Aardvark

The dictionary has always been my favorite genre. I confess I don't own one; what I am enamored of is the idea of it. It is comforting to imagine that all our words come from one undying mouth. That there is nothing original in us, and hence less responsibility for us to bear. As for the variety of our derivations, all of that is contained in the finical rules of grammar. That which is not grammatical is madness merely. Or nonsense, something which doesn't deserve a name...

But we must turn away, away, from those ellipses, signs of nothing. All things in language and in the world are comfortably ensconced within a dictionary. It is most vast, most wise.

Yet being, that guilty riddle, remains outside; wishes to enter also, but it's alive...