Degrees of Anonymity

Few knew him. No, many knew him, but within certain parametres. How many people really knew him and how many people knew of him. In the same way, how many people did he truly know? He considered his internet social networks, the numbers on his mobile phone, the wild scribbles of notes he took in his various notebooks, all of which contained messages, bits of information, numbers and descriptions that helped him to to remember others and, perhaps, who they were. But he could not say. How much do we really know about other people and to what degree do we remain anonymous?

He remembered reading about the theories of Marc Auge and his supermodernity, in which anonymity and identity merge in public spaces. Cyberspace, though only theoretical space, could perhaps also be seen as public space. Interaction, in whatever form, may be considered a public endeavour. Suddenly, he felt more than modern and on this day he would even go as far as to say, supermodern. Why not? It was in his head anyway.

As he looked out of the window upon Dublin and its habits, he realised that he had not yet decided whether, to him, Dublin would be a man or a woman. He did not know whether Dublin would really know him, or whether he would really know Dublin. He suspected that one might occur at the same time as the other, for that is the nature of friendship. From experience, he knew that two souls never became friends until both gave something, just a hint, of what currents flowed beneath. Every soul carried many secrets, some small, some big, but all noteworthy.

What secrets would Dublin be willing to share with him? How many secrets did Dublin hold? How old was Dublin's soul and how old was his? The thought intimidated him, which made him retreat to fiction. Henry and Loretta were fractions of his soul that might depart from him one day, but how many fractions were contained in the soul of Dublin? Dubliners came and went, inhabiting, emigrating, living, dying, but their visits left imprints on Dublin's immortal soul. Would his fragments make him immortal? Only time would tell.

Remember to live, he thought.