Every reader, as he reads, is actually the reader of himself. The writer’s work is only a kind of optical instrument he provides the reader so he can discern what he might never have seen in himself without this book. The reader's recognition of what the book says is proof of the book's truth.
PROLEGOMENON:
Your answers — anyone's answers — may become for another reader just such an ātmanopticon: that optical lens-like perspective someone composes that another reader, without having read it, may not ever have recognized that quality or trait within himself.
A practice/sādhana: the questions invite unguarded, thoughtful states of introspection. Time to time the answer astonishes in what it describes--an interior (அகம்) — a subject, the grammatical I, that which remains, a formulation of truth.
Return, after some time and a species of amnesia, to respond again. The earlier answers belong to someone else; the one answering now is provisional too.
The questionnaire keeps a record — subject as excavated persons in succession, bearing one name: I.
Find who sleeps.
That is what this instrument is for.
a gate:
Here we meet @ a gate:
What follow are not polite questions. They are holes in the ice. Answer honestly and something cold touches the feet.
