The Anatomy of a Cage
The Anatomy of a Cage is about the trouble of connecting with others while locked inside our bodies. Originally published in Artocratic Magazine.
The other day, I was at the zoo. And I was looking between the bars at this handsome gorilla. And you know what, he was looking at me, too. And his eyes were just the deepest most sensitive brown eyes I ever did see. And I smiled at him. And he didn’t quite smile back, but there was something there. That we shared. An excitement. A ‘God, if only things were different….’ But I knew things couldn’t be different. And he knew it too. So we parted ways and the fantasy fizzled off, and floated down the abyss river junction.
What a tragedy to be separated by a cage. To spend years and years of your life stuck inside an un-enterable place… Wishing and praying for some company, a pen pal, a conjugal visit...
But as I continued on my way, I had a most uncomfortable thought: Wait a minute. Haven’t I spent years and years stuck inside an un-enterable place …? Wishing and praying for some company, a pen pal, a conjugal visit…?
And that’s when I looked down and saw it. Not the same kind of cage I saw at the zoo, but a self, wrapped so thoroughly, so tightly in flesh, I’d completely forgotten it was there.
Thankfully, though, I did see the light through some openings. Very small ones, mostly. Yet through these holes, I remembered, that it is possible for caged creatures to share themselves. By sending out invitations, so to speak, tiny pleas to be discovered and known.
If you ever have a chance to look around, you will undoubtedly witness hundreds of these kinds of invitations being sent. From my observations, most are sent via the eye holes- subtle SOS’s transmitted through sideways glances- Hey, wouldn’t you’d like to take a break from your cage and climb in mine instead?
Unfortunately though, most people are too busy to notice.
These days, with all these cell phones and laptops everywhere, if a person desires company in their cage, they’ll have to resort to more overt invitations. Such as, cage-decorating. I myself have tried this method- low cut t-shirts, lipstick, attractive hats, mineral foundation, song humming, memoir writing...
Everyone has their own tried and true method. And everyone hopes their decorations might be interesting enough to a lure another person out of their own cage to notice theirs. Everyone hopes to hear another say, Oh, my, look at that beautiful cage! I’d love to know who lives in there!
From my experience, when one caged being spots another cage they’d like to enter, there’s an ‘assessment period’. The person entering wants to make sure they really do want to go inside. After all, they don’t want to get trapped. And the person receiving the visitor, even though they may have been waiting over 20 years for someone to enter, might also feel apprehensive when they hear a knock.
And who can blame them?
People like to put their feet up on sacred places! And leave behind debris that is almost impossible to clean up!
Who are you? they’ll ask through their peep hole, and what do you want?
Well, I don’t know for sure. I was just passing by, and I noticed your cage, and I was interested to know if you wanted company. I’d love to know what’s inside!
Once a person is deemed acceptable, the cage door is opened, slowly, and one is permitted into the first chamber of the cage, the vestibule. And it is here that more direct invitations may be sent, through the mouth hole-- Welcome to the entrance of my cage. Please pardon the mess, I haven’t had company for awhile. Would you like some tea? Some appetizers? Why don’t you take off your coat and shoes and stay awhile.
The person looks around. And it seems safe.
Sure, thank you.
At this stage, the person is led deeper, into the next chamber of the cage.
Where they are allowed to take a chair. One that requires deliberate posture. No slouching. And here, both mouth holes attempt to access more information about what’s inside their cages.
So, how long have you lived here?
35 years. Do you enjoy it?
Oh yes..
You do?
Well, it can be a little lonely.
Really?
Like solitary confinement, to tell you the truth.
It is typical for mouth holes, as they traverse deeper into recesses of their cages, to stumble upon hidden truths. When this happens, this truth must be illuminated and laughed over like spilled milk, or the journey into each other’s cages will cease immediately.
Oh.. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so clumsy! I spilled that all over you! Jesus, I do that every time I let someone in my cage… it’s a disaster!
It’s ok. Really.
Oh no, it’s not. I’m just so exhausted from all this P.R. work to get someone into my blasted cage. You know, sometimes it just seems easier to be alone and fantasize rather than keep being disappointed by the truth of things.
I think you’re cage is wonderful, so far.
You do?
And really, I’m not looking for a castle. I’m just looking for someone to relax with.
Oh thank god..
Mind if I touch your hand.
No… Not at all.
It feels wonderful to experience the warmth of another’s cage.
And so, you get closer.
Until you’re in each other’s arms.
Thank you for coming inside my cage, you say.
Thank you for having me.
At this point, both humans feel their hearts beating. And yes, they can almost feel the presence of something else... What is it? Perhaps each other’s original pure unadulterated essence? That special glow which has been locked deep within our flesh sacks for so long? Well, whatever it is, it feels heavenly. And the lower holes begin unlocking!
Many people are under the impression that when they gain access to the penis and the vagina, they have arrived at the holy grail. And though these certainly are very popular and coveted entrances into the unadulterated essence, they are not unto themselves the actual meat of what we’re interested in connecting with.
But alas, we must enter these holes in order to go deeper still into each other’s cages.
