Fragments... Thoughts//Dreams//Hate...

the materiality of the word, the text, we often assimilate other authors, and in a sense authorize them, personalize them, transform them with our words of solitude. Thus when we speak of the specter of any given individual, any phenomena, what we speak of is the materiality of our embodied constructs, our heuristic schema, our way of parsing out the chaosopoly of the surroundings, and materializing it, trying to eternalize it, and speak as if the 'other' the 'author so cited' had pre-exsisted, had a letter to be represented... but the question of representation calls forth a dichotomy, that being represented, and the signifier... but if the dichotomy collapses, the textual exgenesis is an manifestation of the conjecture, the limits of the infinitude of impossibility and the materiality of actuality (which is actually the horizon of infinitude immanent in the impossibility of possibility) we see that the multitude of the conjecture, the aleatory, happens to ring of those old parables who speak of multiple 'highways' in history (ones can always change lanes, but the road is paved, is given, is constructed, but one only knows that one is driving, one can not speak of the ground covered as an eternality, leaving its imprint on the current state, or road, the current road rather imprints itself, has imminent within itself, the past, the limit, the horizion of the highway.) So we walk within these limit breaks, the limit break of every society, of everything, how can the current conjecture be overcome, and how cant the infinitude of possibility be actualized...... this is something i find most interesting, yet most never think of the processes of reproduction of any given social/cognitive formation and its continuance (or feeling there of), how is it that the hetrogenity of experience can be totalized into a feeling of homogenity, of continuity, to speak as if myself five years past was the same as myself now (which i feel is a modernist construct of self identity, but one that must fill in the gap, due to the abysss of representing myself, i must rather present myself as such to fill in the void between the impossibility of representation, the infinitude, and the actuality of the lived experience, in order to bridge the gap, the abyss.) This is where the schema comes in, the presentation of the self as such, constantly authorizing the self, filling in the lack, the labidinal gap to be filled up, the limit.... Always think at the limit. As the anarchists of 68 in france declared "Be Realistic, Demand the Impossible", these words i have now authorized, have authored as myself, the determinants of the past, the present, the future, the horizions, all merge, all reconstruct themselves (rather, i should use the term co-construct themselves, since the concept of reconstruction would imply the origional archeological primitive, the essence to be reconstructed..). the materiality of now, the materiality of the limit, of the abyss, of the nothingness..... I have now come to seee the void in a new light, the negativity of subjectivity (if we can even speak of such a thing since it implys dualism of the cartesian sort, but none the less i maintain the nomenclature for lack of any oter linguistic devices as my service given this moment). Maybe im reading to much althusser, Derrida, Marx... Maybe i am dreaming, living at the limit, of my own death (such a word doesnt make sense to me though.....i tried to expalin this once to someone, but i come across as a stale pretensious ranter....), death is not the absolute, the perminant, the self is neither the essence, the thing giving itself, taking itself (as to be taken, or to take. both work as to overdetermine everything. One is taken by everything, and one takes everything........a philisophical paradox that makes so much sense to me, it seems unsensable.), i see every moment as a death/ a rebirth/ of the void, of the process, the process of eternal overcoming, of becoming. One never arrives at a destination, the telos, for one is not on a singular track (to bring up the allegory of history as a multi-lane highway again, but i like the view of history as the limits, the collapse, the negativity of preception, of action. We live on this negativity and construct it from its lack, from its implicit lack. Thus historicitiy is nessicary and contingent, we fill the void the abyss of representation, the lack calls us, and we call the lack, the internality and externality of history collapse into oneself, we are living historically, we are history, we construct it and are constructed, it is immanent in its effects as althusser would speak of structural causality..... One last word, Fuck Empire, fuck the totality, fuck the preachers of death, of sterility, of the absolute telos, fuck it all....... my solitude rests in the process of eteranl recurrence (to speak of eternal as if it exsisted outside of the finitude of experience is something i wish to avoid, i mean to speak of the infinitude, the eternal as the now, the ever changing processes of becoming into nothing. Becoming as it were for itself in its multiplicity and infinitude.). I resign for the night.... Maybe this expose has shed some light on why i am attracted to my own constructed sense of anarchism and reject the state......My fragments will be authorized by each of you, so take and regurgitate what you will, feed yourselves, realize yourselves....for i am immanent within you, the singularity, the pulsating process of singular motion. Maybe quantum physics will have something to say about the infinitude and multi-conjectural processes of becoming (somewhat multi-dimensional, lacking in any telos, other than the conjecture), but i leave that to those who feel they have the solitude to speak on such matters, i realize the limits of my own schemas (or rather, construct them as such)......... I would like to live on the limits of identity, the nomadology of becoming, constant becoming... what is it with this and the buddhist concept of impermanince, and focusing on the materiality of now through the practices of medditation (though the termenology is idealist, but one cant help but feel that the dichotomy between idealism and materirialism should collapse within this presentation of the materiality of the conjecture, of the 'now' so to speak) to realize the buddha-nature (which has been read as immpermanance by the theravada school). How bizzare is it....I truly want to study this more, to grow into myself, to become.....these are fragments of my daily thoughts, as i try to capture, or to take them on this blog, the imppossibility of doing so shows the limit, the infinitude of the presentation.... its multivoiced content......for we all are the voices that speak through it, or are rather it speaks through us.