MALOLA diary

Saturday, 31
my Yogi tea saying for today: La vie est une chance. L'amour est infini. La grâce est la réalité.
------------
SS 12/25/65 Duchamp: "I don't care what my paintings (etc.) look like - I care about the idea that is expressed".

Friday, 30
jealousy (jail-ousy) is still my most painful and stubborn opponent
-----------------
A women's Band from Basel I used to work with long time ago announced an event called: Fremde Torten im falschen Paradies what means as much Foreign/Strange tarts (in German Torte it is a slang expression for girls you want to diss) in the Wrong Paradise... could they mean me in Switzerland or Gambia?
----------------
he couldn't stay longer than 4 days. I thought I was the reason why he left. I was very depressed, like paralysed, then drank and smoked as much as I could (to destroy myself or to forget or just to get rid of my depression?)
----------

Fifty years ago Susan Sontag (aged 32) wrote in her diary:
11/29/65
Weekend with Jasper
Nothing that's said is true (though one can be the truth)
Long silences. Words weigh more, become palpable. I feel my physical presence in an given space when I talk less.
Of everything that's said, one can ask: why? (including why should I say that)
Everything becomes mysterious with Jasper. i think - I don't just either opine or give (solicit information)
Intelligence is not necessarily a good thing, something to value or cultivate. It's more like a fifth wheel - necessary or desirable when things break down. When things go well, it's better to be stupid... Stupidity is as much value as intelligence.
Don't generalize. Not: I always or usually do this or that, but: I did then. Also: don't predict your future behavior. You don't know what you are going to do or feel in that situation (or. what that situation will be like) And don't, don't invite other people to generalize about themselves.
Good question: what is that man doing? (now) Do you (now) want it? etc.
The unpleasantness of the feedback- other people's reactions to my work, admiring or advers. I don't want to react to that. I'm critical enough (+ I know better what's wrong)
The good thing about saying "it's beautiful" of a work of art is that when you say that you aren't saying anything.
I like to feel dumb. That's how I know there is more in the world than me.
What does it mean to say: Please go over there. Where?
Because you stink
Because I want to take your picture
Because I want to play ball with you
Because I want that beam to fall on your head
Jasper doesn't like things to be decided. (Kozloff's article: Duchamp is this, he's that; Duchamp is this, he's that). It closes things off.
If you decide they're not closed, they're not.
From G Stein -
It is the destiny of a work of to become a classic. The principal characteristic of a classic is that it's beautiful.
But it's also the destiny of a work of art to become dead.
"Art" (+ "work of art") are categories as arbitrary + artificial as "nature" - a painting + a novel have little in common- no more than a mountain + a running brook
Bionics (new science that attempts to equate animal behavior + senses with instrumental and technological counterparts
Bioluminescence (in plants + animals)

Thursday, 29
a memory: his mother took my arm to relax from dancing... like to say: you are old enough to watch.
--------------------
We, two men and two women, had a conversation about the sexual necessities of each gender. In my eyes men and women had the same emotional perception of love. I had started that chat by talking about Byung Chul Han Agonie des Eros. Then, coming to consider sexuality the three others convinced me of this big difference between men and women. They asserted male beings needed more sexual satisfaction than their female counterpart. In brief, by their genitals' biological composition men were more likely to get easilier aroused, because the sperm in the man's testicles would push to discharge. Further, for this very reason, to accomplish that assignment of freeing themselves from their biologically based sexual pressure men devised prostitutes as a means of managing their amount of spunk (the origin of our society's prostitutes entitlement). To conclude, women are more responsible for a man's fulfilled sex life, rather than the other way round. I have to think about. I am not really persuaded, because I miss a woman's right of living her Eros.

