What challenges you more than telling
the whole and absolute truth? Can
you release yourself from the bounds of
fiction, from that affected dress of distinction,
from the tattoos, the hand-made shoes?
Who were you before you became You?
Anything? – say an innocuous low-level virus
breathed with languor into the concourse,
the simulacrum, the conception of being –
that feeling where Who-It-Is matters…?
If you have found where the truth is you
are free to choose. Else-wise you are the
shadow of your own doubt; get thee
threepence, the best prize without a
second guess at who came second.
© 2007-02-16, I.D. Carswell
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