To every being mentioned & never mentioned with a name: How can one speak of Acknowledgments? How can one pretend to summarize lives and their effects on I? How am I to deliver Eulogy after Eulogy inthe fake gesture that in such deliveries, in such work on work that has already been given and appropriated by me, someway and somehow, that I absurdly could be regarded as returning a payment, even if partial, of the debt that I owe others? Somehow I am expected to hierarchically do this, to act as this authority figurecalculating whom and whom not to acknowledge, who and whom are relevant?! No! The energy that I could spend in lying and deceiving others and myself leaves me abandoned, left only with one possession:my intentions. Intentions that if I could I would name those met, those never met, those I will meet and those whom I shall never meet. But how can I? There is infinite debt here at work, more than one can fathom and mention. An infinite debt, in admiration for those, who in my mind, have given and entrusted parts of themselves to me; I have forfeited my infinite debts to God because you have all left me trembling.For how can I not be left trembling if “I am sacrificing and betraying at every moment all my other obligations: my obligations to the other others whom I know or don't know, the billions of my fellows(without mentioning the animals that are even more other others than my fellows), my fellows who aredying of starvation or sickness. I betray my fidelity or my obligations to my fellow citizens, to those whodon't speak my language and to whom I neither speak or respond, to each of those who listen or read, and to whom I neither respond nor address myself in the proper manner, that is, in a singular manner (this is for the so-called public space to which I sacrifice my so-called private space), thus also to those I love in private, my own, my family” (Derrida)
To Eric: My tongue betrayed my intentions solely once…you have offered me infinite hospitality …and it is
for that …I owe you infinite debt.To Sean: A friend, a mentor, whom I have come to enjoy from the meanings of the word freedom. Youmade me discover how one is capable of stuttering it for what remains of one’s life…I owe you infinitedebt.To Sajida: I am told that without commitment, love becomes a friendship, an economy of utility andperhaps even a testament to the impossibility of enduring the experience of earthly pure love. Initially Ipresumed mourning had commenced but discovered that my mourning has yet to be given wings. DearestSajida, You need to know that your love gave me tragic wisdom particularly with what now flows throughmy life…
For how can one have anticipated there to be a love left like this?
I will always sincerely mournthat it wasn't enough with you…for that was my love to you…and I thank you for it is before I had come toknow your name that…I owed you infinite debt.To Marwa: When you told me we were always strangers…I embarked upon a voyage where you werephysically…I never felt that you were so private within me as much as I did upon taking that voyage to thedestination in which you chose to reside…a destination, for I, filled still with horrors…What I discoveredthough was that despite the horrors, all I needed to know, even if I could not see or speak to you, was thatyou were physically there…I never lost hope…I owe you infinite debt.To Richard: You taught me the economy and rhetoric of language. You spoke to me and in mydirections. In truth, for I, in asylums were lab-coats are prominent, you abandoned yours. In truth, Youhave shown me how to make a very thin file from a sledge hammer…and if the reader paused for a momentand only a moment they would understand that I wrote for You and I…
…I owe you infinite debt.