There is “the thing”, of which I am an epiphenomenon. You are an outsider; and my circumstantial friend, as we both are outside “the thing”. Our friendship is directed: yours towards me and mine towards you. And with this direction, you force me into the thing while I force you out of this thing. That’s the erroneous representation of love, you see. We have come to like this. This representation of “could be” as fantasy. The same we have unfortunately come to embrace in our many human cultures. And in order to keep you, I must occasionally forget the fact that I am from this thing (as much as, in a broader sense, you also are) and dance with you the contemporary dance of push and pull, of dig and fill, the grave dance for forgetting oneself to embrace another… the seemingly morbid dance of replacing oneself. The sacred scare!
But when oneself has been redefined as myself in yourself, when your hair grows from my follicles and your vision comes form my very own human oculus, when my thoughts are articulated by your speech and my path walked by your feet… Then comes the realization that you also have a thing to which I am an outsider. And my friendship towards you has removed you from yours, as you removed me from mine. You fell into this error to learn
the our mistake. This is one the first time your feet have been enslaved to this tune. Fascinating!
p.s. Try reading this again. But this time, replace the “I”s with the you”s and the “you”s with the “I”s. Keep doing this till the personification vanishes from your mind.