I've lived in some communes in some way, more like remote villages in the middle of nowhere in third world countries though, not your usual definition but still pretty much the same thing. And those were some of the nicest places I've lived in.
I can't stand those large societies crumbling under the weight of millions. I can't bear the thought that my work on some aspect of society whose end result I don't get to witness somehow awards me this thing called "money", which makes me elligible to live in a house built by god knows who, drink water brought thanks to the work of people I'll never know, and eat tomatoes grown by some unknown. I came to believe that any society where money rules and has replaced basic human exchanges, has too much abstraction between roles and too much distance between people for me to enjoy living here.
Those small communities were so much better in comparison. Because they are small. Because I could see the direct result of my work, and not only benefit from it, but see the smiles on the faces of those who are thankful for it, as I was thankful for their own work and get to thank them each day. The singlest task felt like the most fulfilling one, which is only obvious when you get to care about every single person you live with, and never had I been that much hardworking.
I came to realize that people who can't stand living in communities are the greatest parasites there can be, which is why they'd rather dwell in societies large enough so they can hide within, where they can conceal their selfishness behind the veil of personal merit, because they are unable to quantify their own needs which leads them to always want more. Because the paradox of modern societies is that they aren't societies anymore; they can't be when their people benefit on each other's losses and don't share their greatest wealth.
>>183166>The commune breaks everyoneThe "world", in a book about the inevitability of the course of the world, not communes.
