The limit of error

‘I owe you my life, the life you close down. My freedom, my enemy. You draw me away from the throttling world. Into what? I glimpse you as the world draws me back. I fall further, into the hole, almost beneath language. Who’ll pull me out? You can’t be commanded, I lie in wait for you, for the word that guides or seduces, that pulls other words with it. The word comes, conjures up others, they pull me up and push me down. I’ve fallen into some kind of error, hole or not, and now only you, my error, can open me up. Into what? Into the outside, towards the limit of error.’

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