I Rightly Pass For An Atheist.

I Was Wondering Myself Where I Am Going. So I Would Answer You By Saying, First, That I Am Trying, Precisely, To Put Myself At A Point So That I Do Not Know Any Longer Where I Am Going.

As Soon As We Cease To Believe In Such An Engineer And In A Discourse Which Breaks With The Received Historical Discourse, And As Soon As We Admit That Every Finite Discourse Is Bound By A Certain Bricolage And That The Engineer And The Scientist Are Also Species Of Bricoleurs , Then The Very Idea Of Bricolage Is Menaced And The Difference In Which It Took On Its Meaning Breaks Down.

Actually, When I Write, There Is A Feeling Of Necessity, Of Something That Is Stronger Than Myself That Demands That I Must Write As I Write.

But Can One Not Conceive Of A Presence, And Of A Presence To Itself Of The Subject Before Speech Or Signs, A Presence To Itself Of The Subject In A Silent And Intuitive Consciousness? Such A Question Therefore Presupposes That, Prior To The Sign, And Outside It, Excluding Any Trace And Any Différance, Something Like Consciousness Is Possible.

Who Ever Said That One Was Born Just Once?