Mente perturbada

Se me ocurrió antes de irme a dormir el ponerme a limpiar mi gmail. Así que me fui a revisar el mail más viejo que tengo. Es del 13 de Octubre del 2004, lo que significa que todavía tenía 16 años. Y tiene sólo la siguiente cita:

"How can another see into me, into my most secret self, without my being able to see in there myself? And without my being able to see him in me. And if my secret self, that which can be revealed only to the other, to the wholly other, to God if you wish, is a secret that I will never reflect on, that I will never know or experience or possess as my own, then what sense is there in saying that it is my secret, or in saying more generally that a secret belongs, that it is proper to or belongs to some one, or to some other who remains someone. It's perhaps there that we find the secret of secrecy. Namely, that it is not a matter of knowing and that it is there for no one. A secret doesn't belong, it can never be said to be at home or in its place. The question of the self: who am I not in the sense of who am I but rather who is this I that can say who? What is the- I and what becomes of responsibility once the identity of the I trembles in secret?"

No tenía recuerdo alguno de esto. Que pasaba por mi mente a los 16 años?