I am heavily assured that to be able to understand a person as a whole, the sole requirement will be to be patient in waiting for that person’s death. This is because a person—regardless of the individual—is not much but an unfinished project. Destined as a human being means being involved in ‘becoming’ process, being involved in an always unique social locus, forming an episode that is always intriguing to be told every single day. But, instead of becoming a novel story that is written by its author, human is the novel and the author per se, being integrated as an entity that has prerogative rights on the plot.
Yesterday and today one might have a formidable reputation, but tomorrow one could be heavily despised. Being respected and despised are both implications of the choices added with risks. For that, it seems fair to fully understand someone by the the time of his death. Every kindness and evil, success and failure, even chastity and hypocrisy all can be read wholly. When someone is too perfect, it is not more than just a framing to convey one thing and hide another, the same deed as a photographer who captures his object.
Up to this point, I would like to say that this is me with all of my possibilities. The possibilities that even me as an author won’t have known until later on. But one thing to remember, I am now trying to write, to preserve my plot into an act of life. This is why I filled this ‘intro’ section in such a diplomatic way, because for me, defining my unfinished self is the same as preceding the future and I surely never want any of that. ‘Till then, I prefer to walk alongside the time, becoming a piece of puzzle from my own series that can be witnessed by you as my companion.