Tuesday, 27
doucement = slowly, what means slow is sweet

Monday, 26
It is not my intention to complain about the people who give work to me. For, they ensure the financial basis of my existence. I am thankful for it. No, it is to express how bad I feel about myself that I haven't made a better career. That I haven't succeeded in my already long life being involved in larger artistic projects (exhibitions, panels, philosohpic studies, researches). My weakness not being able to take part in a society of professionals and officials, from which as soon as I merely touch its periphery I feel thrown apart to my roots of pettiness, arises from anxieties of a distorted self-perception caused by hypersensitivity... And??? It is never too late to change. My strategy.

Saturday, 24
- my cashier job makes me ugly -

Friday, 23
a memory: at the age of thirteen or fourteen I loved printed T-shirts. Something new that times. I wanted a special one, so I sewed a yellow star on my red T-shirt. I loved it and kept it for years. Doesn't sound very interesting, but for me it is a sweet memory.
----------------
Recently, a term that I had almost forgotten suddenly came to my mind: Platonic Love. In the mid seventies during my high school time we used that term quite often in order to express our relationship to a close person, who was a friend but sexuality had been a taboo (talking about by reference to others was alright).
What to find in Wikipedia:
Platonic love is a type of love that is chaste and non-sexual. The term is named after Plato, who was the first to describe this kind of love.
Platonic love in this original sense of the term is examined in Plato's dialogue the Symposium, which has as its topic the subject of love or Eros generally. It explains the possibilities of how the feeling of love began and how it has evolved — both sexually and non-sexually. Of particular importance is the speech of Socrates, relating the idea of platonic love as attributed to the prophetess Diotima, which presents it as a means of ascent to contemplation of the divine. For Diotima, and for Plato generally, the most correct use of love of other human beings is to direct one's mind to love of divinity.
In short, with genuine platonic love, the beautiful or lovely other person inspires the mind and the soul and directs one's attention to spiritual things. Socrates, in Plato's "Symposium", explained two types of love or Eros — Vulgar Eros or earthly love and Divine Eros or divine love. Vulgar Eros is nothing but mere material attraction towards a beautiful body for physical pleasure and reproduction. Divine Eros begins the journey from physical attraction i.e. attraction towards beautiful form or body but transcends gradually to love for Supreme Beauty. This concept of Divine Eros is later transformed into the term Platonic love. This term also exists in Sufism although the word used to define it is often taken as Ishq-e-Haqeeqi.

Thursday, 22
MJ: Actually. Dont study just read. Don't try to analyse just read a lot of different types of writing. Then write freely as you feel.

---------------------
I have nice people at work who I can talk to. They were there for me to listen to my rage. It was this incident that had made me crazy: we got a letter from the tax office last days where they asked us to fill in a form about our expenses in 14. It is that we don't lead a life of luxury. No, our life isn't easy at all. Up and down always. I asked myself why they cannot leave struggling people, who are already on the edge. Of course, it is money they are searching for. They think there must be some money around that belongs to them, in their eyes. Isn't that an intention of stealing on legal levels from people who have less than them? Doesn't our system make people sit on their money instead of sharing what can be shared deliberately?
However, I think one day they will control homeless people (I know they already control people who get welfare from the social security. Them, they have to report to their office when somebody invited them for dinner. i ask mysef about the dignity of such a person. To me that looks like total control, no private life.) You see my point? Poor people not only live from hand to mouth, but in their already cold life they get controled if there wasn't a remnant of happiness to find to take away from them.

Tuesday, 20
Once I wrote (brainlessly) that I don't have time to write a book. The truth is that I am not capable to do so. What I want to say is that i love to read books and that I adore all writers who need to and do write books, because they materialise what is inside them. Thus they share thoughts and ideas and their ability to work on a clamant or prior content with us, who spend sweet or eyeopening hours of diving into a world to get to understand and to learn about humanitiy.

Monday, 19
a dream during a powernap: i am searching a name for a file to save a particular emotion on my computer

Sunday, 18
a relaxed free Sunday reading Mabanckou's Letter to Jimmy
--------------------------------
Looking out of my window in Basel I see a young woman sitting on a bench obviously waiting for someone. Two passing women are looking at her and laughing, looging back at her and laughing again. Isn't it easy to laugh about others when you are the majority letting the one being for her own feel her awkwardness?
--------------------------------

Lagos Makoko Floating School

--------------------------------
A post from Facebook
Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.

