December 5, 2008

On and on and up and down the metaphysics of the logos must reflect upon writing as its death. The former is already a closed heterogeneous text. The negativity of the crisis is not a near accident the shadow’s darker and the fire grows dimmer. It is simply a frontier, a repulsive gift from the Other. The hands unable to hold this remorse that produces anthropology. Separation exists, and so does language, even brilliantly at times. The tiredness, the fatuousness, the economy of pity. Want and aggressivity have adapted to each other. The air is thick and wet acknowledging the presence of another intelligent being. Such a statement of the problem enables one to avoid all metaphysics. The cry the voice and the song think a several dimensioned locus. Meaning thereby is equivalent to rebirth. Waves break at the different situations of the larynx, the cause of two kinds of voice. I wanted to say everything, the inner skin bruised and falling off the bone.

Make geometry of murderous variants and confirmations. But that incredible idealism: even savages cook their meat. Forget want, amounts making transference paranoidal. A little water falls when we consider ourselves awakened. It is possible to by cynical without being irreparably abject. Bleed into the toilet the first and the last resource of the sign. Her asshole anchors her interiorly to the Other. The road goes out but we are no longer able to call it origin or ground. It jettisons the object into the abominable real. That insistent distance of irreducible difference. A devisor of territories, languages, revelation burst forth. I walked away from myself the integral and concrete object of linguistics. The shattered mirror is where the ego gives up its image. Borrowing pattern and content from writing, blood tells.

What do they put in the graves of repetition and the splitting of the self? The bodies inside a correlative function of bonding the subject. Let me stumble into the opening of the question. Introduce the dangerous object silhouetted by the smoothing of blood. Join bodies to minds in the transformation of the language. In the advent of each speaking being, the music does this to us. These sensations determined as the field of presence. At this moment the social organism was covered in synchronic speech. The associations you have for me pass from one structure to the other when the sign crosses the stage of the symbol. Integrate, assimilate, different languages recorded in discussion. To the empty halls he announces the old notion of peoples said to be without writing and without history. That such a murderous event could be mythical, the primal causality of symptoms. Tunneling through the earth this way – the originarily metaphoric essence of our language. Frail identity of the speaking being.

The boundary and margin are out of order. We love what we love, fearing it at the same time as a machine of death. The fascinating defilement of the social aggregate. Fires still burning in heart, the exchange of presences and absences. The human body is metaphor for exclusion and prohibition. Don’t ever refuse that which, separating it from itself, breaches the living voice. The speaking being is permanently engulfed. And what the hell else to say but I too am a dreamer; I give my dreams as dreams. The result of such is worth confronting. Echo of what it has come for it leaps over the text toward its presumed content. Without going into the details of the demonstration, note the following. There is a long stretch of sky before us. The speaking being is separated by sex and language. I want to fuck you in a classical shape that gives itself out to be a synthesis that faithfully restores.