Lo que vale un peine

16 agosto, 2016

Nada más triste que saber que uno sabe escribir, pero que no necesita decir nada de particular, nada en particular, ni a los demás ni a sí mismo. Vale.

Jaime Gil de Biedma, Diarios, (1956-1985).

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Alejandra Pizarnik (1936-1972)

30 abril, 2016

Planes para cuarenta días:
1. Comenzar la novela.
2. Terminar los libros de Proust.
3. Leer a Heidegger.
4. No beber.
5. Nada de actos violentos.
6. Estudiar gramática y francés.

Alejandra Pizarnik: Diarios, Cuaderno de 1955.
Ed. Ana Becciú, Lumen, 2013.


8. February, 1841

21 octubre, 2013

My Journal is that of me which else would spill over and run to waste, gleanings from the field which in action I reap. I must not live for it, but in it for the gods. They are my correspondent, to whom daily I send off this sheet postpaid.

(Mi Diario es esa parte de mí que, de no escribirse, se derramaría y se desperdiciaría; espigas del campo que cosecho con mis actos. No debo vivir para él sino en él para los dioses. Es a ellos a quienes dirijo mi correspondencia, a quienes envío diariamente esta carta franqueada.)

Henry David Thoreau, Journal.


Yo, que tantas mujeres he sido #5

14 octubre, 2013

Hiroshi Yamazaki serie sol mar

Cuando logro vencer la animalesca pulsión de silencio y autoborrado que me parece tan lógica la mayor parte de las veces, escribo en mi diario. Lo escribo para engendrarme a mí misma como lectora a través del tiempo, para determinar ese momento lejano en el que me siente a leerlo extrañada y desdoblada en comunicación centrípeta.


Jouer le jeu (dealing with Carlotta)

16 agosto, 2013

2/10/70  New York

I haven’t so many alternatives as I thought -in fact, only two: uproot the feeling, tell her to go to hell—or jouer le jeu.

Of course, it will be the second. The age of innocence is over.

This is not the end of the story—only the beginning of Phase Three.

(…)

The time of playing the game. Carlotta cannot be the center of my life, only (possibly) part of a plural center that will include work, friends, other affairs. (…)

I must appear to be strong—which means that I really must be strong. I must not offer her my suffering, my longing for her, as a proof of my love. I must not even tell her so often that I love her.(…)

I must be strong, permissive, unreproachful, capable of joy (independently of her), able to take care of my own needs (but playing down my ability, or wish, to take care of hers). Remember what she said the other day about finding me so different from the way I appeared at first (autonomous, “cool”)? It was that person she was originally attracted to. She must still sense that in me from time to time. I cannot ever show her all my weakness. I must limit my thirst for candor.

I cannot persuade her with words to love me, to trust me, to be with me. It must be done with actions. She must come to me freely. I must act as if I expect her to do that—but not say it, above all not ask her to confirm it.

Susan Sontag, As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh.


The desire to sink down

5 agosto, 2013

8/3/1967

Body images.

A defended body, full of violence.

A body defined by its constant struggle to cope with the pull of gravity. Struggling against the desire to sink down, lie down, fold up. Having to “will” being erect.

(Spine, neck, etc.)

Susan Sontag, As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh, 2012.