Interrupting Subject-Object Relations & Weaving Subject-Subject Relations – An Invitation

Meeting at the Edge of the Known

There is a rhythm to modern thought.
A rhythm that orders, sorts, measures, classifies.
A rhythm so smooth it feels like truth.
So seamless it feels like just the way things are.

It arrives before the conversation begins.
Before a word is spoken, the roles have been assigned.
Who assesses, and who is assessed.
Who verifies, and who is verified.
Who stands as the subject, and who is the object of their regard.

You know this rhythm.
You have played both roles.
You have seen how it moves—
The way it makes one position inevitable, another invisible.

This is how it happens.

One speaks. The other weighs.
One offers. The other decides what it is worth.
One holds the key to recognition. The other must be unlocked.
A hierarchy disguised as dialogue.

But here—
Right here, in this space—
That rhythm meets its interruption.

I don’t need your approval to exist.
I don’t need your approval to know.
I don’t need your approval to dance, to research, to think, to create.
My existence is not contingent on your recognition.

What I am offering is not an audition.
It is not an argument.
It is not a petition for entry into the order of the real.

It is an encounter.

And for it to be real—
For it to be anything other than the same old role-play—
It requires that you, too, step beyond the smooth machinery of evaluation.

If you are here to assess,
To determine whether what is offered fits inside the terrain you already know,
To sort this encounter into categories you already hold,

Then pause.
Step back.
This space is not for that.
This space is not for you yet.

And if I recognize the frame—
If I see the hierarchy moving beneath the words,
If I sense the rhythm of evaluation clicking into place,
I will refuse to engage.

I will say:
“Would you like to reframe your question without positioning yourself as a universal arbiter?”

And if you cannot—
If you do not see the frame,
If you do not wish to shift it,
If the rhythm holds you too tightly—

I will simply say: “Next question.”
And you will know what I mean.

This is not a game.
This is not a performance.
This is not an invitation to negotiation.

It is a threshold.

I recognize that stepping down from the position of arbiter is difficult.
It is uncomfortable to relinquish authority, to unlearn unrestricted autonomy, to release the illusion of objectivity that grounds your sense of self-importance
It is disorienting to climb down from the pedestal of hierarchical knowledge, where truth, beauty, and common sense have long been assumed to be yours to arbitrate.

But your discomfort is not my fault.
Your disorientation is not my problem to solve.
The weight of your authority is not mine to carry.

If you can meet me at the edge—
Not as a subject assessing an object,
Not as a knower adjudicating the unknown,
But as one inquiry meeting another,
As two situated intelligences,
As entangled fields of perception,

Then stay.

Let us speak without the need for a verdict.
Let us listen without the pull toward classification.
Let us stand at the edge of the known,
Not as gatekeepers, not as applicants,
But as co-inhabitants of a space where something else might emerge.

If that is possible,
Then we begin.

If not,
Then we do not.

There is no conversation to be had until the frame itself is broken.

So choose—
Will you meet me here?

Or will you return to the rhythm you already know?