‘You’ and 'i' are more made up than 'us'. The [problem, confusion, difficulty, awkwardness] is sometimes (often?) that 'us' has been co-opted by capitalistic (attaching, accumulative, fear-based...) interests and transformed into an 'us' that should 'mean something' (romantic, sexual, familial, intimate, ...?) instead of being the way we are without any aid (or push) from outside forces.
As we are of the world, the world is of us. Matter interacts with matter...we co-create (as) matter. Anesthetizing the Truth in Us is a force external interests (to Humankind) wield to keep Us from seeing how everything is magnificently interconnected and interdependent. I am not willing to participate in being distracted by the minutia of groupthink, social engineering, and the plethora of mythology fabricated for the benefit of destructive systems that endanger Our personal and communal sovereignty.
You say 'us' "feels somehow made up." I think it might be because our collective / cultural / social / interpersonal 'us' has been diluted. It is normal that it then feels made up, since it is not practiced. I intend to practice Us to make sure we (not the false singular (‘I’, me), but the true singular (‘us’, you and me in communion), and the collective (‘Us’, you and me and everyone else in communion)) keep remembering the Truth in Us.
‘Ubuntu’ is the notion that I am through you, or because of you. That we need each other, but I think even more existentially framed—that we only exist, that we only are, because of each other.
I understand now that boundaries between noise and sound are conventions. All boundaries are conventions, waiting to be transcended. One may transcend any convention if only one can first conceive of doing so. Moments like this, I can feel your heart beating as clearly as I feel my own, and I know that separation is an illusion. My life extends far beyond the limitations of me.
Art and morality are, with certain provisos…one. Their essence is the same. The essence of both of them is love. Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real. Love, and so art and morals, is the discovery of reality.
At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by great feelings of love.
That state of dissatisfaction is characteristic of the conditioned world, which, by its very nature, can only bring ephemeral satisfactions. [...] negative emotions, in turn, arise from the notion of a self, a ‘me’ that we cherish and want to protect at all costs. Attachment to the self is a fact, but the self that is the object of that attachment has no true existence; it exists nowhere and in no way as an autonomous and permanent entity. [...] Not to unmask the imposture of the self is ignorance, the momentary inability to recognize the true nature of things. It’s that ignorance, therefore, that is the ultimate cause of suffering. Once we manage to get rid of our erroneous understanding of the self and our belief in the true and solid existence of phenomena, once we recognize that this ‘I’ doesn’t really exist, there’s no more reason to be afraid of not getting what we want or being subjected to what we don’t want.