According to folk metaphysics you are a complete little personage, a soul or animula, suffering and animating a body object whose operations are in objectively real time and space. If you rephrase all of this in functionalist terms it is a complex interactive structure in which certain distinguished substructures define space-like and subject-like perspectival relations among themselves and with the other parts. When you do this nothing changes except for the disappearance of certain accompanying concepts, epiphenomenal in the true sense, which posit an independent and fixed reality of a convenient model which affords some practical shortcuts at the cost of some rather drastic overheads. For example, the model makes much of the distinction between insides and outsides, subjects and objects, none of which are supported by the bare phenomena of experience. The functional rephrasing of space in these terms is fairly straightforward, but time is more challenging since it bears absolute irreversible difference. The same necessity has it that the experiencing cannot be experienced as that time cannot go backwards, and in this sense it can be said that the time is the only way in which the appearing appears.

Everyday schizophrenia, that you are an entirely different person in a different world in the morning and at night, according to the season, weather, last night's dinner and other conditions, is the simplest way of seeing that there is no sharp division between you and the world. What moves through time - to provisionally lean on time - is the whole complex of experience, and the parts that you momentarily call self and world are contingently defined in each movement by material inferential relations. It is a matter of applying a certain ontological topology, to which the mind is perfectly adapted, to do which results in the 'full-service' being-in-the-world that you have at any particular time. This might be an insight resulting from performing a phenomenological reduction, or from the habit of a basic meditation in which you feelingly locate the self vortex within the welter of active engagements, or merely from living with your desires. It should be clear the that who is experiencing is not the self in the feeling of self but the nameless presence of the totality of whatever happens to be.

That subjectivation is an inevitable and inescapable result of language or related overarching structures is merely the latest form of metaphysics. You know more and more, have multiple overlapping accounts, physical, psychological, aesthetic, social political etc., all of which add to an immense sway of determination, of bondage. The broken impossible subject is the subject par excellence. All of these are motivated by the guiding question, what is it? That all of this works as it does is because you cannot yet ask what grounds it, to do so is foreclosed, taboo, obscene from within this understanding, as if you are attempting to give birth to yourself. Nonetheless, this question cannot be prevented, to do so would be to admit it. It is of a different dimension which passes through the other space as if it weren't there, as if there is no 'Da' there.

Everything, that is every thing, subjectivises you. Being in the field of the other is the most salient example, but the presence of what is taken to an other subject is only what makes this the most obvious. The same effect, a separation from yourself that brings you about is the way you are in your world. This means that you do not possess your own ground, you are in rhetoric and not persuasion, and it is an index of the unawakened condition. Logically, this is only possible for a kind of being that does possess its own ground, since how else could it be projected, but by an odd inner twist whereby it cannot be recognised. To be awakened is then to be immune from subjection, which is the same as being free from any subjectification. This can be mistaken for having no self, but that's not it at all. There is nothing in human reality that demands it be of a subject. This is only of the realm in which you first find yourself. The puzzle is how to emerge from it, and to do so without denying it.

Every worthwhile question has no answer within the same terms as those in which it was formulated. Such a question brings about a movement of attention which alters the entire landscape of meaning and your place within it. You have no master map which can describe where you now find yourself. The possibilities are greater than you think since the reflex of thought is to assimilate the new to the familiar. And so you miss the pathways than can take you further away from your starting point, further towards the destination that is yours. Only when you are propelled by a powerful distress within the familiar are you sufficiently awake to realise the strangeness of the journey. How else can you recognise what you have never looked at before? How else can you see the door that has always been open but that you have always blindly walked past?

Every content can be chased down to its initial moment in which it is always found to be preceded by a context, or frame, or clearing which need not themselves be definite contents. The context for a content might be only the sheaf of possible ways for that content to be, an indefinite comprehended plurality. If you bring it to attention it reveals a further even more primitive context, or pretext for a staging. This is what experience no matter how direct shares with thoughts no matter how abstract and distinct; they are because their place has already been prepared. This can't lead to an infinite regress, at some point there must be a possibility of a content that has nothing behind it, that gives birth to itself out of pure emptiness, pure vacuum. This is miles behind what you know as consciousness, but the strange inner urge in consciousness is to swim upstream to that very brink, its origin and finality.

Your thought is of the thinkable, but the thinking is unthinkable. Experience is of the experiencable, but the experiencing cannot be experienced. The only motive for speaking is to utter the unspeakable, and for reading to encounter what escapes formulation. But you go on searching to escape from what cannot be lost and hence cannot be found.