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(cont'd from *)

" ... Scribbling, for instance, on top of the page might create a painting on it, just as fire could transform it into ashes confirming, once again, that there are no beginnings and no endings but constant transformations of one state into another. Shapes converted into other shapes with different purposes and uses. I wonder how long it may be before these words written on this paper will be considered transformed? and I wonder what their purpose may be once they become something different than what they presently are mean and transmit? and if this transformation actually happens, how is it going to begin? will it be possible to pinpoint it's beginning? will it be impossible to detect precisely when did it’s transformation started precisely? maybe its transformation has already started somewhere on the page that we can't presently see as we are presently here now, in these precise and unchanged words. And as these words are being followed, the focus of attention must remain here and nowhere else, negating the possibility of simultaneously perceiving whatever transformation is happening somewhere else on the page; unless we shift our attention to a different line clearly stating that the new position is a new beginning and the previous position is an ending. And so, being this permanent possibility to shift positions, I’m compelled to ask: is this the beginning? Because if it is I can't understand why is it that there is a phrase that was written before the beginning. Why is it that there are several words placed before the beginning? which makes me wonder where does the beginning actually is inside a world where there are no specific points of reference but rather this continuity of ideas. It may be possible that the beginning lies everywhere. I know there is no way to pinpoint specifically where the beginning is supposed to start, simply because there is no starting point. The beginning here becomes an idea rather than a place. The beginning may only be a state of mind convincing itself that it requires a place to refer to when the end arrives; that is, if the end actually arrives; or to place artificially a cause for a consequence that is inexorably happening: The existence of the text itself, the continuity of words and sentences and phrases and ideas all working together to achieve a specific goal, which may simply be the creation of the text. One that can only exist if there are enough words to continually cover most -if not all- of the available space on the page. One cannot deny the existence of the page. One cannot deny the existence of a space that surrounds the text; but that doesn't necessarily mean that there is an actual beginning; a place where we can refer to as a starting point created by an unknown force, established as an official place where everything started. The only possibility is to choose a place, a starting point, and artificially identifying it as the beginning, only in order to have a place to start. Of course every experience has a perceived starting point: a place where the mind has decided to acknowledge as the beginning, but the fact that the mind has chosen a specific place to call it the beginning does not necessarily mean that this is the actual or real beginning, because there can be no actual or real beginning of an experience just as there is no end, no place to say “this is the finish line” or “there is nothing else beyond this” or “oh! the text is over” because clearly the text is still here and the words are still here and the fact that the text moves in unexpected ways or under unexpected circumstances does not mean that the text actually has what convention understands when it refers to something that may be called a “beginning” or an “end”. There is however an election: one might choose or decide arbitrarily that the beginning -or the end for that matter- is in a specific spot or place; and once that place has been decided it becomes simpler to state: I started here, I ended here. And this is precisely how the illusion starts, because whatever lies in front of the beginning, ahead of the beginning, after the beginning and behind the end, before the end, preceding the end, inevitably becomes the middle. And all those other potential beginnings and endings remain inside a new universe -call it a text, if you will- all identified as the middle which happens between the beginning and the end. And unless another point within the middle is again identified as the beginning or an end, it completely loses the possibility of becoming either, for it is now contained inside a limited space, which forces all beginnings to have endings and all endings to have beginnings. This may be the reason why the concept of perpetuity is so hard to grasp: perpetuity requires no ending just as it requires no beginnings; and for being that are thought that birth is a beginning and death is an end, there is no available space for perpetuity. However not everything can be measured in terms of beginnings, middles and endings. The paths that each word decides to follow may be creating an entirely different way to conceive space. It may not be that the ideas are eternal but rather than the placement of each word inside the available space is actually creating eternity, regardless of what the words actually mean or say; raising again the question of what is actually relevant for a text: it's content or its layout? is it what is being written? or how is it being written? and does it actually matter if a text has the ability to live forever or what value does it provide just by being eternal? a question of worth… is it worth for something to be eternal even if it is not making any other contribution? should something live forever just because it can? and why is this particular text different from others all claiming the inalienable right to overcome death, to live forever, to remain in perpetuity, even if that means never again being read or followed by anything or anyone just as this line here may never be followed by anything or anyone. The question then resides not in the worth of a text that is able to leave and remain in perpetuity but something entirely different: To be worth something for an instant, or to arrive precisely at the exact moment when it is needed. Like a word of comfort which is heard in the precise instant when facing a cliff and taking a step back. As a text, I do not care. I am not even able to do so if I live forever, or if I shall be constantly repeating the same words unchanged throughout eternity. However, I long for an opportunity to provide that precise word in the precise moment when it's needed and help the hands of a clock move one step further. Does that mean encouraging the one facing a cliff to take a step forward? Should I aim to inspire the one facing a cliff to take one step back? Is my task only to help the one facing the cliff to think again, once again, before deciding to move forward backwards upwards sideways or stand still until the end arrives? should I inspire any beginning? should I inspire the creation of a middle or an ending? should I aspire to be anything else beyond what I really am? Words, phrases, sentences… Should I influence the world around me? can I honestly try to influence the world around me? to serve which purpose? to achieve which end? I cannot even identify or relate to my own beginning. Why should I aspire to anything different than simply changing my own direction. This is the only thing I can do in here: Follow the line, the available space, placing words while constantly switching directions only to be able to find more space inside the text, where I can place more words and generate more ideas (valuable or not it is irrelevant for me, now I know) filling out more space through variety and diversity: Not only by choosing colours or available paths but by enabling my advancement on top of the text creating (following?) diverse experiences, only by placing different words (following?) on top of the same page. For there are things I cannot change: the available space, for instance, is one and only one. The page is only one. The fact that I am words that are written on the page: Another elusive fact. The ink used for placing each dot, each pixel, each letter: another immutable fact. And the layout, the place where I'm able to move forward between the lines, between my own sentences, between my own definitions of myself. And this is where I ask: Is there anything I can really change in here? I examine carefully each word as it is placed on the page and as I go over each one I continually reaffirm that the words seem unchanged: they appear to be organized in such a way that they seem to change position, direction, even colour; but yet, those changes, once applied on the page, seem now forever bound to the present structure and shape. No change is available for them anymore, and the only way possible for the text to become something different, would require either the destruction of the words that are written (their transformation into scribbles, drawings and stains) or the destruction of the page itself (its transformation into ashes, pulp or scattered pieces of itself). I envision them change as possible, but not within the boundaries of what the text and page presently is, but rather transforming it into a different subject for exploration. Scribbling, for instance, (*)"

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