Intense heat on Harris Creek this morning. I am sitting here again, looking out this same window again, and tapping out these words again, and wondering what I will read and write. Reading and writing are one and the same process; the world outside is incorporated by the reader, simultaneously, as the inside world is projected by the writer. The reader/writer is emodied in metaphor, in the process of inappropriate substitutions; "Thou art that."

The reader/writer is not located in the physical body nor in the text, but rather arises from the relationship between two different meanings. The perceptual body and the written text are the hardware, the reader and the narrative are software. The cyborg is an abstract representation of a metaphor. The reader/writer is nothing but the process of reading/writing words. But metaphor does not evolve from mathematics; it is a point of origin; metaphor is present from the beginning.

My experience is always meaningful; food is not the only thing I eat. Metaphor defies reality, it crosses a border which, in reality, is inviolate; in reality, "Thou are precisely not that." Metaphor is magic.