A jelly-fish swimming in the water free. What is it that distinguishes it from the sea? A thin membrane across which a process occurs. Water is vetted at the gates. Some is let in, some ejected. Other than this it is casual in its surroundings. It moves with the movement and that is all. It speaks plainly, moving in and out of currents as they occur. It’s body is a motion. The motion of the sea. Contemplating existence outside of this is pointless though for some a life without a back-bone seems equally pointless. It takes different types. This is a common saying in any time and place.
But look, along comes an aggressive type with teeth and jaw-bone. It is heading directly towards the jelly fish. Why? Because it does not see it. It simply does not know of it’s existence. So that’s when the jelly fish turns to other means. It colours itself in the blackest of inks- from the inside out. And this secretion. The colour in which it is recognised is also the colour by which it destroys the intrusion of such recognition for the ink is a deadly poison.
So it clears its passage and sinks back into the transparency of the water. For truly it is a part of the sea and it needs no other company.
It exists. As perhaps you and I exist, in these moments of danger when each of us are allocated at the borderlands that separate you from me and it is in such a tenancy as this that this existence, once it comes into being, is simultaneously ruled out.
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