Where do you fit in?

We spend much of our lives rationalising our ego-centric goals:

Justifying selfish thoughts with selfless, utilitarian premises.

In this way our idealised vision of ourselves is perpetuated,

Simultaneously providing a costume in which to mingle with society.

Only in safety and privacy do we feel comfortable stripping off the clothes that bind us,

Like a lunatic having their straight jacket removed once securely inside their cell for the night.

Being seen for what you truly are is terrifying, as well as electrifying:

Nakedness is sacred, and thus so too is privacy.

We paint the protruding bulge of our desires with pleasing colours and shapes,

Something like a chameleon, fat with stolen honey.

This grotesque attire is necessary when great numbers of animals congregate,

Social cohesion requires a source uniformity, a common ground.

Yet the cultural conforms, like social poly-filler, seals its subjects into place,

Restricting free movement of mind and body.

Certain techniques and substances dissolve the grid of deceit,

Revealing the landscape below and above:

By liberating the individual from the deeply worn tracks that we tread,

They are given the chance to climb out of that network of trenches and walk a new path.

Why else would the most powerful psycho-social solvents,

Those that break down doors, rather than painstakingly picking the lock,

Why else would these soma be rejected within a rigid social framework?