Weak Thoughts, Weak Desires: He Felt Their

My Being Subsists Only From A Supreme Point Of View Which Is Precisely Incompatible With My Point Of View. The Perspective In Which I Fade Away For My Eyes Restores Me As A Complete Image For The Unreal Eye To Which I Deny All Images. A Complete Image With Reference To A World Devoid Of Image Which Imagines Me In The Absence Of Any Imaginable Figure. The Being Of A Nonbeing Of Which I Am The Infinitely Small Negation Which It Instigates As Its Profound Harmony. In The Night Shall I Become The Universe?

A Writer Who Writes, ''i Am Alone''... Can Be Considered Rather Comical. It Is Comical For A Man To Recognize His Solitude By Addressing A Reader And By Using Methods That Prevent The Individual From Being Alone. The Word Alone Is Just As General As The Word Bread. To Pronounce It Is To Summon To Oneself The Presence Of Everything The Word Excludes.

The Disaster... Is What Escapes The Very Possibility Of Experience—it Is The Limit Of Writing. This Must Be Repeated: The Disaster De-scribes.

If Nothing Were Substituted For Everything, It Would Still Be Too Much And Too Little.

I Lean Over You, Your Equal, Offering You A Mirror For Your Perfect Nothingness, For Your Shadows Which Are Neither Light Nor Absence Of Light, For This Void Which Contemplates. To All That Which You Are, And, For Our Language, Are Not, I Add A Consciousness. I Make You Experience Your Supreme Identity As A Relationship, I Name You And Define You. You Become A Delicious Passivity.