?

Log in

No account? Create an account
entries friends calendar profile Previous Previous Next Next
Nausea - shadows of echoes of memories of songs — LiveJournal
j4
j4
Nausea
... and more and more I just feel the need to write something, to say something, to reassert my existence.

It is very hard to see a black cat in a dark room, especially when it is not there. It is for this reason, primarily, that I rail against the darkness; although other reasons will from time to time make their influence felt. I am a tree which is loudly and resolutely falling in a wood, in the hope that somebody will hear. I am, I am, I am. Send not to know for whom this bell tolls.

This crude conceit bores me.

* * *

Every thing that I see is saturated with meaning and otherness; the whole world reeks of it. I am sinking in this quagmire of things that are not me, things that denote other things. There are several distinct and overlapping classes of things, of which some are:


  • Things which can be described and explained.
  • Things which hurt.
  • Things which have not been venerated.
  • Things which will not complain.
  • Things which can be wrapped in brown paper.
  • Things which hold us or are held by us.
  • Things which can be used to open boxes, doors and discussions.
  • Things which are remembered.
  • Things which other people have noted and classified.
  • Things which we taste with parts of the body other than our mouths.
  • Things which have never been lost.
  • Things which are too small to be worth eating.
  • Things which are too big to see.



There exist also numerous other classes of thing which are extremely important and consequently will not be described here.

I would like to work in a room full of books which do not symbolise anything. I would like to pick these books up and put them in groups according to their colour or perhaps their weight. I would like to know their smell as well as I know the scent of my own body. I would like to be able to look down and see my own hands clearly even when they are not touching anything.

I know that I am not the only person who sometimes forgets the names of things, because names are fitted with insufficient small fastening devices (which should be kept out of the reach of children, the insane, and people who are prone to choking). For this reason I know that it should not be shameful when I forget how to say a glass or a star or a house or a cappucino or a skirting-board or a thing that whirrs when you, a thing that rings like a bell when it, a thing that never fails to. But somehow I am always back in this same place holding a map that I cannot read. I consider worshipping the map instead of reading it.

So shall we meet as we always meet, in a place designed for waiting? Shall we say that this is a place for eating, and that is a place for praying, and here right here is a place for the other thing that we require? We will draw circles and lines on the ground between us and call it home.

Current Mood: claustrophobic

Read 5 | Write
Comments
From: kaet Date: August 26th, 2003 06:57 am (UTC) (Link)
Aie, this is the unanchored world of shabby Prosperos.
From: kaet Date: August 26th, 2003 06:59 am (UTC) (Link)
Aie, the unanchored world bobs in the wake of shabby Prosperos.

I wish my internal editor would sometimes just shut the fuck up! :)
beingjdc From: beingjdc Date: August 26th, 2003 06:58 am (UTC) (Link)
Crikey, from Rowan Atkinson to Childsong in one entry, and I can't see the join. *applause*.
From: kaet Date: August 26th, 2003 07:03 am (UTC) (Link)
Just out of curiosity, and because I've been wondering this about Being John Malcovich, is the being in beingjdc a noun ("human being" "Being Number7436" "Being jdc" etc) or a verb particle in the "On Being" sense, (eg "Being Happy" "Being rich" "Being jdc"). And what about Being John Malcovich do you think?
beingjdc From: beingjdc Date: August 26th, 2003 07:17 am (UTC) (Link)
It's a verb. I can't speak for the other John, but I have always assumed the same there too.

From January 1st

beingjdc describes my state of mind on the odder of days over recent times, especially when tired or emotional, a faint sense of being an observer on the outside, watching as jdc's life passes by - a feeling that I am an actor, and jdc is the part - 25 years learning the lines, and I will be judged by how well I play at being myself. What's the opposite of an iconoclast, is it a stereotype?

http://www.livejournal.com/users/beingjdc/568.html
Read 5 | Write