White 2

This room is still white... the pure,powerful mediterranean light is still there ... I have still not opened my eyes ...the reality of the room will simply confirm what I already know ...when I do... white, white and more white... and is there anything to say yet ? ... and what have I been doing while you were away watching my younger self?... if anything?

Who did you think was propelling him along and putting his thoughts and memories in place? ... projecting him? ... I was making myself for the day too ... constructing my self to do battle with the hours ... and who to make ... deciding who to be ... how to be ... it is a thing we all do mostly without knowing it but mine is a conscious making ... each day ... and potentially anew each day ... though I do that less now than I did ... same man today as yesterday ... mostly the same at the least ...

Each waking requires, for me, a construction of a self ... I rummage around in my memory store ... in there no one thing has more weight than any other ... no facet nor no  character trait would tip a scale in either direction ... I have a headful of them from which to choose ... accumulated along a long life ... some days some shine brightly like gems ... perhaps yesterday I overlooked them entirely ... perhaps yesterday they were mere briquettes for a barbecue ... that much I still don't know ... what lights them that is ... whatever the case, I shuffle them around and pick them over like rags in a second hand clothes shop ... until I have enough for a day's living ... sufficient unto a life or a simulacrum thereof...

But enough of that for now... I have to open my eyes soon ... I have visitors arriving today ... meantimes let me put my young self upon the screen of the page for you again ... follow him into the fog ... away from this brightness... this glare ....

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