If you pay attention to your body, or where your body, the body that you are, empties, you’ll notice a kind of vibration, a leaping and dancing connectivity. Ebullience. The body scintillates a phosphorescence and vibration, anticipates and senses, is sensible in turn. You are grasped as you grasp, the lines are blurred—the previous distinctions between the self and the world are darkened, an adiaphonous zone is indistinguishably opened. You exceed yourself, and the world exceeds you; it’s beautiful.
In this vertigo, don’t worry. Try not to instantiate the self quite yet, do violence to the fluidity, cut the flux or look for where you are. Instead, find your breath; find the transitive. Everything is okay. Everything moves, and if you try to hold on, you’ll strangle.
Desire desires—it doesn’t quite care about subjects and objects, but subjects and objects are threatened by the impersonal potency that is desire. Desire desires, desires itself, is full of itself, creates itself out of itself and never ends. You are desire, desire is more than you.
We say “I” and we can keep saying it. The point, as it has been said before, isn’t to refuse saying “I”, but in achieving moments where it no longer matters if we say “I” or not. The self is paucity, desire is fullness.
Desire is intensive incandescence, juncture and commonality. It runs through everything, produces it all, is joy and bliss.
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