Text 1 (free writing)

Is the trial of today against total information, against satellites encasing the earth, against data reconfiguring its forms?

Because I don’t feel I want to know everything, or that I want to know everything all the time. It creates a kind of violence to discover more than I want to of something of someone. Excess of information bothers me a lot, but also the fake awareness of having lots of information of knowing everything.

The labelled, the categories. It feels like I am trying all the time to labelled the my mind to understand things Writing is labelling Writing is a try of control Language is as well Images are as well

But there is another kind of game, of relation, ambiguous and playful relation among words and things? Among images and things?

Describing may be is a kind of control, of excess of control. But how do I feel with the lack of control? I feel that I don’t detach myself that much, that I don’t have the power I would like to feel free and uncensored by myself.

May be it is about the relation between the magic and the technique, the unknown _______ and the known, the religion _______ and the science, the fact of knowing _______ and the fact of waiting, the certitudes _______ and the hopes, the certitudes _______ and the illusions, the concrete _______ and the vague, the specific _______ and the vague, the specific _______ and the ambiguous, the sharp _______ and the blurred.

The things I know _______ and the things I want, the things I know _______ and the things I hope, the things I know _______ and the things I wish,

my deepest and most sincere wishes and hopes and desires.

The hidden desires.

May be it is about bringing to light the most deep desires. May be also it is about bringing to light the most deep anguishes. May be the first ones are more important than the second ones. May be the second ones are more important than the first ones.

May be it is a certitude that the most deep desires and the most deep anguishes do not have already a shape.

We are not going to travel to the deepest ocean of our body to find a treasure in an old boot with shinny coins. We know that there is something in there, but we can not know its shape. It is unknown but we know that it exists.

I know that something is somewhere. But may be also it is about not trying to find it directly like an eclipse. May be we disturb its form if we are trying to look at it directly, like Medusa. We cannot confront it, we only can walk around. We cannot have precision, we only can have ideas. We cannot define it, we can only imagine. We cannot go into the core of it, but in the surroundings. If we define it, we kill it. If I say: “This is that”, I am killing it. I cannot say that. I am against saying that. Totally. May be I am killing my thoughts saying that. Is it possible to have certitudes? May be is possible to have certitudes in the most in the smallest part of a second.

Text 2

She knows that something is somewhere.

But she must not try to find it directly, to not try to look at it directly like an eclipse. May be she disturbs its form if she tries to look at it directly, as if Medusa were around. She cannot confront it, she only can walk around. She cannot have precision, she only can have ideas. She cannot define it, she can only imagine. She cannot go into the core of it, but in the surroundings.

If she defines it, she kills it. If she says: “Here it is”, she is killing it. She cannot say that. She is against saying that. Totally. But may be she is killing her thoughts saying that.

The denial

May be it is a certitude that the most deep desires and the most deep anguishes do not have a shape, the unknown has not a shape. She doesn’t want to know everything, She doesn’t want to know everything all the time. It provokes a violence to discover more than she wants about something or someone. The sharpness is extreme violent for her. Excess of information bothers her, but also the fake awareness of having lots of information labeled in categories. It feels like she is trying all the time to labelled her mind to understand things but then a voice in her mind says

“writing is labelling, girl, by writing you are trying to have the control, to have the power”

“Language is a kind of violence, as well. Images are as well. Describing may be is a kind of control”, she answers.

“How do you feel with the lack of control?” Asks this voice.

“I feel that I cannot detach myself that much from the things I already know, that I don’t have the power I would like to feel free and uncensored by myself”, she replies,

But there is another kind of game, of relation, ambiguous and playful relation among words and things, among images and things.

A card game

About the relation between the magic and the technique.

the unknown and the known

the religion and the science

the fact of knowing and the fact of waiting

the certitudes and the hopes

the certitudes and the illusions

the concrete and the vague

the specific and the vague

the specific and the ambiguous

the sharp and the blurred

the things I know and the things I want

the things I know and the things I hope

the things I know and the things I wish

my deepest and most sincere wishes and hopes and desires

The hidden desire and the hidden search

May be it is about bringing to light her most deep desires. May be also it is about bringing to light her most deep anguishes. May be the first ones are more important than the second ones. May be the second ones are more important than the first ones. May be it is a certitude that the most deep desires and the most deep anguishes do not have already a shape.

She is not going to travel to the deepest ocean of her body to find a treasure in an old boot with shinny coins. She knows that there is something in there, but she cannot know its shape. It is unknown though she knows that it exists.

She knows that something is somewhere, we know that something is somewhere. If we define it, we kill it. If we say: “Here it is”, we are killing it.

Is it possible to have certitudes? May be is possible to have certitudes in the most in the smallest part of a second.