hesitant aranta



depicted

[foto de ºCHiViSº--flickr]

incoming
Nicomachean Ethics//Aristotle
Eudemian Ethics//Aristotle
Poetics//Aristotle
De Anima//Aristotle
Cause, Necessity and Blame//Richard Sorabji
The Fragility of Goodness//Martha C. Nussbaum
Essays on Aristotle's Ethics//Amelie Rorty (editor)
Aristotle's Theory of Action//David Charles
Aristotle on Moral Responsibility//Susan S. Meyer
The Fabric of Character//Nancy Sherman
Choosing Character//Jonathan Jacobs
Aristotle's Psychology//Daniel N. Robinson

Volta//Björk
Medùlla//Björk
Vespertine//Björk
Vespertine Live at the Royal Opera House//Björk

Carbon Monoxide//Marlboro Reds
caffeine in not so large ammounts

a whole lotta love

secondary bibliography

overt influences
straying

[...]
Wie ich mechanisch eine neue Zigarrette drehe und die braunen Stäubchen mit feinem Prickeln auf das weißgelbe Löschpapier der Schreibmappe niedertaumeln, will es mir unwarscheinlich werden, daß ich noch wache. Und wie die feuchtwarme Abendluft, die durch das offene Fenster neben mir hereingeht, die Rauchwölkchen so seltsam formt und aus dem Bereich der grünbeschirmten Lampe ins Mattschwarze trägt, steht es mir fest, daß ich schon träume.
Da wird's natürlich schon ganz arg; denn diese Meinung wirft der Phantasie die Zügel auf den Rücken. Hinter mir knackt heimlich neckend die Stuhllehne, daß es mir jäh wie hastiger Schauder durch alle Nerven fährt. Das stört mich ärgerlich in meinem tiefsinnigen Studium der Bizarren Rauchschriftzeichen, die im mich irren, und über die einen Leitfaden zu ferfassen ich bereits entschlossen war.
Aber nun ist die Ruhe zum Teufel. Tolle Bewegung in allen Sinnen. Fiebrisch, nervös, wahnsinnig. Jeder Laut keift. Und mit all dem verwirrt steigt Vergessenes auf. Einst dem Sehsinn Eingeprägtes, das sich seltsam erneut; mit dem Fühlen dazu von damals. [...] Vision. Proza-Skizze//Thomas Mann.


past utterances
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5.11.03

there are many things i cannot understand, most of the things that happen, or simply are, escape my grasp. i'm sorry to say that i am the piece in the puzzle that doesn't seem to fit anywhere -probably in another puzzle, one lost, or forgotten-, i'm sorry to say that i can't do anything to remedy anything, i am just here to look and to strive for attention, i am here to be what no one notices, what no one cares if wrong... i'm sorry i can't be the interlude in others' pain, i'm sorry i am always sorry for something; i heard something really nice today that has stuck to my brain in a manner i cannot yet begin to understand [spinoza. E. D. M. G. IV, 44], maybe all i need to get through is something nice from someone else. but these someoneS seem to be in as much pain as i am and have been before. what am i to do with the frustration brought forth by impotence? i don't know much anymore, i don't think i've really ever known anything but the evidence of my tiny helpless existence is enough to make me wonder if interaction is going as it should. aren't we here to be comforted by others and not by other's pain? as i once thought, there is much that i can do but am not entirely resolved to do so... then again, maybe it is not a matter of will, maybe being convinced of the possibility of changing something has corrupted what lays behind my eyes to the point of feeling too frustrated by something that is so very natural in all of us: impotence of change, irrelevance.