But why do you ask? Are we not sufficiently like one another, for: understanding, respect…? If we are sufficiently alike, why is there any hate, wars? If each tomorrow is truly a new day, how can we relate at all; to one another or even to our past or future selves? Does each of us wander, alone and lonely, traipsing out the individual trajectories of our destiny, crossing paths only occasionally, with no true connections?
Destiny, Providence – did we begin alike? Are we all going in the same directions? Must we believe, accept a single story, in order to get wherever there is to go? Does it help to read the same story recite the same words, if we read – all differently? If we are all the same, if we all want the same thing, why is there trouble?
Perhaps, as some say, life masks. The experiences of living paint the surfaces of our souls, appearing distinct to others and to our selves; the patina becomes real. l How do we chip off that shell, how do we return to what we were…to be, what we supposed ourselves…to be?
Maybe we are damned. Damned merely by being. What can we do? Should we save? Ourselves; others? Whom do we have to destroy in order to save? Our selves; others?
How can we get past the myths of likeness and of unlikeness, to begin to talk, understand, respect others and our selves?