Somewhere, sometime, someone turned the light on us. To my mind, it all began with Freud, with his glaring assertions that he could look inside me and tell me who I am. And then came the obsession with everyone, everywhere, telling everybody else everything there was to know about them. When I was three, I tripped over a tree root in the forest and got a bloody nose. And so on. It came, I think, from the belief that things known,...
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