Being everyone to everybody, a pauline dictum, seems wrong. Carries you to "nicities", tensions, the stress of that smile in Chirac, the anger after an appropiate but not a true answer.
But who am I to react? The struggle to unify the social and the personal being seems urgent, more urgent in this creative, bombarded age. I will survive. The I will survive. Will change, but will survive. The trouble is finding the I, of keeping that stomach feeling in spite of the great stress of change, of varied intercourses, of the race behind the question "Did you know?".
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