Poverty is defined by one question: is there a way out?
2021, March
Have promised to endure. Do not want to endure. But she is a world war in me.
There are enough Adrienne Riches and Sylvia Walbys out there.
The person I could talk to. She does not want to be seen by me, not to be recognized by me. Wants to remain in her image, wants to stay
where she is.
She doesn’t suggest anything, doesn’t try to do anything with me. She just leaves it.
Everyone ultimately participates in the way things are. To not be alone, to not be poor.
Life comes down to decisions you make. You can appear a certain way. But who you date, with whom you work, how you earn your living, shows who you are.
Just as others restrict their lives by training for competitions or living vegan, I do so in relation to social life. It is comfortable to participate in the general. To fall into an accepted understanding. But I can’t do that. I can’t bear it.
The male genital means: taking without giving. The only moment at which the male genital acquires symbolic meaning is when honoring it promises entry into the circle of his life: into the circle of his recognition, social strength and stability.
The worst part of my job is listening to the Germans in line while I wait.
Theory further alienates me from the world. Perhaps it makes visible an alienation that also exists without it.
Our love has no language anymore
So far, everything has come true and more.
This appeasing desire to understand something against which one does nothing, can do nothing.
If a person cannot act (they go crazy).
I have new certainty. Don’t know exactly why, but much through the time with M. She was an anachronistic soulmate. Even if thought impossible, these people arrive at some point.
And if you die before then? They would have come if you had had more time.
“Therefore, the ultimate causes of all societal changes and political upheavals are not to be found in the heads of people”
Engels
I would love to draw faces and humans.
Everything is refined and made well by using it.
I am present with others in their coming.
And even if all being shines in the light of others, my thoughts are not with them.
I never felt a final rebellion of life in her.
Reading Hobbes. One must feel the madness tickle on the first pages. One feels the madness tickle on the first pages of Arendt, Foucault. Philosopher, that is: the obsessed.
Movement is the being of time. That is, both understanding and my plural understanding of being must be subjected to change. It is perhaps how I dive in and out of others. The flickering of my light.
[E. suffers from our relationship, withdraws. The energies darken.]
My mother did not listen to me. My father did not listen to me. People did not listen to me.
I was a child and I spoke.
If we show ourselves in our love, in our fondness and desire, we are thing of greatest fragility.
The speaking seizes the people in its prospective gaze. There they sprout. In the prospective gaze the world begins to live. There the faces of truth wander. No person began to believe they could be loved.
