“We must free ourselves from our egos, Ian, to merge as one with the universe,” she avers.
“Yeah,” I say.
“We must abandon the self, for it’s an illusion,” she continues.
“However, the illusion is real,” I contend, thinking of the age-old unresolved paradoxes of appearance and reality every philosophy 101 student wrestles with.
“We are deceived by the Veil of Maya!” she counters triumphantly.
“Ah,” I concur, unconvinced.
There is something in her insistence, the way she appropriates the pronoun ‘we’ that makes ‘me’ want to run away, for there seems no one with a bigger ego than she.
“Yeah,” I say.
“We must abandon the self, for it’s an illusion,” she continues.
“However, the illusion is real,” I contend, thinking of the age-old unresolved paradoxes of appearance and reality every philosophy 101 student wrestles with.
“We are deceived by the Veil of Maya!” she counters triumphantly.
“Ah,” I concur, unconvinced.
There is something in her insistence, the way she appropriates the pronoun ‘we’ that makes ‘me’ want to run away, for there seems no one with a bigger ego than she.
