If it would be, it would be this

Ah
I’m trying to keep several thigns up at the same time, according to writing and to where I am writing.
Not very easy that, but at the same time the others are clearly for me so eventhough everything is open in this WWW, I don’t think anyone will ever find those things because I can’t think what would be the interest. Unless I start to write more interesting things about my studies.

Well there’s interesting things about studies, but I’m not articulating those thing very well.
I’m in this mm.. conflict(?) within the interests. Right now I’m reading book by Andre Lepecki, “Exhausting dance” and it’s really hugely interesting, and at the same time I feel that I could never create dance through such a analyctical though points of views eventhough I like to think myself as analytical. Nevertheless when faces with real analytical thinking I have a tendency to lift my hands up and give up.
The world is such a complex network of… yes what… networks. and at the same time world is so simple.
Some of the feeling I get when reading Lepecki, or philosophy, or UG Krishnamurti is that we would have this parasite within us, or within language… That actually the really living thing is something else than the biological beings, but actually the being is really living in the network of language or symbols that the biological beings create, and somehow that network of symbols or that being(s) living there are controlling the biological being, and we are traped within, and only through luck we can break free of it..
And it’s not even social control, it’s far beyond of normativeness of social/unsocial behaviours, it’s hidden inside of the very.. not even language but thinking… not even thinking but being… Somehow

On summer in Berlin I saw a dream.
For a long time I have though, and in some I still think that language is ideas, ideas made visible and without language it would not be. Of course different people think by different means, and language is one way of articulating the idea.
However in this dream I was having dicussion with Sveta who at point had told me that it’s so difficult for her since first she has to make a though and then she has to translate that into english, like there’s double process, first making the idea/though into language and then translating that into another language.
And I was explaining back to her that there’s a double work, that if I use a lot of english like I do now, I don’t need to translate from language to another but i can “dress” the though with the language needed. Unfortenutaly at the moment I have only 2 ways of (a)dressing, Finnish and English.
That living being, a parasite, or truth or what ever is in that space before the language, before the social concepts, bending the biological into it’s use.. until we break free.

Eventually the freedom comes, but it doesn’t come to me, it comes, and it’s only it. It’s nothing else.
So language or thinking is eventually locked up. Now most of the hippie friends will be happy because this is their mantra, but unfortenutaly they’re fucked as well. Because when advocating “feeling”, “heart” “emotion” they are as locked up. Because actually is not language that is locked up, it’s all categories, which tend to come from language, but to be aware without language of somekind doesn’t seem to be possible at all.

I wrote about communication before, and how the only reason to communicate is that there is categories or concept of, I You We Us etc… Leave those and there’s no one and nothing to communicate about. No inside, no outside…
Ah something about language and communication: watch.

So, coming back to myself.. Why am I doing what am I doing?
What am I doing?
Why it would be important to do?
Is there a way to change things when things are always changing?
If not, then why not, and how not not?

More importantly, can dance, movement or non-movement, tell something about where how what when?
If there is me, what is the role of me?
If there is a role.

Yesterday was solictice. Winter started over here, but for me we are heading towards spring. Midwinter is over.

Stop, start.

Tale to tell?

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