there’s a plot in the new movie I’ve seen three times that follows a woman who has left her life and family to serve and adhere to the customs and expectations of a cult. I tiptoe down the hall outside the room that I rent with weary eyes in loyalty to the whip of a job and think. am I so different from her? all but our total freedom surrendered to the security and affirmation afforded by belonging to something outside of us, demanding our time and obedience. we have both left our families and serve our roles before ourselves and those we love. I see the life I’ve hoped for only in dreams and fleeting etchings of memories or distracted doodles in the margins. but oh to be protected and to serve the machine. no need to think or justify the fact of being: already tied round the contract like a ribbon or a plastic seal for freshness.
isn’t it wonderful?
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