To live in his own imagination, allows himself to be touched by his thoughts, to feel how ideas can excite… Rich, consummate fulfilment in a moment of mighty imagination makes all action superfluous.
Extraordinary
I’m thrilled, excited and full of ideas, but serenely without any sense of time and without agitation. Attacks and disputes tempt me to incite, but I do not raise my voice, I do not cry out! Happy, gay and garrulous, I laugh along with my guests. I read a foreign language uently, without understanding a word.
The remarkable attracts me in the extreme, is strangely stimulating and the source of my originality. So many different aspects of me have to be discerned and told apart for the noblest of them to be made out between the banal and the special
Drive Who calls me, calls on me? Who motivates me, sets my legs in motion, my body, my head? Am I being pushed, pulled? Rolled, thought, elevated? Am I the only one to get myself moving?
Cause and effect
Discontent without a cause, he suffers inexplicable torments, is greatly alarmed by the tiniest surprises and sees water flowing, where none flows. He hears nothing, yet still it resonates in his ear: “Do things happen for no reason?”
He who respects nothing, obeys no command, is indifferent to all that is ordained, will try to elude causalities and to create causes of his own. He will defend imagined effects as safe, palpable realities.
Simultaneity
I want only to sit and stare, to squat in a state of leaden immobility, to avoid seductive simultaneity! Have mercy!
Movement gives me ideas. the palms and soles are hot - I do everything at once and am happy! Great!
Does jubilation fade away before its cause? Is desire a bait or something induced? Do sensations stimulate me before the stimulus? Oh yes!?
Should I consciously coordinate my life, actively synchronize my actions, or take pleasure in everything at the same time? What to do?
Letting go
Mother, who in the cold winter of separation believes in the future blossoms of her child’s spring; daughter, who anticipates the old mother‘s leave-taking; son, uncommitted and at liberty: When the cement of anxiety fixes us to a situation, may trust in the unknown enable us to let go.