Question
It is wonderful.
I ask a question full of hope and childish expectations, like a child
waiting for someone to show a little affection, prove that they exist, show that they are loved, in a way.
It is the child asking the question.
As soon as this question "leaves" for virtual space, the adult comes onstage:
as a conscientious professional in systematically complicating everything at every opportunity,
he takes the question and twists it a hundred, a thousand times, dissects it, observes it from every angle, analyzes it, squeezes out its juice,
then constructs an infinity of hypotheses about its origin.
Only to invariably discover that the answer is everywhere, here, now, everywhere.
Then the child reappears, guilty and anxious, ashamed of having bothered anyone,
trying to apologize for existing so badly by sending another email afterward, like this one.
While again secretly hoping to be reassured by a friendly answer...
There you have it: welcome to my ego.
It looks like a bad TV game show.
But it is wonderful all the same.
And thank you all the same for the existence of this fertile virtual space
that got me hooked.
See you.
Frédéric
Answer from Master Kosen
Kosen