And so, you fit your lower holes together just right, and your two cages begin to thrash against each other again and again until you moan and groan and leak fluids all over the place.
At this point, you hope you’re connecting at the deepest level possible, but really, you can feel in your heart that all you’re doing is merging cages – that you’ve got nothing more than the old ‘two cages become one’ scenario. And that you’re still very much alone.
Unfortunately, most people never make it past this stage.
Exhausted, they unlatch cages, and go home confused.
Should I feel like I’ve found the holy grail? Why do I feel cheated, again!
Wise people, however, know that the true pilgrimage to the holy grail has just begun at the point where the two cages merge!
They know that only when two cages are hooked by all openings at once, are they finally able to search their inner jungles for the true original essence.
This is not a journey for the faint-hearted, though. It’s dangerous.
In this jungle, there are no decorations to make one’s agenda easier on the eye—no glossy brochures, no resumes, no 401k’s, no press releases. Just the reality of who you have become over the years in the search for being known and appreciated.
At this point, the caged people feel very nervous. They realize in preparing all their lives to be noticed, they have left their interior spaces in shambles.
In many cases, the insides of cages can resemble… haunted houses.
I’ve seen first-hand a person get scared to death in the bowels of my cage. He said, Oh my god, now I know the origin of a hell hole! And he dislodged, skid out my vestibule on his ass, and was never seen again.
After something like this happens, a person might feel apprehensive to allow another into their cage again. Naturally, they don’t want the same mortification to repeat itself, so they put up a bunch of yellow tape.
Oh, wait. Please, don’t look in there-- those are my suicidal tendencies… Oh wait, wait.. Don’t go in there, please, that’s where I keep my shame. Oh.. can you hold on just a minute...? I’m just gonna push that rage out of your way…
However, if each person perseveres, eventually, they will see a glimmer through the undergrowth. The glimmer of one’s true uncaged essence!
That ball of life which has been waiting to share it’s brilliance with another for oh so long!
When two essences finally merge, there is rejoicing.
I found you!
I found you!
Look how special you are!
Look how special you are!
Oh, this feels so perfect!
I wish it didn’t have to be so hard to get to! I know, but here we are! I’m so happy! Me too!
And you love this feeling.
And don’t want it to go away. Not ever.
But you can’t stay attached to each other’s cages forever. can you imagine trying to maneuver yourselves behind the steering wheel of a car attached by all your cage holes? What a spectacle!
But there must be a way to stay attached!
And so these poor humans, bless their desperate souls, come up with a splendid idea-- how ‘bout we get married!
Oh, what a wonderful idea!
And so they invite everyone they know to witness their promise to stay attached till death do they part.
but after the honeymoon, when they go home to their new cage together, their happily ever after is interrupted with a new problem---
They’re lonely again. And lonely with someone who promised to keep you company till death do you part? That’s even worse than being lonely when you’re alone!
And you hate to do it, but you ask your partner over coffee one day, um.. Why don’t you ever invite me into your cage anymore?
What are you talking about? We merge almost every night!
No we don’t! We merely slosh cages! We haven’t reached our true essence in months!
That’s not fair. We’re married now! I don’t need to invite you all the way in! Just come in if you want to come in!
Well, I don’t want to come inside unless I’m invited! It’s not as special that way.
Sure it is!
You’re not… inviting other people into your cage, are you..?
You don’t trust me?
Don’t be so defensive?
Hey, don’t you put your hell into my hole!
(gasp) You used to say you loved my hell hole!
And you realize your marriage was a sham.
We are nothing but two flesh cages sharing the same bed! you scream.
Stop complaining! Just be happy with the way things are, for Christ’s sake!
And you start protecting your cage again.
In fact, maybe it wasn’t a cage after all. Maybe it was just a refuge protecting you from the horribleness of other people!
What was I thinking—till death do I part?
And your life marches on. Instead of being depressed, you try to be mature about it. You go to a marriage counselor. someone who teaches you to start thinking of each other not as strangers, but like states of the same country - separate but equal. And you remind yourself of things like, Happiness is for idiots. It has no edge. It probably would have dumbed me right down into the ground for good. And you start to understand what your aunt used to tell you, how the best relationship to have is the one with your own self. And of course, if you can’t find yourself, there’s always God. And God feels pretty good sometimes. Hard to be disappointed by God, when you can make believe he’s always here. But even when you can’t feel God anymore, you can always go back to writing your memoir- and get out of your cage in a way that doesn’t cause so much damage.
And then one day, you get in your car, to go to the grocery store for some other substance that might keep your true self company, like a pizza, and while you’re on the way to the freezer section, you see a muscular young man on the floor unpacking boxes of ketchup- what regular people use to add spice to their otherwise bland incarcerated existences- and you purposely do not grab a bottle, but as you saunter by, the young man looks up at you, with these lovely blue eye holes, that say, Hey what are you doing later, wanna have a cocktail in my cage? And you smile. And he doesn’t quite smile back, but there’s something there. That you share. An excitement. A ‘God, if only things were different….’ But you know things can’t be different. And he probably knows it, too. So you part ways and the fantasy fizzles off, and floats down the abyss river junction.
—JLK