Quand je ne connaîtrai que moi-même,
il n'y aura obligatoirement pas de frontière. Mais je rencontre
l'autre et je me sens seule dans mon monde sans frontières. Je
peux voir, moi-même et l'autre comme des systèmes autonomes.
Des systèmes très complexes d'une stabilité relative
mais forte à cause de la récursivité interne et de
la manque de communication avec l'extérieur. Je ne peux qu'augmenter
mes possibilités de communication au risque de devenir moins stable
comme système et en savant que je ne connaîtrai toujours
que moi-même. Un moi-même qui contient plus de l'autre qu'auparavant.
text(e)s Annie Abrahams
We walk on a path, which has innumerable junctions. Where
that one goes, everywhere there are abysses on the sides. It is at the
same time alarming and promising of knowknowing that nothing will never
be répètera, that all will be always different. We are all
alone, really only. There is nobody who follows the same road. Whatever
your choices at the points of junction, never you can approach the other.
There is a few moments this foreigner was near and already it is except
sight. Or it is beside you for a very long time for, at one always unforeseen
moment, to change direction. You go on an unforeseeable journey in an
infinite network. Invisibly your way depends on that of the other and
conversely. Each one of your choices influences the network in entirety.
Each thing which you make or say exchange the circumstances and thus the
possibilities of the choices of the others. But what you think remainder
of you. In your brain the processes develop according to a system with
the similar peaks and abysses. Your thoughts seek a road between the order
and chaos. In it one travels to the continuation of the new sights for
which your Co-travellers of reality deliver the conditions to you. And
if you want to make pass something of this space intimates to the others,
it is necessary that you repeated it miles time and still to run the risk
not to be included/understood. By repetition you can increase the chance
that your choice with you resounds to the borders of the network, but
you take also the risk to make hustle the landscape, until now full with
surprised in that with a monotonous desert.
I do not wish to make decoration, I do not want any to
make objects be looked at. I do not have taste, I was not high with regard
for art. I am still today the child, who notices with astonishment that
the sand, which runs between its finger is as real as his/her father,
who milks the cows a little further. I am also the teenager, who, each
evening, looks at stars fixedly and secretly sends a kiss to the preferred
boy of the vicinity, and which hopes to approach the one and other when
it is larger. When it is larger, it makes studies in biology. Always more
details in the microscope, to reduce always more. It wants to know the
life. This girl I am it always. Meanwhile I learned much, I lived much.
I know now, that the life is unknowable, that the other is unknowable
and I have the feeling to live only one of my possible lives.