Thursday, May 14, 2009

the report_1

(the report)

It is very difficult to remember the order of events. They are not coercing me in any way. They don’t. It is more like distortion. Some words said or rather X saying them. X said something. Or was it that I heard someone say that X said something. It is noise. It comes slowly then rushes thru: are the ears listening now?


I could imagine myself on the ship, standing in the bright northern sun.

The Passage of the Night

Newness, freshness, running: my eyes looking at the gentler slopes of a warmer landscape. This passage has brought me south.

Passage 1: faced with the enormous detail, vitality, size of this complexity of life, there is a great temptation for me to impose my own pattern, an arbitrary pattern which must falsify-cannot do anything other than falsify. Or I invent, which is pure lying. Looking back and imposing a pattern to come to terms with the past must be avoided.


I am on a ship.



I am where I was.

Where am I?

Waiting for the ship

Looking at the waves



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