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Every little fish

05 Monday Jul 2021

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He who does not exist does not know
He who obeys does not suffer.

It’s up to the one who exists to know
Why to completely obey
Is never to suffer

When the Being is the one that bursts
Like the swell of the sea

You’ll never be set free
They’ll go right to the end as you toss and turn
You face the bitterest fate.

The fishes in the sea are dead
Because they chose not to be
To go right to the end without knowing anything
Of what you call obeying

God is the only one who refuses to obey
All the other beings do not yet exist
And they suffer
They suffer neither dead nor alive
Why?

« But in the end those who obey live
You can’t say that they don’t exist. »

« They live and they don’t exist.
Why? »

« Why? The door that separates the Being from obeying
Must be torn down! »

The Being is the one who imagines himself
To be sufficient to not need
To learn what the sea wants…

« But every little fish knows it! »

Antonin Artaud

Symmetrical

01 Thursday Jul 2021

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Raised splendor who fell

Cannot return to the previous state

The splendor swallowed up by its object

Now to invoke it

You let it pass

Hold nothing back

Follow the rhythm, resonate, and contemplate

Fall again

The fall teaches nothing when we are saved

Start over as you get up

One of us observes the other acts

Two modes for one life perfectly symmetrical

I observe the action and deconstruct it as it goes

One repeating the other to unite

Especially when the head is elsewhere

The rules are changing

Goals contradict each other

On the inverted body, the blue line folds over each other

A third life is being invented

Repetition #1

14 Monday Jun 2021

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The place is dark

I wouldn’t be there

Everything that happens in this place is also vague

The walls have absorbed enough follies

That behind them alone escape stories that get lost

You are not at all where you thought you were

On screen, they draw the elements of the future one by one

The pace of exposure and aggregation

The map is drawn

The choice of a place made it methodical

More moral, laborious, repetitive therefore ruthless

The bridge no longer exists

The other side of the landscape where you wanted to go

Has changed

We will stay until it is light

The City will be covered by traffic noise

The path will act as a buffer

We’ll go home, we’ll close the curtains

Blue

11 Friday Jun 2021

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For many years I have been searching the far edge of what can be seen

Horizons, anything far away

That distance is the colour of my emotions and desire

The far away where you are not

And where you can never fly to

You never arrive in for the blue world

Some things we have only as long as they remain lost

Some things are not lost only so long as they are distant.