What could you write about.
Your family.
Your children.
Your childhood.
Your work.
Your friendships.
Your experiences.
Your journeys.
Your reflections.
How others feel.
How you feel about yourself.

About philosophy.
Are you philosophical?
What does the biographer bring to the life of another but their own life.
What does the autobiography bring
to the telling of one life but a favoured story.

We are like a world within and of our self.
In our own minds. With boundless imaginations.
Though we often feel fenced in,
limited by how far we see,
not how freely we can think.

And we exist within the worlds of others.
We are real to touch, personalities of force
or indifference.
And, we are part of the imaginings
and memories of others.
We whisper in their ears
when we are no longer there.
We are actors in their reruns
played out in three, four or five dimensions.
Recast alongside mythic recreations of heroic selves
as part of their dreams.

I think I know you.
You think you know me.
But which you do I know.

We live in real worlds, in present tense.
And, we live in private worlds
made up of recollection.
This day we seek to change the way we are,
with fresh insight, the latest information.
But, yesterday's bear our experiences,
our worlds are projected into the present
through archives of tacit knowledge.

Our lives are already inhabited by what we knows,
how we knows and who we knows.
You think you know me,
But which me do you know.


© Shaun Greggs, 2004 (all rights reserved)