Sleep was close to target today, so there was a good amount of time spent on the lucid mutation and mapping of past events. I thought largely about the note I closed yesterday, with. Fools, on earth.
Baskets of deplorables? Baskets of plebs. Binders full of folly, living in my head. It is just the ordinary process of living among a majority that has common animal traits :
... the young business owner, with a family who celebrates weekend brunch. Paying themselves 40 times minimum wage, running cheaply imported labour, for a family business that they say, "ah, I have no choice in life, but to do this";
... the middle-aged executive, who shares over tea, that they had spent too many years in early careering on work they did not enjoy;
... the pious citizen, submitting daily to the relationship between themselves and their mildly conversational maker - mostly lost in their own thoughts, unable to discern what comes from within, against what is of without;
... the hungry parent, bound to their love for their children, reducing themselves each hour, for the pleasure of social experiences at home, or for pride in accomplishment of building an adult;
... a baby, anxious about their loves, and about who will love them, past certain age;
... a leader, inflamed by identity with their nation, or race, or class;
... a scientist, who sees the world only as the unfolding of an abstract equation;
such are the lives of we.
