He brought twenty images, in which he hid one that he was fond of. But he was not confident enough to put only the one image on the table. So he brought nineteen images to obfuscate what? The one image? That one image surely was not good enough and instead of that one, every other could have meant the same. So when it was not this one picture he was trying to hide: It was his lack of confidence into this one picture. And this lack of confidence into this one image was his lack of confidence, that looking at the world and bringing something home from it would get him anywhere. There really was nothing to see: He took all twenty images, placed them side by side on the table: They started contradicting themselves, weakening each other: Questionioning this view of the world, lamenting the views he had not chosen, asking in the line of: Wasn’t it more or less random? Is the world constructed in that taking of the initial images, which ultimately ends it being discarded as being insufficient, inconclusive, indecisive.

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