Victor Munoz

Midway between angst-ridden notes of an adolescent and a geriatric’s deathbed indictment of the world, these leçons en ténèbres, may be seen a result of having been shut down as a child for asking too many questions with the platitude that understanding one day would follow. Less familiarly, each day, for the rest of its life, this child makes a ritual of asking itself if now it understands. And each day the answer is no.   The former child came to wonder at their development. The practice is not conducive to “maturity.” Did it halt early or were they lied to? Did senility overtake nonage? Or was it that they were misplaced where everyone lies without cease in the service of wanting to live, and this, their botched attempt at learning to assimilate, left them misabled?   Should those who fostered the misability be forgiven? For their willing victim fears they knew well what they were doing.   ~ Victor Muñoz, editor