martinandersson

[martinandersson]

If, as I suspect, psychoanalysis must be sacrificed for the sake of its own invaluable lesson, we might be tempted to remove psychoanalysis from the equation of talk without sex and “a new way of being present to another person” (a being- present perhaps independent of the personality constructed within a personal history). The analytic dialogue would be the accidental, or contingent, indicator of what Foucault called a “new relational mode.”

Leo Bersani, Intimacies

[martinandersson]

The love which is over and done with passes into another world like a ship into space, lights no longer winking: the loved being once echoed loudly, now that being is entirely without resonance (the other never disappears when and how we expect).

Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse

[martinandersson]

When we really desire something, or someone, our resistance is likely to take the form of our thinking it too difficult, or not worth the trouble, or impossible. And we work very hard to keep such forbidden objects at a distance, and as unattractive as possible to us.

Adam Phillips, Going Sane

[martinandersson]

Real development can only come out of, and is the process of finding, belief in the environment.

Winnicott, Adam Phillips

[martinandersson]

... Jean realized just how much that was purely subjective... and that all these things the Christian name, the music etc. contained not a shadow of love's reality, and only in the old gentleman's imagination seemed to constitute a bond between the lady and himself--like the hoarding of old photographs etc., whereas in truth only love can contain love.

Jean Santeuil, Marcel Proust

[martinandersson]

...sleeping is something we do when we are not aware that that is what we are doing.

Adam Phillips, On Balance

[martinandersson]

The true act of mourning is not to suffer from the loss of the loved object; it is to discern one day, on the skin of the relationship, a certain tiny stain, appearing there as the symptom of a certain death: for the first time I am doing harm to the one I love, involuntarily, of course, but without panic.

Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse

[martinandersson]

I am sitting with a philosopher in the garden; he says again and again 'I know that that’s a tree', pointing to a tree that is near us. Someone else arrives and hears this, and I tell him: 'This fellow isn’t insane. We are only doing philosophy.'

Ludwig Wittgenstein

[martinandersson]

Berserk: the image-repertoire

[martinandersson]

Finally, the offer of lightness?: "go on, go out, have a good time,"  (Barthes/Proust) etc. as if 'letting go' no longer seemed to imply a loss.

A reason for this could be that 'letting go' is just a symbolic translation (in the form of a projection) for the much more terrifying experience of 'losing oneself' (which would imply... what?)

--So the only thing to have brought on this transition is that now I feel that there is someone there to catch me.

[martinandersson]

Claymore

[martinandersson]

Berserk

[martinandersson]

Berserk

[martinandersson]

fuck. fuck it. fuck it, to let go of everything, is all I feel.

If only I could not care. If only there were no object of desire.

[martinandersson]

She asked, "Are you lonely?" & I said "Yes." & she kissed me & held me close & so then asked after the kiss "and now," smiling and looking intently into my eyes, "are you lonely now?" & still my answer could only be "Yes." We kissed for the remainder of the night & I felt, sporadically, less lonely (meaning that this feeling served only to remind me of how lonely I felt); being embraced, being kissed: kissing someone, reminding me of her; she wore the same glasses as her, etc. As if it could be sensed from without what I actually felt & what I sought; as if everyone I knew (someone I didn't know & who knew nothing about me) knew exactly what I wanted.

[martinandersson]

Miura Kentaro, Berserk

[martinandersson]

On the one hand, she wants everything, total mourning, its absolute (but then it's not her, it's I who is investing her with the demand for such a thing). And on the other (being then truly herself), she offers me lightness, life, as if saying: "but go on, go out, have a good time..."

Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary