Transmutation often occrus, here's my communication with the one I lost or never found, the OTHER

À l'autre , *petite révérance* (desperate if you ask them, fascinating by me)
I lived in CAMBRIDGE UK, went to kindergarden there. my dad attended the trinity's physics courses , he is all about "dynamique complexe des fluides blabla". Kraftwerk, ach ja, sie machen interessante Musik, haben sie nicht "trans euro -expresS" geschrieben (electro-popsih with a broken voice and that rolling train lullaby). Als ich nur elf war und kaum von Leben wußte, entschied ich , jemand zu werden. Ein einzige Bild will mich nicht allein lassen: ich bin müde und lege in Bett . Ganz plötzlich, habe ich dem Eindruck, daß ich in Unbegrenztheit fliege, und, im Augenblick , finde mich auf einem hellen Rot, Bluts befleckten und verschobenen Lage. Ich zögere nicht und begann es alle zu lecken. Dann, öffne ich meine Augen und höre eine scheltende Melodie in meinem linken Ohr. Intrigierend. *me gusta el castellano mucho más que todas las otras idiomas porque me sale tan fácil, auncuando no lo hablo en casa ni siquiera con amigos, pero como no sé si comprendes o no, he escrito tambien en aléman, auch wenn mein deutsch schrecklich ist. *
franz ferdinand sounds too familiar , sorry to break it to you but i live in **********, its right next to germany *5 minutes from my house walking*, and in this town, i found out, at least i think tat the heavens are trying me and constantly test my ability to make up rational explanations to strange EVENTS. I AM, most often awe-struck. Le vertige et l' angoisse de la liberté, too easy an answer to me, id like to think it's all like doug adams said in the preface to the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy : that little girl found an answer to LIFE, okay so then a terrible, stupid accident happened and she just DIED. but at least she could look truth in the face, a halo of amazing splendour, and it was purposefully destroyèd . most philosophying, including sartres, feels like running on one of those work out carpet rollers thingies, such frustration and pointlessness: c'est du sur-place mental. Hum..... your tasty question puzzles me (l'autre m'a demandé si je pouvais m'imaginer le gout de rien) i know it's quite common to eat things that have no taste and stimulate none of your labial detectors nor your palate's (for a vibrantly perfectly-matching-that-description food try American cheese), but tasting of nothing is something i can't imagine. Nature abhors vacuum' etc, i doubt you would be conscious of it even if you did happen to stumble upon the TASTE of NOTHING, nothing is like nothing i KNOW. hum, clumsy, nothingness is what life isn't. OKay so death is part of life but i find defining EXTREMELY difficult, opposities make one, cold wouldn't be cold if it wasn't for heat....ad infinitum. it's like in maths, un raisonnement par l'absurde... how can somthing be TRUE because something else is absurd. A gentle ripple on a calm surface, hope everlasting, TIME. Like as the waves make way towards the pebbled shore, so do our minutes hasten to their end. shaky. I saw some parts of shoa, a 9 hour long movie/documentary by lanzman, truly moving. I saw a movie by francis ford coppola called peggy sue got married and I just realised how life is a self recreating deluge of change, an instant ago everything from language/fashion/music/ to landscapes/faces/art was different ...how determinist of me to say that I am scared of getting lost in a chain reaction initiated by something wrong. I wish I could create a moving wooden deck, blinded by lights, at the end of which an illusion of sea like tranquility would take you over. Otro sueno : Cuando era niña un día, el primero en el que mis padres me dejaron nadar sola, me fue tan lejos que casi no veia la costa, y estoy segura de que sintío a humpback whale, la véio eso si que lo puedo jurar, pero si me tocó, no sé...tal vez fuera una illusion de mi mente fertil de joven... nunca lo confesé a nadiem estas el primero. Claro que es estupido decirte eso, pero me gustas mucho, aun cuando a penas te conozco , incarnas lo que siempre quizé ser: artista.. J'aurais voulu etre un ARTIIIIIIISTE . watching brel (absence of logical link) perform is like being hopelessly devoted to you. The other. Berlin is great, from my love's experience. maybe not as great as london, *i was in london not long ago, where do YOU LIve?* maybe not as great as the swiss mountains in summer, maybe not as great as a lost island off the shore of california, maybe less intimate than a whole in the sand i once dug up for 2 hours just to fit in a embryo position in it another dream, for sure less frantic thank tokyo or beijing, less clean than reikjavik , BETTER than paris for sure, less HOT than barcelona , less beautiful than lisbon, more german than hamburg, richer than that little village near new dehli i stayed in once dreaming again, etc.. what moves me is incongruous beauty sprung from the unexcpected rise to life of certain words/images/collages. late at night i think about death and my heart stops beating, i sweat fear and my eyes stay open even though i am sound asleep. then joan baez haunts me "sweet sir galahad" here's to the dawn of their days...and from another song the executioners head is always well hidden.i sample sounds during the day and somehow at night it all comes back to me. it's hard to make it, i feel ostracized and struggle to control my hidden pearls and serpents. And is this you? Don't say maybe. Do you know about LOVE? or is that just young infatuation?
(I need to learn)∞