There is no being of beings apart from your own being, everything else is more or less an act of faith. If you travel to another city nothing has changed but that everyone you meet or pass in the street believes themselves to belong to this other centre. It is strange how different this can feel, some places are so thinly imagined that they are barely there, others so thickly that they become almost oppressive with their presumption of independently existence, their deference to an unreal history. Your own being doesn't show itself, it bears no marks, it is weightlessness itself. You can't fly from this forever.