. . . the perfectability of human beings.

Whahavya been smoking

You do not believe in the project?

The project everything sought to define itself as a project now of perfection No  How do you think that can be achieved

Without secrets from one another, without the orient of knowledge infiltrating, dictatin . .

. . Lemme guess

Guess?

Soitenly he felt very Three Stoogeish yes soitenly  Then we can realise our full potential

Yes, exactly.

              If we were fully transparen . .

. . NO Ya kiddin me

If we interacted with each other hones . .

. . Honestly

            Wed hurt each others feelings I hurt others feelingsdon pull punches for that I am avoided

                                                                                                            Which it is kinda perfect for me  but I don imagine thats the perfectability yare referring to

No, no, I’m not; begin with secrets as I mentioned . . secrets are lies. that was breathtaking  The orient of knowledge steps between us, separates us.

As it should

No, if we were more transparent . .

. . Thats a mindfuck

                     he sighed did he sigh Not everyone is as capable nothing can change thatwe can ofcourse strive to improve our societal circumstances help make a more level playing field however transparency implies an invasion of privacy we could not be anonymous in your perception I believe anonymity is a right I cannot invoke it if I accuse someonethey have a right to know who I am  but otherwise no

So you would throw your hands up and call the project impossible?

Perfection is impossible

                         Human perfection please  We struggle with right an wrong truth an lies fact an fiction

1929,  Day-between-TwoTs,  10  11. 21

1134,  Monday,  15  11. 21

he was grateful when he went into his mouth and pulled things out that didnt belong there

how they got there was beyond him

he didnt recognise them

some were hard

some were soft

              and hardened on paper to his left that he scribbled on to remember things he thought were worth remembering worth recording to fashion into something that he had no idea they would become like a thump of wet clay to turn on a wheel molten glass blown  like a boy facing a beating or running off

                                                                                            maybe he hadnt sense to run

he looked inside himself like he looked at what came out his mouth and not recognising it it made no sense to run off he also saw that that unnerved others he didnt make sense to them

it was then that he realised he was perverse

                                              his sympathetic nervous system fight or flight didnt hold sway with him

seemed there was fight and fight 

what might come out on the other side could be gruesome if someone cared

he didnt

he didnt press or pursue issues

however when laid at his feetwhen provoked

he stood

he wasnt going nowhere 

make a bed

sleep in it

                       this was one of those things that began on paper left of his hand

0007,  Monday,  15  11. 21

1037,  Monday,  15  11. 21