I am coming back to life but am not sure what my (personal) life means. All these books around me want to bring me into their shape but I will not conform myself to their molding. Other people also have expectations, mostly subtle in nature yet still quite obvious. Somehow I am expected to be an extension of their world. Whoever reads this will no doubt try to do the same. It is a human characteristic. Some want to do that judgment thing called diagnosis (die-a-gnosis. killing through not knowing). I resist them as I do the moldingness of books. My life is open and free now. I have gone through a death and am being reborn. I do not wish the forceps of anyone to clamp on my head and in their well-meaning missionary-like efforts drag me kicking and screaming into their world. I am free now of human artifice. My way is open and unknown. Quite satisfactory.
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