Saturday, 17
During a conversation about my project in The Gambia friends gave me a hint about what I wrote in February 09 about Okwui Enwezor, Simon Njami, Achille Mbembe and Sarah Nuttal wasn't expressed the right way. What I wrote was that I stumbled about them. They said one doesn't stumble about people like them. I replied that I was and probably still am this kind of person - stumbling through life. Of course I see their point. But I am 100% sure it was not meant disrespectfully. On the contrary, it was that I couldn't imagine I ever had the chance to meet them. Further my friends criticised me for perceiving hierarchies in a way that rather lock doors than open them. A Kafkaesque point of view that should be outdated nowadays...
-----------
an exhibtion I am going to see: Après Eden

Friday, 16
It's true that when I recognise an opportunity as such, afterwards, by realising something would have been achievable what I perceived as unfeasable gives me the grievous taste of folornness.
-------------------
Criticising always means to challenge inherent structures. Following others in their backwash is obviously easier as no cross current would disturb. Though to catch a comfortable sight forward is refused unless you enjoy watching the stern.
--------------------
my Yogi Tea Joie de Vivre, which I bought at my last stay in Paris, message for today: L'amour est extase.

Thursday, 15
We were talking about mistakes. She said to me concerning a relationship I had made a mistake. I replied to her that for me, it hadn't been a mistake, but an experience i made. Mistakes to me happen there where defined rules are existing like in maths and spelling and even there changes happen. An experience means to find out about something you haven't known before. To be able to comprehend and contemplate this something is the fruit of experience.

Wednesday, 14
-actually, I feel like I don't exist- an idea that suddenly came to my mind and surprised me, because I could imagine that I don't exist (and never have existed). Very interesting. That is again the timemachine idea, but the first time I kinda felt it. Now everybody takes me for crazy. I am not and I wouldn't care if I had never existed. I tell you. But I don't wish for it. I like the real material world that exists and don't want it to be atomised easily. It shall be strong and earthy.
---------------------------------
In brief, in short, as I have said, in other words... up and down.

Tuesday, 13
i see myself among hundreds of others who are same important.
------------------------
I love the brake, the drag that drives me to desperation. No way back (we cannot change the past, only its understanding may change the view and therefore our intuition), my track forward encrypted. Every stop of a too long reasoning means death.

Monday, 12
when I am not able to be patient, when I can't wait - I learned waiting the last decades (the time I arrived in Switzerland people told me everything was happening slow) - life seems to be shorter, because I assume i don't have time.
(the bricks to build, the plants to be removed - since months we've been talking about)

Sunday, 11
The question is not what I want, but how can I realise what I want.
-------------------
Being down/cool I like most. No voluptuous emotions, nor tears of joy, nor intellectuel digressions. No fake smile. Simply contemplating the world how it is.

Friday, 9
- looking at the mirror and saving yourself -
------------
i am a spider caught in my own net - in my eyes louise bourgeoise perfectly expressed how it feels being regarded as such. different i's (one day you are intelligent, next day stupid, one day famous the other day a common citizen) you are old but you are part of society still - what to do is to accept your self. i am no spider, but a human being that is still alive. call it messi or whatever. i am the director of my existence.
---------------------------------------------------
--------
Shaking hands can be more sensitive than kisses on the cheeks. You look the other one into the eyes and size up the appearance, while the hands meet and touch the skin. Some are soft, some have hard hands from work. Kissing seems to be sometimes too close, a closeness that stays formal and is arbitrary to the very state of relationship in that moment.

Thursday, 8
My desire to live an intensive life had been always there, but the necessicity to cover my daily living squeezed me into occupations whose stupidity rinsed all inspiration direction the realm of pettiness and irrelevlance... (I can't - Immanuel Kant - Critique of Practical Reason)
--------------------
I feel older than old. Coffee and Cirgarettes.
And lost in translation (sunset in Venice - who the fuck is romantic?)

