white walls, white room, white faces

11 January 2003 - 21:12

<<--unravel * reintegrate-->>

a thought from a few months ago:

when a being tries to understand an inherently incomprehensible world, what happens? in that situation, all she can get closer to is herself, even if unwittingly.

i had a fantasy then that everything that happened between dave and me (or anyone and me) that made us think we understood each other, these incomprehensible worlds, was merely coincidental, merely seduced us into believing we weren't alone, that we weren't just looking in a mirror ALL THE TIME.

if this were more than a fantasy, i am only extending the charade by speaking of it, because the people reading this would see only themselves, not me, not my ideas. or would they? is it possible that the people who are reading this are the ones who are drawn to it because they have had, on some level, conscious or not, the same ideas, and what enters their minds, is their faithful but slightly distorted copy (i.e., interpretation)?

and if that seems too miraculous, would it still, if the truth were that we sync up so easily because we are not separate?

at that point, there is no such thing as incomprehensible worlds in an incomprehensible world; there is simply one thing looking at itself, changing itself through the attempt to observe, observing once more. incomprehensibility replaced by infinity. completion always delayed.

<<--unravel * reintegrate-->>