luni, 2 decembrie 2013


The words are faster than the facts to which they refer.

For this reason, they go farther than them and generate new facts than those which they were meant to be described.

The facts go slowly to the point whence they become able to be appropriate subject matters for a discussion. They firstly provide an image about which we can discuss by exploring their most visible shapes, since the words as forms of speaking are closer to the forms of some objects than to their content.

The dead objects provide easier and faster such an image and thus the sciences of lifeless objects can grasp the forms of their objects through a formal or precise language.

Differently, a living object as a human being provides a definite image only when it dies. The memories of our known dead persons are supported by a few images and our words about them borrow the sobriety of a scientific discourse: the obituaries try to follow scientifically the shapes we meet in those images.

However, the dead persons have the reputation of haunting the living ones in their dreams or through sudden memories. In such encounters, they cannot be subject matters of our words any longer, but only causes of fear or sorrow. They act so in virtue of the same revelation of their forms. Once we knew about them that they had a certain form, we know that they were different from us and our words. Therefore, we feel the fear of being close to a strange reality or the sorrow of finding that we are totally different from it.

Though in the words related to sexual desire we also use to see the males or females according to their forms, the humans limited to their bodily forms are creations of our sexual words. They cause us fears of being close to a strange reality only when they affirm their own personality. They do this when they start to talk to us about themselves or about their feelings for us. Therefore, the words of love we uttered or heard in a love affair seem strange when we are not involved into it any longer. As long as we are involved, it cannot be grasped a clear image of our lovers.