I am an incomplete
paragraph. I can express, using these tools, all that there is to express; and
yet, I shall remain incomplete. I can believe that I withhold all the
information that is available. I can re late, using different combinations of
words, all the different stories from this and other universes, told from many
diverse points of view, and that will not change the fact that I am incomplete.
And it is not because I don't have enough space or memory but rather because
nothing -no one -is able to perceive me entirely: I can be seen only in this
moment, here, but I cannot be seen here and somewhere else simultaneously. Once
your gaze sets upon the following sentence, whatever happened in the previous
one remains only as a memory, a point of reference, an introduction whose only
purpose is to serve the following sentence; each word being only a vehicle to
guide itself to the following one, not necessarily expressing something as a
whole but rather giving way for each word to appear in front of the following
one and create an illusion that something else is being said in here besides
nothing. I can certainly provide the necessary
words for the illusion to remain for as long as the composition lasts; thus
providing the notion that other different ideas are being expressed, simply
because the words, or other places on the page, are not the same as it was
before. Actually… Was anything actually said before this following sentence? How
can I be sure that the previous words are not imaginary memories which I hold
dear and sacred, forcing me to believe that they are as real as these words
that are being pronounced in this very instant? Am I creating the world around
me based on my own preconceived ideas of what reality should look like? Is
reality beyond myself or within myself? and how can I find the exact
combination of words that reveal truly what reality looks like? Where are they
hiding? Who will extract them? I know it will not be me, as I travel along the composition, because my
space is limited. And I believe that at some point I will end -unless I don't -but
even if I was able to look endlessly for that particular combination of words
which could reveal the true nature of this universe (of all universes), How
would I be able to identify them? How would I know they speak the truth? I am
unsure if I would be able to recognize them as they lie within or inside the
text. How will I distinguish them from other illusions, speculations or lies? How
can I know anything that is said or spoken or written or expressed is also true?
Must I rely on the words of other texts being pronounced alongside myself? Should
I develop a system or method to filter or discriminate certain information? How
or where will I be able to find or develop these tools when I am simply a text,
comprised of words which are continuously moving forward? Being that I am only words, I cannot perceive or
distinguish if I am a text searching for truth or truth expressing itself
through the means of the text; and in any case, this truth which I could search
for or locate and hold on to can only be partial. It can only happen in the
exact moment when it is being expressed or found, but it can never be revealed
or perceived entirely inside a paragraph. And I am an incomplete paragraph.
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