It is serious times indeed. A species entire has to make up its mind. Shall I stay singular and frantically keep searching for tools to build some shelter?

Put

spotify:track:3cJ5VGhKzfrJZVTVGOyBxW

on repeat

 

And when we finally found that cave, we started painting it. To see and enjoy, but also because the act of painting made it into a shelter, a home. OK. We move on.

And when we finally settled down in houses, we started building fences. To keep the animals in, but also because the very act of fencing made it into a shelter, a home. OK. We move on.

And as we build cities we build walls. To keep some people in and some people out but also because the very fact of building walls made it into a shelter, a home. OK. We move on.

 

I think by now we know that everywhere on earth we go we cannot take out the shelter from what we are. We build our own home and embody the space in between. We can only care for it. Like a blanket folding back and over us we forever extend our clothes to bridge an emptiness so deep, ah well, so deep.

 

What is it we are building now? Hybrid things, smart cities, invisible interactions and resonance moving all around us. Where is our equivalent of walls, fences, shelter warm as a blanket woven by your grandmothers?

 

Where is it?

 

Ah yes, shelter itself has become fluid. What to do as a human in need of clothing when none can found. None. Really? Yes, none, nowhere.

 

How can I care if I cannot find shelter?

 

I will keep checking my phone.

I will keep checking.

I will keep checking.

 

Keep

 

Checking

 

Checking is what I will keep.

 

It is all you have left.

 

And we build it, purposefully.

 

The constant in this process, so inevitable, so human, so simple and clear?

You my friend. A ‘self’.

The ‘I’ trying to find cover in any situation.

Think twice before believing that self-organization is about the act of finding shelter.

It is not there.

Nowhere to be found.

Self-organization is about organizing your self.

Now you know.

Now you know, everywhere you go you ‘re gonna have me as your man (ah Dylan).

 

It is serious times indeed. A species entire has to make up its mind. Shall I stay singular and frantically keep searching for tools to build some shelter?

 

Or shall I go plural inside and keep warm from standing upright?

 

The question simply boils down to you asking yourself how much clothing do you need?

 

A lot?

 

In old times, I am sure some old man would have called it Judgement Day.

 

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