Chemin be this?
Have I seen all this before? Or have I only thought this before? Looking at anything is dependant on some prior knowledge. Otherwise it is not in focus, has no prospective. These shapes would mean nothing. Who am I? This is as deep a question as it is possible to ask one self? My feelings of loathing or loving are only mine. They are not anything beyond. Hearing a voice. It means nothing unless in give it my attention and some "meaning". This means I really have a choice. It's always a choice. I think I finally understand. This voice inside. The one dictating to the page. Hello. Who is in control of that hello? Why do I need a word of greeting to me? Beyond my simple self I am sure I need no words. Words are abstract labels. I think that's the correct term. That chair is not simply a chair. At it's core it is mostly empty space. Physics holds it as seeming substantial matter. And this physical world seems so inescapably real. But only from my limited knowledge...