Tuesday, 6
censorship - what I write should be wise. i prohibit myself to write or talk like a teenager. but, the young by thinking sensible and pragmatic are oftenly much wiser than us elders. while we know more about life through experience and are able to perceive various metalevels and their tinges, we tend to expand verbosely and get bogged down in details.

Sunday, 4
the male and the female, her or him - Some years ago, I watched a documentation in tv about a man in Germany, born male, defined man by his genitals. He claimed to be registered as woman, because he felt like a woman. He said he didn't want an operation to change his sex. Indeed, he assured that he was not willing to mutilate his body, a pressure most of transsexual people have to undergo, although it bears risks of damage and high costs. That he completely turned his approach to define a person as man or woman delighted me much.

Saturday, 3
I hate about myself the longing for a general understanding of my very personal life (you see how egocentric I am); that people know about me, are interested how I am, how I grew up, what I am doing at the moment, how I think and so on... I'd rather my emotions governed my way of thinking by neutralising themselves and let the thought be ojective as much as possible.

Friday, 2
What I find difficult about writing here compared to an analog notebook is to search. In case I don't know if I have already written about a certain instance, I can neither browse the pages quickly nor look for a handwriting or a structure I could have kept in mind. The risk to become repetitive is highly given... but who cares? More important seems to me the confidence what I am writing makes somehow sense or not, sometimes i don't know.

Thursday, 1
Once somebody asked me: Are you writing from the future? A question that frequently comes to my mind and always lets me feel that there is something I really never will realise. I can write on plans and ideas that will happen in future, and by doing so kinda preparing the future, but the act of writing stays in the present and the written becomes past (different from fiction, which is not connected to our physical time, but is situated in the endless frame of imagination, where time is defined by the writer). On the other hand I am free to question things I wrote in the past. This is a diary, notebook, blog, whatever, where I speak out things that occupy me in that very moment. It is something immediate, not reflected.

