Abstract
TIA 1
Getting up unsteady, the me in the mirror is not the me who keeps my memories, but one who wears my face askance not altogether familiar though reminiscent, as though I ought to know it but simply for some time forgot as though a simulacrum stood in front of me, me? looking into those eyes I seem never to have seen. The slate’s clean: how to begin again, how regain, claim family, friends, where this room, what the city, people I can call my own, anyone I can call for help? This shadow occupies my self. Look deep into the eyes: they have seen where my life has gone.
TIA 2: Brain storm
Dizzying inter- ruption of blood cir- culation/sight in circles, revolving, every thing doubled, I’m one plus one in the mirror, one of me is no one but an idea of who I am, what is my bio- illogicality telling me: that what I see is true, that I am truly two? ‘sblood! it’s sabotaging the soft grey matter in which the ‘I’ I know is, or I think is, perhaps this other wavering image floating across my sight’s sky is the ectoplasmic idea of me that matters in the final scheme. Ischaemic waves carry me down to wavering earth just beyond self’s simulacrum created in whose image? Must not lose my self along the way, what does my brain know that I don’t? * Outside, sky’s whorly grey cloud convolutions arrayed: the overarching Brain.