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VII. Alone (at last)

And when I say alone, what I mean is, he toiled alone and in the dark.
Not easily explained or understood.
The words of the wise and their dark sayings.
Widespread ignorance,
lack of progress.
As, we are all in the dark concerning his plans.
As, plans hatched in the dark.
As, darks and lights are both necessary.
As, water is necessary to life.
That which must be done.
Labor.
Toil.
Drudgery.

Below these watery pastures lie the answers to all things, which we can only gaze upon and wonder at their unsteady reflection. The image that I see beneath is the moody moving image of my state of being. And all these words which flow and stream are but a feeble attempt to put a label on a feeling. To transform a feeling into an idea into a word into a memory into something I can recall at a later date and say ‘Oh yes, remember when and how it was and doesn’t it feel so nice that it all goes on and on and that it all isn’t meaningless?’ Because I have assigned a word and a meaning to every thing. And each experience has its category and each memory is in its cabinet and my life can be written down in a series of anecdotes and occurrences which will make men smile and frown and laugh and cry and I live and I die in an entirely rational manner.

I shall proceed to my logical conclusion.