2001-08-24 - 12:32 p.m.

There is everything and nothing to speak and dream of. I, me, you, we, he, she, it. Language has given us these pronouns, these formulae for thought. I cannot imagine myself so I will inject into another these sparks, nascent and bewildering.

'Be away until you can see me as I really am'. That could be a lyric from a song, the chorus; a nearly-magisterial invention. More probably it could be classified as the subtext of a life.

It is said of humanity that we are sly and beguiling. We may be slight, and even the strong among us will be classified as from amongst the eternally weak.

But is it so? All physical considerations aside - are we weak? I would place myself among the misanthropists - but this my belief in our frailty is shaken by a lightning bolt - we all put up with so much.

Do we ever really understand anything? Do you know yourself? What is necessary for self-knowledge? Do we all only spend our lives justifying ourselves? If I will never understand myself, and others are even more distant - what is my saving grace? What is yours?

Do you spend your days gazing upon falsehood? You learn to recognise it - you familiarise yourself with words - farce, hyperbole, satire, surreality. It is a cornered animal but it never grows afraid.

I am wordless and can only grow solemn. Tell me what is real, only once.

troilus

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