My clothes are not in my house. I wander around these cold-looking, heated rooms in longjohns. I get close to the door and I cannot go any further. Custom Custom Custom. I feel the less and less accepting eyes. A law of proportions - further from my bedroom, weirder looks.
Cannot go to work, cannot change that the water cut out last night. This is not a physical reality, but a social. Think about that for a moment. I have no pants, longjohns and tights are the name of the game but unless Im running or skiing, forget it...
I have to sit here, read about civilizing missionaries and the savages of this land, and watch the tour de france... a mixed sentence... A freedom so limited that it is constricting... but imagine this for a moment that you are trapped, mobility 20 meters in any direction, but there are no physical boundaries, none! The land the mountains the sky the sea are the apparent limits but you try to move and the eyes stop you, like lazer beams. Not even eyes, just thoughts and social constructions...
Maybe what we think is freedom is not at all... Maybe this virtual, socail fence surrounds us to limit our capabilities...Think about that...
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