YuHeng's blog

Monday

Today I shall only quote this passage that sums up the chaos and disintegrating form of any order–an unifying “anonymous becoming.”

“But today, ex post, I know it was the arrow that was the most important, so in telling thisI move it to the forefront, from a myriad of undifferentiated facts I extract the configuration of the future. But how can none describe something except ex post? Can nothing be ever truly expressed, rendered in its anonymous becoming, can no one ever render the babbling of the nascent moment, how is it that, born out of chaos, we can never encounter it again, no sooner do we look than order… and form… are born under our very eyes?”

Then at the end of “…eyes,” I’ve found this quote to be less potent exactly because of the fact that it is a quote, that it is extracted from its creme de la cream, that it is reduced of its potency, merely for the sake of proving the fact, that it is vigorous, severe, and overarching. Well now, the constitutive elements have been lost, with which one makes the creme de la creme, but now its just the creme without the de la creme, which just makes it a spoiled, sour, curdling thick creme. Most of all, this now strikes me as the exact same effect as Witold’s encounter against the initial chaos, from where order immediately emerges, vacant and empty, rotten at its core, where it is no order at all, only disorder with the mask of order, overarching, lost and severed its precedences, connections, the spontaneous overlapping continuity. I can neither trace nor derive a system without its fundamentals; i cannot reduce because reduction only comes ex post, and by saying this it is helpless because I can only reduce by abstracting, and abstraction is ex post, and always, I am losing something. I hope to simulate the loss of this hole, this horizon, this gap where the chasm opens, so we tumble and fall.

Oh and my schedule for today–

I went to class, late, sat with the light blurring my eyes, a pale luminance of mumble jumble, what?, can’t even look at my laptop, I stared at the wall just past the gaze of my professor, who, if I stared at too long, would fancy me queer and unusual, and probably develop an unconscious dislike which would then rendering my efforts moot… well, if I were to ever participate. HA.

Got home, cleaned up, more cleaning, bathed in the sunlight, played with the dog, dinner, shopping, not much, and still…

still, no reading done