I’ve, lately, been trying to understand what it means to have team spirit. You probably think, seeing as I have myriad doppelgangers, I should know what it means to be part of a team. But, just because I’m one of a multitude of nearly identical molded plastic dolls doesn’t mean there’s team spirit involved.

Honestly, the concept mystifies me; there are sports teams made up of groups of fiercely competitive individuals that would vie against one another under normal circumstances, expected to cooperate in order to fulfill team goals. Where’s the personal expression in that, I’d like to know. Then, there are communist collectives where individuals pull together for the supposed betterment of all. That must require a sort of team spirit. I’ll bet if a field worker decided to take an afternoon off to write poetry it wouldn’t go down well with his colleagues. The uncertainty of life on the streets might encourage gang affiliations, I suppose, but it might very well draw you into other people’s conflicts which would clearly interfere with one’s contemplation time. And think about those in monasteries or convents that do have plenty of time to reflect but are certainly inhibited in any desire they may have to express themselves through fashionable clothing styles.

Well, I don’t see myself becoming a team player anytime soon. The only possibility of that as far as I can imagine is if I were assimilated into the Borg collective. I understand that, in that case, resistance is futile.