to crypt, syllable
by syllable, only
a makeshift
self is constructed—
a papier mâché in which
similar sounds
are bound
with the starch
of incessant
repetition
to create,
not a man
or a principle
or a brand, but
the one thing
which no one can
ever agree on:
the heart
of an in-
comprehensible story—
the "obvious"
meaning
in a true work
of art.
