The Fact of Blackness

I came into the world imbued with the will to find a meaning in things, my spirit
filled with the desire to attain to the source of the world, and then I found that I was
an object in the midst of other objects.
Sealed into that crushing objecthood, I turned beseechingly to others. Their attention
was a liberation, running over my body suddenly abraded into nonbeing, endowing me
once more with an agility that I had thought lost, and by taking me out of the world,
restoring me to it. But just as I reached the other side, I stumbled, and the movements,
the attitudes, the glances of the other fixed me there, in the sense in which a chemical
solution is fixed by a dye. I was indignant; I demanded an explanation. Nothing happened. I burst apart. Now the fragments have been put together again by another self