Life in a commune apartment has two focal points − the kitchen and the john. When unrelated people share these two facilities on a daily basis for any duration of time, inevitably they become related. If you cook together, you are likely to drink together. If you wait on each other to take a shit, there’s a good chance you might end up talking about the shit you have to deal with. Social psychologists have long commented on the bonding power of proximity. Love, as Sergei was saying just a few hours ago, while still in the loving embrace of Klava, was an illusion of bias, nothing more, and nothing less.
“Why an illusion?” Klava asked.
“Because we are all, without exception, inextricably self-serving. Self is its own bias. Each mind is its own religion!”
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