FUGACE

X-ray something, a box kind of and suddenly what lies or lives within it's confines starts looking at or into you, inducing a nakedness feeling now very rarely triggered;

For all have learned the socially accepted behavioral blindness with which, upon rising from a night's slumber, one immediately dives under for a day of numbness within the walls of this fortress which hold all those risers upright for a day of toils, exertions towards a never to come success;

Within each box sits the gambler, never in need of a casino or a touristic event to regain a feel of aliveness, open to gain whatever could be picked up, out here, there;

Pandora's box it is for it always holds the Graal, the secret flame, the eternal requirement of an addiction in order to glide through each day's social trappings clothing each social iteration;

Curious, addicted to intuition, feel the necessity, start digging through all those social moralities spread around as empty shells upon one's own beach of life.