Lost in a labyrinth, you should take the same turn every time if you want to escape. The same turn, that's what I've always taken, W. says. The wrong turn. Every time! How have I managed to get it so wrong? Is it an instinct? Is it the opposite of an instinct?
And now I'm taking him with me. Why does he follow me?, W. wonders. It's not as if he has no choice. He chooses to follow me, that's the thing. It's his choice – or is it? Is it an instinct? Is it the opposite of an instinct?
Either way, we'll remain in the labyrinth, the pair of us. We'll stay there, getting more and more lost, lost until we've forgotten we're in a labyrinth. It's becoming our world, says W. Our whole world, and isn't that his horror?
He's like an actor who's forgotten he's acting. A secret agent in the deepest of cover. He doesn't know who he is anymore. A denizen of Larsworld, that's it, isn't it? Another of my nutters and weirdoes …
Lars Iyer's Blog 