Castle Door and Keyhole by Horia Varlan (flckr creative commons)
“I have filled 3 Mead notebooks trying to figure out whether it was Them or Just Me.” ~ David Foster Wallace
This is all that I can muster tonight, and trust me, it’s much better than my own words:
But it does have a knob, the door can open. But not in the way you think…The truth is you’ve already heard this. That this is what it’s like. That it’s what makes room for the universes inside you, all the endless inbent 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 you’re 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 it’s only a part. Who wouldn’t? It’s called free will, Sherlock. But at the same time it’s 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–it’s not English anymore, it’s not getting squeezed through any hole.
So cry all you want, I won’t tell anybody.” ~ David Foster Wallace