“The truth is you already know what its like. You already know the difference between the size and speed of everything that flashes through you and the tiny inadequate bit of it all you can ever let anyone know. As though inside you is this enormous room full of what seems like everything in the whole universe at one time or another, and yet the only parts that get out have to somehow squeeze out through one of those tiny keyholes you see under the knob in older doors. As if we are all trying to see each other through these tiny keyholes. But it does have a knob, the door can open. But not in the way you think. The truth is youve already heard this. That this is what its like. That its what makes room for the universes inside you, all the endless in-bent fractals of connection and symphonies of different voices, the infinities you can never show another soul. And you think it makes you a fraud, the tiny fraction anyone else ever sees? Of course youre a fraud, of course what people see is never you. And of course you know this, and of course you try to manage what part they see if you know its only a part. Who wouldnt? Its called free will, Sherlock. But at the same time its why it feels so good to break down and cry in front of others, or to laugh, or speak in tongues, or chant in Bengali--its not English anymore, its not getting squeezed through any hole. So cry all you want, I wont tell anybody.” DFW
Posted on: Mon, 04 Nov 2013 12:53:51 +0000
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