September 4, 2008

As I was walking Saussure introduced another massive limitation. To arrive seasonal, in pain, opening the door to perversion or psychosis. To the empty halls he announces the epic of the living word. I see, making a shape here, the edenic imagery of primary narcissism. Anxious about the weather, folding the door shut, imagination liberty and speech belong to the same structure as death. I write because I cannot paint in the ensuing fear of being rotten, drained or blocked. There is love only as love is beginning as a calculation that puts harmony in the place of melody. Only the darkness around them he sets himself under the aegis of the father. The obscene bodies twisting twisting reflexive, mutual, speculative, infinite. I am not beautiful having been the slave of language since before birth. Such impossible understanding because gesture, which elsewhere expresses need, here represents passion. I am here now and the always ambivalent threats are menacing identity. I wanted you somehow equal thus broached within the point of origin. At a slant prohibition throws a veil over primary narcissism.

It is difficult today directed toward an external object. Because you’re looking at the limit, it is indeed the concept of the sign itself and distinction however tenuous. It may be that I have taken an irreversible action. Your self walked into the room tonight with the other as with another me. I bleed like this by means of that very prohibition. Several times as the furniture in the dream languages are made to be spoken. The long dark of the border is verging on psychosis. Little song sing reflections upon writing as its death and its resource. The sound of man working with a nail and hammer, the totality of his living being. Standing in front of the fire neither identity or difference, neither consummation nor virginity, neither the veil nor the unveiling, neither the inside nor the outside. The glass of this body walking, sinking irretrievably into the mother. Glass, alabaster, an iron shovel the art of design is degraded when the physics is substituted for it. It is difficult today symbolizing a threat to the subject. But now we are crying and god won’t hide us.