So if you are in fact an entity that is unreachable, formless, the romantic aspect of all actions is somewhat demolished. When you say "I love you", you touch no one. When you kiss someone passionately, you can't kiss an actual entity, only skin. You're telling your brain, or maybe your brain is telling you, to entwine your tongue with someone else's, a vacuous action, yet somehow it manages to transmit to them that you love them. All communication is symbolic, just in different ways.
One can imagine some kind of telepathic communication as a higher, closer link between people, closer than an attentive glance across a room, certainly closer than sex, in which the distance is not all that shortened.
Setting aside the meaninglessness of life or lack thereof where does this leave us? We know that, for one, communication feels good, proportionally better when one identifies himself with another. Secondly, the absence of communication is toxic, so we are compelled to interact with whoever, even though we are a far cry away from truly reaching them. Lifetime exposure to one person or small group of people will feel somewhat symbiotic, but still an abyss away from their minds, in effect making your mental life lonesome by design. Yet the way to expand your mind (eons farther than you would by your own) is through others or merely being exposed to the ideas of others. Conditioned by the finite limit of your life the only thing left is a kind of communal mental hedonism: a huge network of similar balls, all passive to interaction to each other, each attempting to channel the others' energy to vibrate ever more strongly, until their eventual demise.
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