Humans are possessive. We think our thoughts are our own. We think our insights are unique. We are wrong. With slim smirks of possession glued to our faces, we are wrong. You will never be happy up against Gilligan solitude.
We hold spaces as our own. They are not. Remember that unceremoniously leaving a place of residence is okay. Without lonely goodbyes, without dwelling on the time you held that warm body on the cold floor, without having one last cigarette by the window you use to lean out and watch cars pass across the blue bridge down in the distance, remember that all that is happening is that you’re leaving a place. No more. No less.
Know that the violence of cutting up a plastic six-pack ring with the good-natured intention of saving dolphins and fish is ultimately self-serving. You are cutting up a piece of material that will never in our lifetime cease to be. You are only prolonging death. You are the opponent. Of the mind. Of the place. Of other organisms.