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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8.2.04

the time for being in my company has come to an end.__while there are things i am sure to become, most of them i do not wish to acknowledge, most of them i wish not to recognize as myself.__in this space i am only mine, whomever that may be, and though my feel of this blank space may be only what i crave and not what i have, i am pleased to know that time does not go by in vain by necessity. i'm afraid to say many things, to feel many more, to be able to know within me those things my eyes can only tell; i'm afraid i will have to let myself go, i will have to grow, i will have to leave, i will have to stick to my self-administered dose of tortures.__is this really what i wanted? has it been nearly as much as i had hoped it would be? certain questions are not meant to be answered, are not meant to be asked.__certain things must not be allowed inside of my head, my pounding, aching, swollen head. every day the same question arises.__i cannot do more than ask myself to answer to the beliefs of destiny and purpose and meaning; and as i struggle to answer in a somewhat satisfactory way, the question strikes me as does fear.__maybe i'm not living as a should, or as i would want to in different states of affairs; maybe i have made a wrong choice or taken a wrong turn on purpose as to distract myself off the obvious path that i have drawn.__i should learn to walk in my footsteps.__i should find them first, or, at least, not try to lose sight of them deliberately. i wish i had done what was made out for me and not lose track of myself in this uncertainty.