There is nothing outside of experience and yet what is experiencing cannot be experienced. You know that it's you in every case, under every state, but how can you know that? And that you know nothing else? Experience is reference, is always about whatever it is about, but what refers cannot be referred to, it has nothing in common with with anything that can in any way be referred to. It is necessarily out of experience, and you know it is you with unembraceable particularity. The only way it can appear is as the totality of experience, but it has no need to appear; experience is contingency and contingency can only be so because there is necessity. So it's tone has got to be that of a joke, as in the sheer ludicrousness of self-reference, as if that could ever be a clue. And see how they run. It refers, you refer, you can never be referred to. And how do you know it is you? How? It's not the kind of thing that can be experienced, it has no meaning, no shape, is not light or dark, sweet or bitter, soft or loud, painful or pleasurable. You want to say that it is too concrete, too particular, is itself to an unimaginable degree and so impossible to objectify in any way. There can be nothing next to it, nothing that knows it, but still by the very appearance of appearance you know that you are you. Completely out of reach, you can only laugh.