diary > october 15

Lagos Saturday, 31 my Yogi tea saying for today: La vie est une chance. L'amour est infini. La grâce est la réalité. ------------ SS 12/25/65 Duchamp: "I don't care what my paintings (etc.) look like - I care about the idea that is expressed". Friday, 30 jealousy (jail-ousy) is still my most painful and stubborn opponent ----------------- A women's Band from Basel I used to work with long time ago announced an event called: Fremde Torten im falschen Paradies what means as much Foreign/Strange tarts (in German Torte it is a slang expression for girls you want to diss) in the Wrong Paradise... could they mean me in Switzerland or Gambia? ---------------- he couldn't stay longer than 4 days. I thought I was the reason why he left. I was very depressed, like paralysed, then drank and smoked as much as I could (to destroy myself or to forget or just to get rid of my depression?) ---------- Fifty years ago Susan Sontag (aged 32) wrote in her diary: 11/29/65 Weekend with Jasper Nothing that's said is true (though one can be the truth) Long silences. Words weigh more, become palpable. I feel my physical presence in an given space when I talk less. Of everything that's said, one can ask: why? (including why should I say that) Everything becomes mysterious with Jasper. i think - I don't just either opine or give (solicit information) Intelligence is not necessarily a good thing, something to value or cultivate. It's more like a fifth wheel - necessary or desirable when things break down. When things go well, it's better to be stupid... Stupidity is as much value as intelligence. Don't generalize. Not: I always or usually do this or that, but: I did then. Also: don't predict your future behavior. You don't know what you are going to do or feel in that situation (or. what that situation will be like) And don't, don't invite other people to generalize about themselves. Good question: what is that man doing? (now) Do you (now) want it? etc. The unpleasantness of the feedback- other people's reactions to my work, admiring or advers. I don't want to react to that. I'm critical enough (+ I know better what's wrong) The good thing about saying "it's beautiful" of a work of art is that when you say that you aren't saying anything. I like to feel dumb. That's how I know there is more in the world than me. What does it mean to say: Please go over there. Where? Because you stink Because I want to take your picture Because I want to play ball with you Because I want that beam to fall on your head Jasper doesn't like things to be decided. (Kozloff's article: Duchamp is this, he's that; Duchamp is this, he's that). It closes things off. If you decide they're not closed, they're not. From G Stein - It is the destiny of a work of to become a classic. The principal characteristic of a classic is that it's beautiful. But it's also the destiny of a work of art to become dead. "Art" (+ "work of art") are categories as arbitrary + artificial as "nature" - a painting + a novel have little in common- no more than a mountain + a running brook Bionics (new science that attempts to equate animal behavior + senses with instrumental and technological counterparts Bioluminescence (in plants + animals) Thursday, 29 a memory: his mother took my arm to relax from dancing... like to say: you are old enough to watch. -------------------- We, two men and two women, had a conversation about the sexual necessities of each gender. In my eyes men and women had the same emotional perception of love. I had started that chat by talking about Byung Chul Han Agonie des Eros. Then, coming to consider sexuality the three others convinced me of this big difference between men and women. They asserted male beings needed more sexual satisfaction than their female counterpart. In brief, by their genitals' biological composition men were more likely to get easilier aroused, because the sperm in the man's testicles would push to discharge. Further, for this very reason, to accomplish that assignment of freeing themselves from their biologically based sexual pressure men devised prostitutes as a means of managing their amount of spunk (the origin of our society's prostitutes entitlement). To conclude, women are more responsible for a man's fulfilled sex life, rather than the other way round. I have to think about. I am not really persuaded, because I miss a woman's right of living her Eros. Tuesday, 27 doucement = slowly, what means slow is sweet Monday, 26 It is not my intention to complain about the people who give work to me. For, they ensure the financial basis of my existence. I am thankful for it. No, it is to express how bad I feel about myself that I haven't made a better career. That I haven't succeeded in my already long life being involved in larger artistic projects (exhibitions, panels, philosohpic studies, researches). My weakness not being able to take part in a society of professionals and officials, from which as soon as I merely touch its periphery I feel thrown apart to my roots of pettiness, arises from anxieties of a distorted self-perception caused by hypersensitivity... And??? It is never too late to change. My strategy. Saturday, 24 - my cashier job makes me ugly - Friday, 23 a memory: at the age of thirteen or fourteen I loved printed T-shirts. Something new that times. I wanted a special one, so I sewed a yellow star on my red T-shirt. I loved it and kept it for years. Doesn't sound very interesting, but for me it is a sweet memory. ---------------- Recently, a term that I had almost forgotten suddenly came to my mind: Platonic Love. In the mid seventies during my high school time we used that term quite often in order to express our relationship to a