What is the Other that has not been discovered but is concealed, disguised as the Same? What is the Other that died when I died and who is reborn when I am reborn? That inhabits me, that arrived first, that is infinite and will stay when I leave?

The Other is that which flies either way, and writhes and melts in pleasure. That which looks at the same reality with many eyes, and rekindles the joys of childhood; that catches love, that seizes ideas. That which is a product of memory.

The Other, that reminds me that I don't have to be the Same.