I · am, · I · exist.

Thump, against my chest;
Beat me, Heart, break through the bone
Let me be exposed.

It's interesting how much I fear exposure. Maybe it's normal, I wouldn't know, so few people are honest (with themselves, let alone me). But hey, I don't exactly propagate honesty, either, I chronically manipulate people I consider below me. But uh... I'm honest with myself! Ahem. It's not my fault other people don't believe in real psychic power - mind reading, suggestion, etc.

I think part of a spiritual Utopia would have to involve peace with exposure. You will walk like you're dancing, talk like you're singing... That the lines between I and Us would blur. Though, of course, this is just/both a metaphor for a state of being, and a plane of existence. Blah, life.

Exposure: being seen; seeing yourself through their eyes; the opposite of another fear: non-existence. I am a sum of opinions and pretenses, propagated truths and lies, an echo across the super-conscious. Do I only exist in those extensions of myself? Silly.

Exposure: my weapon. Tear down the walls, place a mirror before the shit pile. Exposure: my defence. I am walled in by mirrors, lest I be exposed. Do not see me, my intelligence. Do not fear me, I only want to live in peace. Before you can meet me, you must have met yourself.