It would seem, at times our lives are nothing but a very distinctive search we start in our adult childhoods, bored with our own minds we ghastly touch the edges and reside to thinking there is nothing more. Our imagination went all grayish. Learning became slower or obsolete. Our bodies produced weird amounts of hormones and we go on spending all our days in beds. Slowly we slide in to “the first”. The first is a cyclical entanglement in many different networks of relationships. The first is all the people you know and all the people that know you. The first is all the places you visit and the stories you told. The first, is a omnipresent state of apathy, of grandiose settlement for keeping in line, for painting within borders. The first is the weight of your life pressing down on you as much as it can, slowly erasing those parts of the map of your mind you haven’t explored recently. In this state of exhaustion, of complete and utter passivity, we search for the other.
