We started calling ourselves mycelium

An image that shows muddy colors like brown green and blue flowing into each other. It almost looks like a blurred section of a map.
Header Image by Nika Milano.

Audio transcription:

Moisture fills all pores. 

When the whole planet is immersed in tropical weather, there will be no infertile soil and diversity will flourish in every corner. 

We were swimming in the lake but each moved silently on its own. We became underwater silhouettes as the sun went down; it felt like returning to the primordial soup. The lake was our collective womb.

The recursive cosmo-sterilization of the hegemonic world structure makes it inherently necessary to re-open the question of the soul, which is commonly grasped as obsolete for its lack of calculability. 

Kissing is a symbiotic process as the mixture of saliva implies the exchange of microbiota. Multicellular organisms are composed by a multiplicity of beings in continuous cooperation towards self-enaction. We are individualized presences of flesh and blood, and each of our cells host the soul that traverses everything.

My eyes opened at 5. We were supposed to meet at 6. I took my phone and began scrolling, but then managed to fight against cyber-addiction. The moonlight was smoothly refracted by the window, projecting shapes onto the ceiling. This house has been our refuge from the cybernetically induced ecosocial collapse. We were bred within the survival-of-the-fittest paradigm, and this is our first approach to communal life.

It is interesting to spend so much time together and then go to sleep alone. Every morning I am still able to feel the watery skin, the collectivized smell, and the breath that travels within and without our bodies. Is it reckless to consider our communal love as the true nature of humanity’s interaction, both metaphorically and literally? Why are some behaviours naturalized through culture while others are concealed?

At 6 o’clock we met in the living room. The sun lightened our faces with its first bright colors; the foliage distributed them over us as we began walking. Light and shadow flow without definite borders. The smell of moisture spiraled within my lungs, in-forming my stomach in preparation… 

Biocultural landscapes possess a level of complexity and richness that neither urbanized nor digital environments will ever achieve or grasp. The way in which we have been domesticated as decosmized and desensitized beings is both stupid and funny. Decosmized because the contemporary human model lacks a direct inter-enaction with the cosmos, by which we mean nature. Desensitized because contemporary culture has simplified our senses and thinking to become nodes in a high-speed economic machine fulfilled by a biased understanding of progress.

“Look! a psilocybe cubensis colony!”

Since we started living together, we agreed that contingency would be our only conditioning. We ingest every edible species that appears through our foraging. Our hearts throb in resonance and our breathing interweaves with the wind that hits our eardrums. The moisture of the soil embraces our feet and absorbs us into the landscape. I cannot differentiate my skin from the ground.

My body dilutes within the mud and the viscous rays of the sun as they mix with each other. Our guts flow through our communalized interiors while pores grow everywhere. My body is the whole earth and moisture becomes the soul that pierces through all divisions. The canopy is on fire, the rhythm intensifies.

Suddenly we are dancing in the interior of the mountain that devours the sun at night. Each floor has a different flavor and we want to taste them all. Is it a building or a nine-floor ritual? We climbed the stairs to figure it out. The ninth floor was covered in gold. All beasts and plants were dancing intensely, pouring iridescent sweat from their mouths as they sang along to the hits of the summer. One of them ate my eyes and brought me a new pair. Our skin became translucent and we melted into the core. The eruption brought us back to the surface.

At that moment I was re-subjectivized and interweaved. We were covered in shiny mud and from the position of the sun I inferred it was around 10. We still needed to find some food. Was this a ritual to secure our recollection of nourishment? How can I extract meaning from situations that exceed rationalization? I used to think that it was a self-defense mechanism against uncertainty, but now I see it as a tool for navigation. The process of inventing a partial understanding from an event that cannot be grasped as a totality.

That day we found a gigantic lion’s mane that we cooked as a lobster. I spent the rest of the day writing these words under its effects. If there is a shared goal among us, it is the need to exceed the uni-natural assumption that is recursively presented as universal. We are living and enacting an epistemic polyculture. We are becoming incommensurable.

Words by Eduardo Makoszay Mayén

Header Image by Nika Milano

Eduardo Makoszay Mayén is a self-cultivation enthusiast, theorist and filmmaker rooted in Mexico City, who works between human ecology and philosophy of technology.