4556. I want to tell you about all that but his story is
somehow stuck here in his native village. His life has now become one of those
games of solitaire, where you did not finish, and there are no more moves.
4557. Why am I allowing this story to remain stuck in this
uninteresting place, unwilling to go on? I will tell you why. It is because it
is exactly what Coromo was feeling, and I want you to feel it also. I want you
to feel what it is like to have to make do with nothingness, when infinity bids
you enter, and awaits your coming.
4558. Like the person who contemplates a life sentence in a
cell of solitary confinement, will I be like Adolf Wolfli, you ask yourself, if
you are one of those people fortunate enough to know who he was?
4559. Will I fill my solitary life of isolation filling
large pieces of paper with intricate involved patterns that will astound the
world if there are ever seen? Or will I simply stare at a square foot of wall for
eternity, and every day marvel at some variation it presents to my eye that I
never noticed before.
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