I Rightly Pass For An Atheist.

There Is Nothing Outside Of The Text. [fr., Il N'y A Pas De Hors-texte.]

As Soon As We Cease To Believe In Such An Engineer And In A Discourse Which Breaks With The Received Historical Discourse, And As Soon As We Admit That Every Finite Discourse Is Bound By A Certain Bricolage And That The Engineer And The Scientist Are Also Species Of Bricoleurs , Then The Very Idea Of Bricolage Is Menaced And The Difference In Which It Took On Its Meaning Breaks Down.

The Blindness That Opens The Eye Is Not The One That Darkens Vision. Tears And Not Sight Are The Essence Of The Eye.

The Trace I Leave To Me Means At Once My Death, To Come Or Already Come, And The Hope That It Will Survive Me. It Is Not An Ambition Of Immortality; It Is Fundamental. I Leave Here A Bit Of Paper, I Leave, I Die; It Is Impossible To Exit This Structure; It Is The Unchanging Form Of My Life. Every Time I Let Something Go, I Live My Death In Writing.

Psychoanalysis Has Taught That The Dead – A Dead Parent, For Example – Can Be More Alive For Us, More Powerful, More Scary, Than The Living. It Is The Question Of Ghosts.