attempting to read the day’s papers, his snores
betraying his eventual failure; glimpses of the elderly
woman sneakily extracting from her handbag a brown
paper cup bearing the logo of the fast food joint she
was in, heading straight for the coffee refill counter.
Each singular glimpse an image derived from the life of
others. You claimed, after my spiel about films and
photos and rocks and roads, that the cumulation of all
these glimpses formed a good enough representation
– nay, an exact representation should one have
denumerable glimpses – of the thing being
represented.
---
How queer was it when you asked me about the
puppy. Did you not get that my answer doesn’t matter?
It doesn’t matter to the puppy. It doesn’t matter
because the puppy doesn’t get to choose. It doesn’t
matter because what it wants is what it wants, not
what I prefer. Its fate at the arbitrary behest of my
actions makes it powerless. You shouldn’t ask me what
I prefer: you should ask the puppy – how can I
endeavour to read its mind, to decide for it its longing?
---
You forgot an actuality. One either goes mad or
issue
issue 01
01 | zaw
| Chen
lin Yi
htoo
An