A Prologue

Once upon a time we thought we had an agreed upon world of words.  a belief that thinking could be captured in print, carried in a hand, bound & covered, shared.

 

that ways of perceiving were held within those covers,those shelves of books where, at a glance, an other might tell what sort of human you were.

My transient, dissolving self, made tangible, solidly present, somehow, in all those spines.

Those shelves evidence of thinking, and therefore, being.

 

 

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