Old Old Words

drops from an archaeological ocean — to be reworked

Month: May, 2010

So…now, how  do I regain energy…?
How do I repair myself?

Sad indeed, this inner torsion…
Ce chemin enchevĂȘtrĂ©…

alas, alas…fuck.

It has to be done, it has to be achieved…

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devil… quickly and deeply deprived of my energy…

one event, one torsion of the self…

I am very fragile, very very…

Very subject to this disintegration of the self…

Link with desire… it is all wrong…
I always do the same fucking mistakes…
I don’t say what’s on my mind.
I retain everything…
There’s no way I see… I am enclosed…

And so, after that, my only solution is to regain, slowly, slowly, my energy…

Devil… fuck.

probably some link with ‘freedom’ and ‘constraint’…

the sad situation of having to write in a context where writing is absolutely flattened, horizontalized…

so how to solve this devilish crux?

how to act towards this as one would towards a constraint,
not as a big wall of absurdity???

probably the only solution, then…
probably the only way out…
take it as a supreme constraint…

my fundamental mistake…

the problem is internal to writing itself…

it is not that ‘external content’ hasn’t something to do with it…

but the thing that blocks is how this ‘external content’ can be dealt with within the text…
for that, a reflection about the internality of text production has to be developed…

the process of textual/intellectual production…
there probably lies a part of the crux.

through multiplicities of references,
endlessly
open a space
where loneliness can be found

loneliness …
in crowd.

ok…
it seems… I am much (waaaaaaaaaaay) better at fantasizing… about thing…

than realizing them…

thus, I have to take this as a given… the very structure of my personality…

so.

to write text… I should write what I fantasize upon…
And not try to realize the fantasies that I already had…

try to write  on the very mode of fantasy (fantasme)…

try to make this a strength, instead of my radical weakness…

I wonder… Can this be?
How could this be realized (lol fully accomplished paradox…)…
(now I’m supposed to realize, accomplish the fantasy-oriented writing…
and since I’m not supposed to be good at realizing…)

I should find some way…

**

looked at universities staffs…
there are so many, sooooo many people working on different things…
very weird.
I see many options in front of me, etc.

The same for books… I can browse the net, find many many books that could be cool to read…
And of course, since I put myself in this mode of ‘accomplishment’, ‘realization’ when it comes to reading them…
Everything falls apart…And I don’t do it… And I don’t read (much, although a bit more these days)…

I should find a way to write, for this bloody thing…

write, write,write…
do something…
get out of this damned situation…

the soft feeling of the keyboard…

and here I am again
totally blocked…

with a black life in front of me
as black as death.

strange thoughts probably
only strange thoughts could
induce
such a state of weirdness.

now I am imprisoned
within absurdity
impossible to write this shit
paper

same impossibility
always the same
and it won’t stop
it won’t resolve, or go away…

no solution, no exit
nothing.
only the wall, the barrier, the cell, whatever…

shit

me thinking about myself hating that and me…

maybe I should consider myself beaten…vainquished
at last…

see the absurdity of all this…
how with my configuration
I will only be weak, improductive, etc.
Not the immortal hero I always dreamt to be…

And of course if I cannot be exceptional, there’s only death
or the mediocre shit life…

fuck.
How deep my hatred of life goes…
hatred  of this life at least…

life of constant inferiority and failure.
but luckily it’s over pretty soon.
(unfortunately this pretty soon will be felt as a long time… a few decades, that’s such a ridiculously small amount of time… but still, it passes slowly)

shit

I will have this lowly life…
Can’t get over my problems…
Can’t find the way…

dreadful doubt again…

this bloody crack in my brain…

Suddenly I don’t see the path anymore…
I don’t see that I’ll finish this bloody text…
I don’t see how it might be finished…

And hence, everything, every method idea, every attempt, is ruined…