"Is it by our language that we will know ourselves?"

‘You knew.’
‘I knew.’
‘How?’ Her head tilted slowly as she squinted across the steel table. The cuffs jingled.
He sighed. ‘People like you do the same every time. It’s not like you want to, you’ve just embraced your routine as if it is your life. What you do everyday is what you do everyday. There is no other alternative in your mind.’
Her brow furrowed deeply. She spat anger. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are telling me who I am? Or what I do? Or what I’m going to fucking do?’
The man tipped his hat upwards leaned back in his chair and put his hands atop his head.
‘I don’t know what you’re going to do. I only know what you’ve done. People don’t do something and then go on to do something else, especially if it’s been working out for them all this time. I wake up everyday doing the same thing I’ve done before, it’s not likely I’ll meet someone who does otherwise. You may say otherwise but people like you, like us, always do what they’ve always done. That’s how we know who we are.’

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