September 27, 2008

Imagination is at bottom the relationship with death. He sees his size with his own two eyes. Dirty old things, preludes to the obsessional or paranoid structure. We are walking it is the structure of presence. Nobody said anything but it is Freud indeed who blazes the trail. The path worn in the midpoint and the deviation between total absence and the absolute plentitude of presence. Each sutured region founds the separation inside/outside. But in distance marks a determined lack. Thus sensual, acrid an outside in the image of the inside. Knowing there is nothing it dominated as the master-sign and as the generative model. Twenty-four shapes of longing through the rhetorical casting of language. Indefinite process has always already infiltrated presence, speak to me what things were forgotten. Those untouchables in the univocity of verbal message. Desire of presence is born from the abyss, from the representation of representation, where the echoes are. And then the sun, and then the clouds, and then the earth a reconciliation of what murder as well as names were separated from.

I keep forgetting to breathe within a word that is flush with pleasure and pain. Trees moving in wind and rain harmony already within melody. You swim and swim through a border passable in both directions. Head up to the sky the savage possibility of transference. When you reach sand, there would be witnesses to the perviousness of limit. Here, there, everywhere, which is nothing but the outside of speech. As we enter the tunnel the etiology of psychoses and “false selves” as well as for the creation of play. Going around groping either by mind or hand culture to nature, evil to innocence, history to origin, and so on. The sides of my mouth subjected just as much as its non-object to spatial ambivalence. Accumulation of guilt that’s all in the head: desire desires the exteriority of presence and non-presence. Beneath ideas: underpinning in psychosomatic reality. Moment to moment the body seems to be the exteriority of liberty and non-liberty. I am a stripper; I don’t do lap dances; stressing the inheritance of language in the human state. Nothing more than that will do.

An infinite emptiness: their phlegm could only make their style concise. A profound sleep through a language that is already there. A tall sense of enclosures, there is a sky of blue hence the diversity of languages. The schizophrenic sets of work repressing maternal authority. And the already-three-ness of the language of which desire deludes itself. A short-term memory—an inscription of limits. This conjecture appears to be confirmed with phalangists for hat pins. Orbit the house as an adult, the corporeal mapping that abuts against them. And sure, a quietness of water declares this unity of the advantage of writing. He dragged her down the stairs by her hair mapping the selve’s clean and proper body. The patient flower no less forcible than the language of gesture. I am not saying that correctly; it absorbs within itself all experiences of the non-objectal. There are senses; the power of progress would lead to experiments with the prism. I cannot settle.

I wanted to make a space for healing, an archaic differentiation of the body. There is the sign of neither Descarte or Husserl or with others as scientific truth, nor the quality of an emotion as the premise of a syllogism. Membranes covered in small cuts repressed with the phallic phase and acquisition of language. If in death I am dead it is already society, passion, language, time. The patients, in groups of eight and nine take shape as the speaking being. From something in an inexact sign we have just accepted two pieces of evidence. I remember the opening line only the hemorrhage: a threshold before death. Attached to a particular language what can I reach, my mother the thing I came from. These are the clay bodies preoccupied by the risk of castration. Hypocrisies are everything no doubt recognized as anthropologies most important contribution. They are captivated and replaced by means of that inscription. One hand holding one hand, nature, animality, primitivism, childhood, madness, divinity, etcetera. I made a model of a volcano; a language now manifests itself. Each idea may have only one form and then a quiet, a dull.