Do Not Ask Who I Am And

A Law Which Excludes All Dialectic And All Reconciliation; Which Establishes, Consequently, Both The Flawless Unity Of Knowledge And The Uncompromising Division Of Tragic Existence; It Rules Over A World Without Twilight, Which Knows No Effusion, Nor The Attenuated Cares Of Lyricism; Everything Must Be Either Waking Or Dream, Truth Or Darkness, The Light Of Being Or The Nothingness Of Shadow.

Death Left Its Old Tragic Heaven And Became The Lyrical Core Of Man: His Invisible Truth, His Visible Secret.

The Way People Really Think Is Not Adequately Analyzed By The Universal Categories Of Logic. Between Social History And Formal Analyses Of Thought There Is A Path, A Lane - Maybe Very Narrow - Which Is The Path Of The Historian Of Thought.

Maybe The Target Nowadays Is Not To Discover What We Are But To Refuse What We Are.

What Strikes Me Is The Fact That In Our Society, Art Has Become Something Which Is Only Related To Objects, And Not To Individuals, Or To Life.