“Our lives exist on the constant movement of atoms and subatomic particles. And our thoughts are trapped within the structures of language. I’m baffled both by the profundity of the former and the limitations of the latter. And the distance between them makes me feel sick every time I think about it. To a certain extent, everybody in my life, the ones I deeply love, and the ones I pass on the street, is the same. We are objects in this universe, confined by our epistemological limits. We brush against each other for an exceedingly short moment and drift apart. We will never be able to understand ourselves, let alone each other.”
Yan Ge, “No Time To Write” from Elsewhere