These days, I think about dependence. Society has transcended the social contract, evolving into social symbiosis: the survivalist’s reliance–“I need you”–contradistinguished from convenience–“I want you”–a point of focus in an environment where spheres bleed into each other. In rebellion, thus, people assign spheres to relationships: for richer, for poorer, fair weather, liquor before beer, you’re in the clear.
But what when mis-assignment/mis-alignment occurs? One attempts to traverse the bounds of their sphere, and is aptly chastised: the sight is of a popping bubble, an iridescent field returning to molecules; the sound is of anything from glass breaking to dragged footsteps to “get the fuck out of here”–either climactic or denouement, but always punctuated by silence.
There is also the issue of loss, or rather, its inevitability, or rather, its response: people are not institutions, people tend to forget. Facades wear away through time, over time–some decades, some mere minutes–revealing bitter, pitted cores: hard, dark, inedible, to be discarded for inconvenience. No matter, there are enough skins left in an average city to feast on: it is enough that there are enough to need, no need to be enough.