Why (n.) turned on beings as a whole rebounds on itself: why the Why?
Why (n.) can no longer be a tribunal before which be-ing is placed: why be-ing? From within itself.
Why (n.) cannot be asked of truth, because the asking already presupposes the truth of the why — and truth and the why are the same.
Why (n.) has a limit: to ask why there is perception and appetite at all is to inquire into something ultramundane, demanding reasons of God.
Why (n.) springs up from the excess of possibility: because our projected world always overshoots the beings that press around us, we must ask "why this and not that?"
Why (n.) already contains its first answer: every "why" presupposes some understanding of what it is to be — and that understanding is the primordial answer to all questioning.