A cloud of life-images infuse me.
All the world is The Thinker.
Pantheisms in various shapes drift through my mind; they resemble one another but they differ in ways I cannot grasp.
I sense that I know where and how The Thinker wishes to flow. I am partly responsible for many of his outcomes, for I myself am part of The Thinker. He would prefer "this." He would detest "that.
I know simple arithmetic and love and hate. Any Einstein or Shakespeare would know far more. The Thinker aims to know everything, and so he will, after I have ceased.