers which hook us up with others, and yet in a way that always seeks to manipulate and triumph.
However here one needs a word of caution. This embodying is not a conatus. Conatus in the bedrock of a soul (and an essence). Life is far more treacherous than that. It need not confine itself to one body or one mind. It hops between them all (in a serious of boat0. It is perched then in no individual, as such. To embody life becomes wicked in a sense because one does not hold down an single desire. One ceases to be a single simple entity – in the middle of one set of endeavours. On the contrary one bullies and destroys ones way form sliding registers of others desires- forgiving them this way or opening them out that. What one is therefore open to a series of complex rethrows, and is so constantly. The only rule is that in all these rethrows one is also their.
One therefore does not care for any one set or desires or friends – and will disown or slay them as the occasion arises.
Ones own personality or the possibly to hold down a single series or set of desires or even own them as ones own is therefore also lost.
Not explodes across all desire and assume or subsumes it to oneself. N one but no one is aloud to poll parrot a feeling that one does not also have. If they do they must be destroyed.
Bodies life is therefore more a vapour than a reality. It floats above a world pouring over it, and forcing it into various different extremes or opening out of differing types and possibilities.
One therefore endorses the monsterhood and the sliding register of power being a monster allows.
scene two the row
The alternative is rather complex, To be alive is to borrow the clothes or parts of long dead men. One looks with living eyes out from a body which is a legacy of millions of years of evolution; while one attempts to pattern the oddities of the tumble into the everyday with the powers and patterns of a mind whose concepts came from elsewhere – ones parents, ones history a past. One is therefore always exploding elements of a past into a present or better attempting to understand the senses or nonsense within which the two are caught together to build a…
The problem is here what is one building? Hat are these experiences and they relations>
Is m=one simply replying to the world and that s that> if one is then one is certainly operating like the life outlines above. Live is the perpetual right to reply to whatever is thrown against- a reply which insinuates a being and all the rest.
The alternative is not to reply so much as rejoined and do so in a way that genuinely changes both sides. To be alive is thereof to live I the scrapping of a past. One pas o ones present becomes then a sequence of spare parts or others including anything one becomes to take up and use. Living is therefore never simply about owning. It is not ironically about life at all. It is rather then opening as one is alive up onto the construction corruption of everything that one has ever been or could be. in an exchange one reach to others and through this encounter becomes able to refuge what one self might be.
To be alive is then to knew then everything about one is borrowed. In the light of this borrow one allows others to change ones mind. One exchanges and acts in the knowledge of this exchange – this bedding interchange and the sequences and challenges of a change. One acts one breadths one lives them in grasping at others lives and changing across them, this is of course always a perilous undertaking. One must not listen to the echoes in whatever in one wants to equate itself to life itself. These echoes would then claim that all his change was ones own.
However the point is that one cannot own it- one might be alive and yet everything including that living is borrowed. It is caught within the mss of the borrowed mind. To borrow a mind or an experience from another is to therefore allow the gift always to be modified or withdrawn. I genuinely need to look to those changes you might effect in…whatever I given then become.
I am pitched into a mirage of ms therefore and you, each taking up what you are and running across the hoops and loops in a me to be whatever…
This undertaking is at once not limitable. T insinuates itself into everything my world is or could be. I cannot therefore break it down or reflect it back. It is what I demand what I will be throw. I have no choice but it and be through it and its nature.
However of course as long as I appeal to others and through others I invert the relation. Life imposes or rather operates within the imposition of bodies and material elements (however it then arranges them – it needs bodies it is not stuff of spirit). What this incarnation of life does is then to throw these parts askew or awry by always challenging any one of them. of better by using the fact that life is arrange across al love them, to increase those elements a life can do or be. it therefore opens at n the bodies and lives of others, and in changing and challenging them extends the whole. Life is then perpetually redrawn and reworked is challenged to respond and change. It is made to dance across the mutual fiends tune.
Live is not the friendship so much as that in whose friendship the mutalities are opened. It is the fact that we are alive likes and loos are verity restrict. The blank relativistic canvas of the universe is rich but not that rich. A I live however I pen up what cane done through a me. I opened into another. Live is then the name for this opening. It is what operates a s a self claiming it for its won. And yet those links I forge are what creates the mirage of life itself. That is I talk of being alive because of my ability to reach other challenge and change – life follows on this ability (and not the other way around). If is then that which he mutual endless creates as the single axis which its (the mutualism) always is exceeds every relation and open out onto others (no matter how odd they are) is forged. As that ability is thought in the abstract one will claim that it is a property of life (and he worry about whether that means the universe is also alive in a sense or not). however the reach the grasp the exchange they are not alive as such. They are rather that in which live becomes to be. the swapping over of mirroring back of stuff, in which ands through which one comes into being and comes to be alive.
