Logo of the Museum of Vestigial Desire
The Museum of Vestigial Desire


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To crave for intimacy is to want to consciously reduce your options. There are some of you who are dissatisfied with the array of options out there vying for your attention. Options require choice. Choice demands a firm belief in game-play, in the fact that even if your choice is nullified by meta-dynamics eventually, it does matter, If only as a ritualistic act. Because rituals are like triggers in a game. Rituals are the buttons, the levers. If they are not performed the gameplay or rather your participation in the gameplay does not further. So resistance is not a pause button of course but it does create bumps and jolts in the otherwise smooth texture of game world highways.

For believers in the heroic virtue of individualistic action, choice is fodder for action that fabricates history. Choice is the test where individuals prove their mettle. Choice is also tiring, punishing and unforgiving. For a moment if you think that the significance of doing x, y or z in a particular situation is so expanded that it actually directs the course of your life, you will freeze and you will not be able to respond from the facility of your sensitive body. You will only be able to process the choice and your available options on the basis of your analytical and logical faculty. And then your life will remain in that mould forever. The days of laughter and paper planes and nonchalance will be over. Identification is a key hurdle to pass. If you can choose without thinking, be automatic and be responsive like a loaded gun, then choice is a fair game to play else it is a self-destructive phenomenon.

To experience intimacy you have to choose. You have to narrow down your preference for human company to a very few. And in this narrowing down, in this choice you show your hand. Why is it worth analysing human eco-systems to understand subjects? Because they reflect choices. If we see where you live, if we see whom you live with, it tells us everything we need to know about you. It lets us paint a picture of you in our heads. A picture that is complete, faultless and clear. We can then simulate you in our heads and project plot points in the future before they unravel.

So intimacy is not possible without exposure.

And intimacy is still desired.

So it is a risk.

In a story there needs to be an internal logic for a particular risk to be taken. Either the risk represents some shift in the psychological landscape of the subject and is necessary to be established or it is the outburst of a long-suppressed desire.

For us it is a missed opportunity.

Think of what might have been if intimacy was a casual sport, if it were more of noise than signal. It would have been so obscure as a source of information about a given subject that it would have gone into a space of dense statistical analysis to be meaningful at all.

Then casual intimacy would have been the norm rather than a symptom of perversion. Now, that scenario is a fantasy. The possibility of intimacy is like a gun loaded with blanks, an empty promise.

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