I'm getting kinda sick of explaining myself, not just to others but to myself. As if the context of an experience is dependent on my ability to notice how much different it is from other experiences. We're swirling around in this soup together, crossing paths unexpectedly; who am I to say my path is correct and others are not?

Consider that our minds are fractal factories, their parts built onto each other with incremental purpose, derived from a microscopic world so small we can barely perceive it with the most powerful atom smasher.

Just as some cultures use shrines to witness the singularity of one, derived truth, we use buildings and monuments to realize ourselves. The sad thing- I suppose- is that while other cultures realize the impertinence of fetishizing a shrine, we Westerners are literally addicted to that which we worship.

Is any of this wrong? No. And Yes.