“I’m certain, but my certainty is a lie.
To be certain is to not be seeing.
The day after tomorrow doesn’t exist.
This is what exists:
A blue sky that’s a bit hazy and some white clouds on the
horizon,
With a dark smudge underneath, as if they might turn black.
This is what today is,
And since for the time being today is everything, this is
everything.
I might be dead—who knows?—the day after tomorrow,
In which case the storm that will strike the day after
tomorrow
Will be a different storm than it would be if I hadn’t died.
I realize that the storm doesn’t fall from my eyes,
But if I’m no longer in this world, the world will be
different—
There will be one person less—
And the storm, falling in a different world, won’t be the
same storm.
In any case, the storm that’s going to fall will be the one
falling when it falls.

10 JULY 1930”