close person, who was a friend but sexuality had been a taboo (talking about by reference to others was alright). What to find in Wikipedia: Platonic love is a type of love that is chaste and non-sexual. The term is named after Plato, who was the first to describe this kind of love. Platonic love in this original sense of the term is examined in Plato's dialogue the Symposium, which has as its topic the subject of love or Eros generally. It explains the possibilities of how the feeling of love began and how it has evolved — both sexually and non-sexually. Of particular importance is the speech of Socrates, relating the idea of platonic love as attributed to the prophetess Diotima, which presents it as a means of ascent to contemplation of the divine. For Diotima, and for Plato generally, the most correct use of love of other human beings is to direct one's mind to love of divinity. In short, with genuine platonic love, the beautiful or lovely other person inspires the mind and the soul and directs one's attention to spiritual things. Socrates, in Plato's "Symposium", explained two types of love or Eros — Vulgar Eros or earthly love and Divine Eros or divine love. Vulgar Eros is nothing but mere material attraction towards a beautiful body for physical pleasure and reproduction. Divine Eros begins the journey from physical attraction i.e. attraction towards beautiful form or body but transcends gradually to love for Supreme Beauty. This concept of Divine Eros is later transformed into the term Platonic love. This term also exists in Sufism although the word used to define it is often taken as Ishq-e-Haqeeqi. Thursday, 22 MJ: Actually. Dont study just read. Don't try to analyse just read a lot of different types of writing. Then write freely as you feel. --------------------- I have nice people at work who I can talk to. They were there for me to listen to my rage. It was this incident that had made me crazy: we got a letter from the tax office last days where they asked us to fill in a form about our expenses in 14. It is that we don't lead a life of luxury. No, our life isn't easy at all. Up and down always. I asked myself why they cannot leave struggling people, who are already on the edge. Of course, it is money they are searching for. They think there must be some money around that belongs to them, in their eyes. Isn't that an intention of stealing on legal levels from people who have less than them? Doesn't our system make people sit on their money instead of sharing what can be shared deliberately? However, I think one day they will control homeless people (I know they already control people who get welfare from the social security. Them, they have to report to their office when somebody invited them for dinner. i ask mysef about the dignity of such a person. To me that looks like total control, no private life.) You see my point? Poor people not only live from hand to mouth, but in their already cold life they get controled if there wasn't a remnant of happiness to find to take away from them. Tuesday, 20 Once I wrote (brainlessly) that I don't have time to write a book. The truth is that I am not capable to do so. What I want to say is that i love to read books and that I adore all writers who need to and do write books, because they materialise what is inside them. Thus they share thoughts and ideas and their ability to work on a clamant or prior content with us, who spend sweet or eyeopening hours of diving into a world to get to understand and to learn about humanitiy. Monday, 19 a dream during a powernap: i am searching a name for a file to save a particular emotion on my computer Sunday, 18 a relaxed free Sunday reading Mabanckou's Letter to Jimmy -------------------------------- Looking out of my window in Basel I see a young woman sitting on a bench obviously waiting for someone. Two passing women are looking at her and laughing, looging back at her and laughing again. Isn't it easy to laugh about others when you are the majority letting the one being for her own feel her awkwardness? -------------------------------- Lagos Makoko Floating School -------------------------------- A post from Facebook Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always. Saturday, 17 During a conversation about my project in The Gambia friends gave me a hint about what I wrote in February 09 about Okwui Enwezor, Simon Njami, Achille Mbembe and Sarah Nuttal wasn't expressed the right way. What I wrote was that I stumbled about them. They said one doesn't stumble about people like them. I replied that I was and probably still am this kind of person - stumbling through life. Of course I see their point. But I am 100% sure it was not meant disrespectfully. On the contrary, it was that I couldn't imagine I ever had the chance to meet them. Further my friends criticised me for perceiving hierarchies in a way that rather lock doors than open them. A Kafkaesque point of view that should be outdated nowadays... ----------- an exhibtion I am going to see: Après Eden Friday, 16 It's true that when I recognise an opportunity as such, afterwards, by realising something would have been achievable what I perceived as unfeasable gives me the grievous taste of folornness. ------------------- Criticising always means to challenge inherent structures. Following others in their backwash is obviously easier as no cross current would disturb. Though to catch a comfortable sight forward is refused unless you enjoy watching the stern. -------------------- my Yogi Tea Joie de Vivre, which I bought at my last stay in Paris, message for today: L'amour est extase. Thursday, 15 We were talking about mistakes. She said to me concerning a relationship I had made a