insearchofwind: Story Line/Chapter Seventeen: Back To Black

1 Ağustos 2011 Pazartesi

Story Line/Chapter Seventeen: Back To Black

Ayna, tuzağınızdır...

Ve öfke, kapıyı açtığınızda kollarınıza düşen bir zaaf gibidir.

Gölgesiz bir görüntüye dönüşmek üzere. Öfkenin sahnelenmesindeki abartı sayesinde öfkesinden kurtulabileceğine dair güçlü bir inanca sahip. Dizginsiz bir kasırga gibi. Kesin bir yüzüstü bırakılmışlığa mahkum değil, fakat tercih durumunda olmadığından, öfkesi reddetme gücünü sabote ediyor.

Asla eylemin muhatabı olmayan "öteki" ile arasındaki farksızlık O'nu büyülüyor.

Öfkesinin zihninde açtığı boşluğa hükmeden şiddete, suç ortaklığı ediyorum. Örtük olmayan, açık seçik ve beklenen bir olay örüntüsü ile rollerin tersyüz edilişi.

Uzlaşmanın sahte cennetlerine sağır.

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"Dünya çılgın bir seyir aldığına göre biz de dünyaya ilişkin çılgın bir bakış açısı edinmeliyiz. "

"Uçlardansa aşırılıklarda telef olmak yeğdir. "

"Hız sonucun nedene karşı zaferidir. Hız bir ilk alan yaratır ki bu alan ölüme neden olabilir ve tek kuralı ardından hiç iz bırakmamaktır. "

"To whom could I put this question (with any hope of an answer)? Does being able to live without someone you loved her less than you thought...?" R. Barthes

"...language is never innocent." R. Barthes

"Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. İt is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire. The emotion derives, from a double contact: on the one hand, a whole activity of discourse discreetly, indirectly focuses upon a single signified, which is "I desire you," and releases, nourishes, ramifies it to the point of explosion; on the other hand, I enwrap the other in my words, I caress, brush against, talk up this contact, I extend myself to make the commentary to which I submit the ralation endure." R. Barthes

"Am I in love? - yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits." R. Barthes

"All those young photographers who are at work in the world, determined upon the capture of actuality, do not know that are agents of Death." R. Barthes

"The bastard from of mass culture is humiliated repetition... always new books, new programs, new films, new items, but always the same meaning." R. Barthes

"Cowardice and courage are never without a measure of affection. Nor is Love. Feelings are never true. They play with their mirrors." J. Baudrillard

"İf you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity." J. Baudrillard

" It is always the same: once you are liberated, you are forced to ask who you are." J.Baudrillard

" There exists, between people in love, a kind of capital held by each. This is not just a stock of affects or pleasure, but also the possibility of playing double or quits with the share you hold in the other's heart." J. Baudrillard

"There is no aphrodisiac like innocence" J.Baudrillard

" Don't forget to love yourself" S. Kierkegaard

"It is so hard to believe because it is so har to obey." S. Kierkegaard

"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards." S. Kierkegaard

"Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced." S. Kierkegaard

"Love is all, it gives all, and it takes all." S. Kierkegaard

And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion.

Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call. Sylvia Plath

How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought. Sylvia Plath

I am too pure for you or anyone. Sylvia Plath

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again. Sylvia Plath

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am. Sylvia Plath

Is there no way out of the mind? Sylvia Plath

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing. Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath

And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion. Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call. How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought. I am too pure for you or anyone. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.

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1 Ağustos 2011 Pazartesi

Story Line/Chapter Seventeen: Back To Black

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Moby/Porcelain

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Jean Baudrillard

Sylvia Plath

I'm French, so I'm quite lazy about exercising, and I smoke.