At this moment, I stand neither for nor against anything. I am utterly alone, and this solitude envelops me with a sense of contentment and ease. I no longer care to prove my own superiority or to make others feel their own baseness.
The era of bickering and strife has passed. I wake up every morning, take my books, head to the office, and spend the day as if I were in my own private study. I set a reading schedule for the day and adhere to it: I begin with the newspapers, followed by a magazine, then a chapter from Nietzsche or Spengler, and perhaps conclude the day with Shakespeare or an Arabic novel. The staff rarely speak to me. Ever since my altercation with Dr. Saeed, they have realized that I am a peculiar creature—one whose company exhausts them, for it compels them into modes of thought that are both unfamiliar and distressing. Consequently, they reached a silent, collective decision regarding me: to resume the lives they know and understand, and to leave me be—alone in my dark, enigmatic corner.
I read about Hamlet, Ali ibn Abi Talib, and Socrates; about Eva Perón, Jehan Sadat, and Aisha bint Abu Bakr; about Ancient Rome, Baghdad, and New York. I read whatever I please; and as I draw closer and gaze intently, the threads of interconnection reveal themselves to me, unveiling a truth of magnificent unity.