And this is perhaps the most shocking realization of the modern human: that his skin and his sentience are not the taut boundaries that separate him from the brute; that the estranged ‘other’, the diseased infidel, and the foreigner are the condition that makes his own existence possible; and that when he peers into his own soul, it is not a full stop, a decimal place or an exclamation mark he finds, but an intriguing ellipsis attached to a queer sentence that is always changing. Always transitory.
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