ABSTRACT
Beware of those who speak of the spiral of history; they are preparing a boomerang. Keep a steel helmet handy. I have been boomeranged across my head so much that I now see the darkness of lightness. And I love light. Perhaps you’ll think it strange that an invisible man should need light, desire light, love light. But maybe it is exactly because I am invisible. Light confirms my reality, gives birth to my form . . . Without light I am not only invisible, but formless as well: and to be unaware of one’s form is to live a death. I myself, after existing some twenty years, did not become alive until I discovered my invisibility . . .
