One idea on seeing how the questions that arise over the act of interpretation call upon further interpretations is of circuits of interpretation without end. The perceivables and conceivables that seem to exhaust the furniture of your world are results of the elusive act of interpretation, which doesn't hold still so as to be itself perceivable or conceivable. Instead you gesture towards a certain deflection, or evasion, too feminine for metaphysics. You draw a wealth of play in this line against the master until long after, when it becomes clear that it is fool's gold and you are the fool trading one master for another. Consider instead refraining from all interpretation; each act is a little window, a transparency, a flush of light, a puncture. And without looking through it, perfectly relaxed, simply see what is on the other side.