on being - everything and liminality (aragon)

Caught in the maze, the mind is dragged toward the denouement of its destiny, the labyrinth without a Minotaur where, transfigured like the Virgin, radium-fingered Error reappears, my singing mistress, my pathetic shadow.
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The modern world is the only one which answers my mode of being. A great crisis is newly born, an immense disturbance coming into clear focus. The beautiful, the good, the just, the true, the real,…and a horde of other abstract words are, this very instant, losing credit. Their opposites, once preferred, will soon become synonyms. After the universal crucible has reduced everything to uniform mental matter, only ideal facts will survive. I am a lightning bolt passing through myself, and fleeing. I shall be able to overlook nothing, for I am the passage from darkness to light, I am simultaneously the West and the dawn. I am a limit, a line. Let everything mingle in the wind; all words cohabit in my mouth. And surrounding me is a wrinkle, a visible shiver curling upward like a wave.

- page 89, "The Passage de L'Opera," Le Paysan de Paris, Louis Aragon