The Bird Is Gone, And In What

We Are In A Maze Which We Built, And Then We Fell Into, Now Can't Get Out. To Make The Game Into Something Real, Something More Than Merely An Intellectual Exercise, We Elected To Lose Our Exceptional Faculties, To Reduce Us An Entire Level. This Unfortunately, Includes A Loss Of Memory.

Why Does A Man Cry? He Wondered. Not Like A Woman; Not For That. Not For Sentiment. A Man Cries Over The Loss Of Something, Something Alive. A Man Can Cry Over A Sick Animal That He Knows Won't Make It. The Death Of A Child: A Man Can Cry For That. But Not Because Things Are Sad. A Man, He Thought, Cries Not For The Future Or The Past But For The Present.

If The Last To Know He’s An Addict Is The Addict, Then Maybe The Last To Know When A Man Means What He Says Is The Man Himself, He Reflected.

Can We Consider The Universe Real, And If So, In What Way?

Maybe Each Human Being Lives In A Unique World, A Private World, A World Different From Those Inhabited And Experienced By All Other Humans.