The price of belongingness is high, covertly demanding compliance with dictums limiting individuation.
What appears to be social connection, is merely investments for the collective construction of lost selves in a lonely crowd offering acceptance rather than worthiness. Be content with us or lonely without us.
Paradoxically, shared contentment is lonelier than outlier aloneness. The challenge lurks in the foreboding threat of banishment. The cultural illusion of belongingness at any price to selfhood must be confronted with existential elegance, and a moral compass to navigate storms of mediocrity. Sirens luring with promises of blissful togetherness, and demons intimidating with damnation to a hell void of identity.
Yet, liberation comes from entering nothingness to discover the essence of selfhood. A terrain of becomingness rather than being. Ironically, the threat from darkness can transform to awaken indomitable presence. Reject togetherness with the Lonely Crowd, and the fee for admission to a theater of disempowering reruns.
Such is the way of The Drift...