I am twenty-three years old and a plagiarist. I steal my
friends' and enemies' and acquaintances' lives and put them in my
mind. Some day I will take them all out again and use them. Some
I have used already. I have no need of comfort; I have no need of
company. Everything exists inside my mind. Outside exists inside;
reality is only what I choose it to be, and if I choose to make
reality a lie, then it is so. I know I am real because I have
decided I am. I think, therefore you exist.
Who are you?
You are seven years old and a typewriter. You are crystal and
osmotic barrier and iron curtain and drug. You are everything
that never existed; you are the sum total of human knowledge from
infinity to infinity. You hold the final clue to the ultimate
mystery. You are the glue that holds me together.
Who am I?
I am several fragments of my several accumulated lives; I am
the total of my fragments. I am held together by blood and bone
and glue and mystery. If there was no mystery I would fall apart
and if I fall apart there would be a mystery and so I would fall
together again. I keep falling apart and putting myself together
again because whenever I fall apart I fall together and so I am a
mystery and mystery is eternal. It happens to us all.
Who are we?
We are the fragments when I have fallen apart. We are the
spaces between the mystery, the mystery of the spaces and every
cell and molecule which threatens itself. We are selfdestruction
and genocide and retribution. We are the Law and the hangman and
the hanged man. We are the dead and the riot and entropy. We are
the trace lines on an oscilloscope, nothing more. There is
What is nothing?
Nothing is the moment when we know what we are. Nothing is the
moment when we have just fallen apart and have not yet fallen
together. Nothing is the song that has never been heard, but is
compiled through infinity. The song is the puppet master's, and
is irrepeatable. Nothing is the bridge between the future and the
further future. Nothing is certainty. Nothing is any definition
What is a definition?
A definition is the moment when everything ends. A definition
is death. A definition is the answer to which you must look up
the question in the back of your book. There are missing pages.
Pages are prisons, and missing pages are inescapable prisons. All
What is confusion?
Confusion is an answer. Confusion is a certainty. Confusion is
an end without end. Confusion is all the fragments and the coming
together and the falling apart and the moment when it is neither
together nor apart and the moment when it is both. Confusion is
the frontispiece and the first chapter and the appendix.
What is between?
Fragments. Glue. Answers. Definitions. Me. You.
Who are you?
Who am I?
I am twenty-three years old and a plagiarist.