Meta-oikos.
Meta (μετὰ) as with, after, among, in between, amid.
Oikos (οἶκος) as home, family.
Because this is the condition. Day by day, year after year.
Each day makes you feel different to others, and to yourself, consequently.
Each day adds a little more uncertainty to your life.
You never know if you’re inside or outside, if you’re a part of something or you’re alien to everything.
It’s a strange world. Everything has a boundary. Every thought is limited. Everyone is confined.
An italian modern minstrel said that “the thought, as the ocean / you cannot block it / you cannot fence it in“.
Each day you have to oppose your flexible identity to the ready-made suit, sewed up by the tailors of history – we can call it society - and no way is allowed to run forward undressed.
Everyday you ask yourself where is my home?
Proudly you tell yourself everywhere is my home, but then you think back what if there is no home anywhere?
The border draws an in and an out, an inclusion and an exclusion. The color is a borderline. The color of your skin. The color of your passport. Your ID. Your banknote. The licence of your existence.
I moved my soul. I shifted here; a step out of a dream (my old web log, All is Dream), a step into realty, in the great river of life: a river to sink into, or swim, flow within, go across or navigate…
–
AHimsa
Picture (“w gli alieni“, “long live the aliens“) shot on may 11th 2007, near 17:40, from a bus, line 27, in Via San Vitale, Bologna (Italy).
