All you can say is that the appearance is of someone experiencing something and someone wondering what this is - this appearance, this experience, this someone - and how it is possible for such a thing to come about and be known as such. To think this way is the result of an exercise in detachment, of a skill that has been cultivated, and there is a corresponding identity and satisfaction associated with it, and a dialectic of differing from and then being reassumed by this identity - which is just what any identity is. The identity is a quest for something, not truth exactly since you would need a criterion of truth for that and also to know the truth of the criterion etc., but of as much lessening of error as is compatible with an identity like this one, which likes to live dangerously, or at least says it does. There is real curiosity, however, but still the work drives into impasse after impasse, which only create a certain exhilaration and further opportunities for refining itself. In recoiling from momentary frustration you catch a tiny glimpse of yourself and you look so strange, so unlikely, that for a moment, the identity having lost its dynamism and beginning to melt away, you are almost free.