To Readers Of Not Sent Letters (fifth letter)

Here we are, continuing our play with persona, information, knowledge, narrative, interpretation, memory, voice, language, reading, writing, images, art without capitalism, professionalism etc, despite the fact that a certain supplementary confusion was introduced, I believe, with the intentionally rapid variance of approach in these not sent letters from the start — confusion and misunderstanding that a more directed or consistent dialogue would’ve avoided, perhaps arriving at some sort of shared understanding concerning my intentions — but of course any recognition of such sharing and understanding would be immediately emptied out, branded, performed, bought and sold within the societal phantasmagoria that threatens to colonize the entirety of our inner lives.
This project is structured the way it is (and functions the way it does) out of necessity.
Some might assume that appreciating this necessity requires a certain capacity, sensitivity or disposition, but such a thing cannot be defined or verified because each experience with this project is, to a certain extent, fluid and unknowable. Engagements are historical, singular, varying with different stages of action. There isn’t a particular question or purpose envisioned as entirely given among each of the project’s interlocutors (including me). You can never depend on these not sent letters to provide something in a meaningful way or to a sufficient extent.
This project is generated on the basis of already possible, practical discussions and refuses to become a primary ideology, school or philosophy in and of itself.
The accord between those of us committed to this project raises the following question for me: what are the purposes or directives suggested by it over time for each of us?  I suppose that in trying to come up with adequate answers we will become conscious of actions that we’re already engaged in and perhaps decide which of them should continue or stop. We might also derive provisional definitions of capacity, sensitivity and disposition through these sorts of decisions.
Most importantly, I consider the answering of these questions to be a means of identifying and comprehending antagonisms that might arise between us. In an adventure such as this one — always resisting the pressures of a hostile, spectacular environment — all wounds become gangrenous very quickly. It is important to not let damaged relations install themselves.
I suspect the end of insolence is exclusion and all exclusions are reciprocal. But there is also a relation of forces in this reciprocity: Who is right? I approve, perhaps more than anyone else, the insolence of these not sent letters against the world, their refusal of it and the exclusion of so many of our contemporaries who are on the wrong side of history. Whereas, hypothetically, any insolence amongst ourselves is useless and unlucky. It also contradicts the avoidance of relations of power and hierarchy we attempt to practice.
Thus, if I may dare to say so, we don’t have the right to refuse the conduct of others at the moment when they exclude us and this project, and we don’t have any weapon against them other than exclusion. What an equilibrium of terror!
I do not pretend to reduce the relations of this project to a sentiment such as friendship, but we have no other agency in practice without the promise of such a thing.
Cordially yours,