Where live lives is then the breaking of other times and other places across exchange in the present (or pas or future) in rejoinders which do not reply so much as change or challenge or shake up everything and anything.? Life is too borrowing to understand this change. It merely assumes it must have been what was already there to inspire it.
Mutuality ignores the insinuation. It knows its power I that of the real. One starts then it imagines of the world alike oneself and what one is. One reaches out to another therefore in the mirage that oneself and that other are caught at one point as the same. There experience is therefore also ones own (and yet this point respects that difference I am not yet you0. but in reaching out I also respond to a you. I changing myself I change what you are to a more – and look to you to respond to his respond. You do so from your budging point of difference. And I then catch up what you have said, and so we carry on.
Live which claims this change for its own mistakes the denying which must respect the difference while insisting on the sameness the starting point of in you and in me. This sharing or borrowing of a you is what then allows in our different responses elements which are neither you or me but each other though the other and in the mind of the other to be and to exchange. Live might claim these as their own, but their inception as always elsewhere.
To annex all this richness as a life is therefore always possible (it might be God; or the selves by the same logic and yet oddly so is to miss the subtly involved. To be alive is not subtle enough. It misses the fact that as I am mutual I get to throw others rethrow what I am rethrow that live in taking up and exchanging with others as other. At the root of this exchange lies a point our matter, beyond both of us. The exchange because stoning other than us of stuff is in accord in this point. It opens up then a bond between us. We feel our difference from within but know we are as one flesh from without. I this in the paradox an exchange is set up.
The exchange is then always begin in the borrowed clothes and another’s mind, and in the making or remaking of that borrow we run towards other goals, and where we will.
Life is therefore far to greedy. It misses the odd start of the mutual in that which we both share and neither are – the borrowed clothes of a body or a mind. As we start it s neither of us and this is the point. Mutual is the each the power or resonance of this neither. It is the neither let be as such in our mind. It is the this neither that the whine of life wants to claims was and will be always its own.
But what then happens when these two element or aspect of living are pitched into one room. They are after all bother there in the Limehouse walls. The are both a part of an us, which is always composed of experiences which tumble in from elsewhere: Also then composed of a world of pre and generosity to that prey one needs them one needs to exchange something with them).
Life will attempt immediately to claim mastery. It will claim to know everything about the stranger about the mutuality it certain encompasses It wants that mutuality for and through its own. It then needs it for what it is and through what it is.
It will therefore want its power and its ability of its own. I looks then one it, a something to capture and hold.
But the mutuality is of course not necessarily going where any one incantation of life can for tell. On the contrary it way it is gift of stepping beyond any one holding down of it in any one nature. It opens out connection of a level or a plane on which live operates and yet which logically as they belong to the stuff live itself uses (the pattern of memories and the texture of stuffs) which life as live as such has not laid claim to (yet). The living is the system – it exists in the way these are taken up and blended into a living thing, while the mutualities takes them in their pre-blended refinishes state and hopes them into other constructions A past then that a life had flown over is suddenly pulled from under it. Where it thought it had a power it becomes vulnerable and open. Mutuality does not destroy so much as delimit. It allows affects and other shared elements into he lime house walls. It forces a live to recognise that other elements also matter- that other constructions might be made fro the parts which re folded into the systems of living. Other systems or partial system, which and to simply, be contained in the one live (or can but only latter after then have establishes whatever communication they have).
If pretence and power to now is then pricked in the limehouse hole and the sea air f other times is made to dance into the experiences of the minds in the hole.
Life will of course spring back and immediately advance itself –and yet on new territory and in the light of new evils. Life is therefore caught up in the mutualism, it is dragged unwilling into them- it is forced to share when it wants everything- it so forced to allow element beyond or other than it- elements it could claim but only a there is risk of loosing their won complexities and intricacies. Life is therefore delimited and yet always allowed…Aided but made (slightly) less the tyrant of the limehouse hole. It looks askance on the world and is thereby caught.