mistake. I replied to her that for me, it hadn't been a mistake, but an experience i made. Mistakes to me happen there where defined rules are existing like in maths and spelling and even there changes happen. An experience means to find out about something you haven't known before. To be able to comprehend and contemplate this something is the fruit of experience. Wednesday, 14 -actually, I feel like I don't exist- an idea that suddenly came to my mind and surprised me, because I could imagine that I don't exist (and never have existed). Very interesting. That is again the timemachine idea, but the first time I kinda felt it. Now everybody takes me for crazy. I am not and I wouldn't care if I had never existed. I tell you. But I don't wish for it. I like the real material world that exists and don't want it to be atomised easily. It shall be strong and earthy. --------------------------------- In brief, in short, as I have said, in other words... up and down. Tuesday, 13 i see myself among hundreds of others who are same important. ------------------------ I love the brake, the drag that drives me to desperation. No way back (we cannot change the past, only its understanding may change the view and therefore our intuition), my track forward encrypted. Every stop of a too long reasoning means death. Monday, 12 when I am not able to be patient, when I can't wait - I learned waiting the last decades (the time I arrived in Switzerland people told me everything was happening slow) - life seems to be shorter, because I assume i don't have time. (the bricks to build, the plants to be removed - since months we've been talking about) Sunday, 11 The question is not what I want, but how can I realise what I want. ------------------- Being down/cool I like most. No voluptuous emotions, nor tears of joy, nor intellectuel digressions. No fake smile. Simply contemplating the world how it is. Friday, 9 - looking at the mirror and saving yourself - ------------ i am a spider caught in my own net - in my eyes louise bourgeoise perfectly expressed how it feels being regarded as such. different i's (one day you are intelligent, next day stupid, one day famous the other day a common citizen) you are old but you are part of society still - what to do is to accept your self. i am no spider, but a human being that is still alive. call it messi or whatever. i am the director of my existence. --------------------------------------------------- -------- Shaking hands can be more sensitive than kisses on the cheeks. You look the other one into the eyes and size up the appearance, while the hands meet and touch the skin. Some are soft, some have hard hands from work. Kissing seems to be sometimes too close, a closeness that stays formal and is arbitrary to the very state of relationship in that moment. Thursday, 8 My desire to live an intensive life had been always there, but the necessicity to cover my daily living squeezed me into occupations whose stupidity rinsed all inspiration direction the realm of pettiness and irrelevlance... (I can't - Immanuel Kant - Critique of Practical Reason) -------------------- I feel older than old. Coffee and Cirgarettes. And lost in translation (sunset in Venice - who the fuck is romantic?) Tuesday, 6 censorship - what I write should be wise. i prohibit myself to write or talk like a teenager. but, the young by thinking sensible and pragmatic are oftenly much wiser than us elders. while we know more about life through experience and are able to perceive various metalevels and their tinges, we tend to expand verbosely and get bogged down in details. Sunday, 4 the male and the female, her or him - Some years ago, I watched a documentation in tv about a man in Germany, born male, defined man by his genitals. He claimed to be registered as woman, because he felt like a woman. He said he didn't want an operation to change his sex. Indeed, he assured that he was not willing to mutilate his body, a pressure most of transsexual people have to undergo, although it bears risks of damage and high costs. That he completely turned his approach to define a person as man or woman delighted me much. Saturday, 3 I hate about myself the longing for a general understanding of my very personal life (you see how egocentric I am); that people know about me, are interested how I am, how I grew up, what I am doing at the moment, how I think and so on... I'd rather my emotions governed my way of thinking by neutralising themselves and let the thought be ojective as much as possible. Friday, 2 What I find difficult about writing here compared to an analog notebook is to search. In case I don't know if I have already written about a certain instance, I can neither browse the pages quickly nor look for a handwriting or a structure I could have kept in mind. The risk to become repetitive is highly given... but who cares? More important seems to me the confidence what I am writing makes somehow sense or not, sometimes i don't know. Thursday, 1 Once somebody asked me: Are you writing from the future? A question that frequently comes to my mind and always lets me feel that there is something I really never will realise. I can write on plans and ideas that will happen in future, and by doing so kinda preparing the future, but the act of writing stays in the present and the written becomes past (different from fiction, which is not connected to our physical time, but is situated in the endless frame of imagination, where time is defined by the writer). On the other hand I am free to question things I wrote in the past. This is a diary, notebook, blog, whatever, where I speak out things that occupy me in that very moment. It is something immediate, not reflected.