Would you please validate my feelings; yes, stamp right here; yes, thank you.

My friend
Kahlil Gibran

My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear—a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence.

The “I” in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.

I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do—for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action.

When thou sayest, “The wind bloweth eastward,” I say, “Aye, it doth blow eastward”; for I would not have thee know that my mind doth not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea.

Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone.

When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not hear the songs of my darkness nor see my wings beating against the stars—and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone.

When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell—even then thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, “My companion, my comrade,” and I call back to thee, “My comrade, my companion”—for I would not have thee see my Hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight and the smoke would crowd thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too well to have thee visit it. I would be in Hell alone.

Thou lovest Truth and Beauty and Righteousness; and I for thy sake say it is well and seemly to love these things. But in my heart I laugh at thy love. Yet I would not have thee see my laughter. I would laugh alone.

My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect—and I, too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone.

My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand in hand.

There, most probably, will come a time, when I shall light myself on fire. If that scares you, then I will understand if you would rather not be present. But, if you decide to stay, then please don’t attempt to put it out; just grab a blanket and something to barbecue.

This morning marked the survival of some of “my” constituent cells for three deca-Earth’s-orbital-cycles-around-the-Sun. Only a few cells have subsisted for more, while most have existed for less.

So what’s the big deal, you ask? Good question; not much for now… No deep reflections of the present… No genuine regrets of the past… And no serious considerations of the future… Nothing! (I must say; your timing is very arbitrary anyway…)

And I’ve developed some scar-tissue… and some memories of good fortune, physically manifested as electric charge… so what? What if I shed them all; in a process of rejuvination? What would remain of “me”? Who would “I” be? Some surviving cells in a cerebral cortex? And when “I” look in the mirror, what do “I” see? The same crisis you think you see? How shallow, and how vain.

Hand “me” a cigarette and a drink, and let “me” go out on the balcony to be by “myself” for now.

Later, however, I shall be listening repeatedly to surat al-raa’d [Quran 13:*] — savoring
سَوَاء مِّنكُم مَّنْ أَسَرَّ الْقَوْلَ وَمَن جَهَرَ بِهِ وَمَنْ هُوَ مُسْتَخْفٍ بِاللَّيْلِ وَسَارِبٌ بِالنَّهَارِ#
لَهُ مُعَقِّبَاتٌ مِّن بَيْنِ يَدَيْهِ وَمِنْ خَلْفِهِ يَحْفَظُونَهُ مِنْ أَمْرِ اللّهِ إِنَّ اللّهَ لاَ يُغَيِّرُ مَا بِقَوْمٍ حَتَّى يُغَيِّرُواْ مَا بِأَنْفُسِهِمْ وَإِذَا أَرَادَ اللّهُ بِقَوْمٍ سُوءًا فَلاَ مَرَدَّ لَهُ وَمَا لَهُم مِّن دُونِهِ مِن وَالٍ
[Quran 13:10-11] —
for, after all, it is in it that it is set that [Quran 13:28] أَلاَ بِذِكْرِ اللّهِ تَطْمَئِنُّ الْقُلُوبُ

As for you; take what you take of this, leave what you leave of it, and leave what you leave on it.

أَنزَلَ مِنَ السَّمَاء مَاء فَسَالَتْ أَوْدِيَةٌ بِقَدَرِهَا فَاحْتَمَلَ السَّيْلُ زَبَدًا رَّابِيًا وَمِمَّا يُوقِدُونَ عَلَيْهِ فِي النَّارِ ابْتِغَاء حِلْيَةٍ أَوْ مَتَاعٍ زَبَدٌ مِّثْلُهُ كَذَلِكَ يَضْرِبُ اللّهُ الْحَقَّ وَالْبَاطِلَ فَأَمَّا الزَّبَدُ فَيَذْهَبُ جُفَاء وَأَمَّا مَا يَنفَعُ النَّاسَ فَيَمْكُثُ فِي الأَرْضِ كَذَلِكَ يَضْرِبُ اللّهُ الأَمْثَالَ
[Quran 13:17]