Everything is transmitted through this lens of the self, everything but the self. Its condition is indigence, what it wants is what can never be had, itself as other, other as itself, itself as world, world as itself, complete reconciliation and solace. The heart cries out to the head which can do nothing for it and in its frustration the spleen awakens, stretches, yawns and opens its gleeful eye. Everything is a return, solace and spleen, to childhood and beyond, those strange yearnings that seem so precious and so stupid, so personal as to be the very dignity of the person and so common as to be the song rattling in everyone's head. And you go through the dance once more with feeling, yielding to desire, denying desire, start with a hand and soon you're putting your whole self in, your whole self out.