NAUSEA by Emily Godden

NAUSEA

AUDIT CHAOS

NAUSEA A series of poems on the theme of existence written by Audit Chaos

CHAOS BOOKS

CHAOS BOOKS PUBLISHED BY AUDIT CHAOS

PUBLISHED BY CHAOS BOOKS, IPSWICH, ENGLAND

1ST PUBLISHED SEPTEMBER 2014

ISBN — 978-1-326-00923-6

0140181806

9780241950050

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9780141185132

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9780141185231

NAUSEA V.I

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I mustn’t put strangeness where there’s nothing. If only I knew what I was frightened of. Something has happened to me – I can’t doubt that anymore. I know all that, but I know that there’s Something else. I try in vain to re-join the past – I cannot escape from myself.

Nothing has changed and yet everything Exists in a different wayThen time started flowing again and the Emptiness grew larger. My Existence was beginning to cause me Serious concern, There was nothing in it that Wasn’t present…

…was it a dream?

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I don’t know - It may have been yesterday. After having my eyes closed there wasn’t a shadow to be seen. I found it hard to believe that they really existed.

There was no way out.

For want of something to do I watched the sky, I was going to go back – after all nothing changed. I was conscious; the sky was green and I felt happy.

I’ve got no reason to say anything,

I said you could never tell… I always evaded the question, it didn’t mean anything. I felt completely empty, they were looking at us in silence,

It was hard to breathe.

I knew nothing, I wasn’t thinking – it annoyed me, I ended up not saying anything, it would come to the same thing. It distorted my feelings; I was just like everyone else.

I’m sure you’ll help me to understand… The typewriter, which had followed the entire conversation Caught up with the last few sentences.

It was an idea I just couldn’t get used to.

I began to breathe again, it took me a few seconds to adjustI found the noise quite painful, I mustn’t exaggerate.

Usually no one took any notice of me.

I was conscious of being watched, There was complete silence… You have to understand – But no one seemed to understand.

Keep quiet, it’s better for you.

I managed quite well, you end up getting used to everything,

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I’d like to wish you something in return.

I need to forget myself for a bit.

We hadn’t anything to talk about,

I like you better as you are,

I had a sort of feeling today that

Are you really sure?

I’d like to remind myself of those times.

Nothing remained but words.

It meant something.

The white light switched on again.

You’re so afraid of anything sentimental

This was the moment of awakening

You’re so absurdly scared!

It was only an image,

You imagine you aren’t what you see

Without a beginning or end

You imagine you are nothing.

It hangs in empty space.

If I didn’t try-

They were anonymous objects.

I should think it absurd to go on living.

There were anxieties of the day before.

Silence fell. It has happened.

Nothing could prevent it from having been,

You can’t do anything.

Nothing remained but periods of waiting

There were great blank spaces-

Can people tell each other everything?

Consciousness remained.

The conversation has taken place-

I didn’t understand what I was doing,

I shall simply fade out of their minds,

It was absolutely impossible to delay

Into empty space.

That question. It’s nothing at all.

There’s nothing to explain, I know.

Is that what I am?

There’s no longer any question.

I am my own beginning.

All this was in the order of things.

You must make up your mind

There was nothing more to say-

I think it’s odd to be so sure.

I remain alone.

Then a door slammed withinThese were surface thoughts Split into two entities.

Something was on the threshold of existence

Your time isn’t your own, I’ve finally lost all sense of realityLet me breathe.

You are before your time.

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The general opinion was that they were misplaced. Of course, there is nothing more normal nowadays. They’re coming out: have you seen? Everything will be better, Things like that happen, They expired – hanging in the void. Nothing was moving, we must help one another.

Freed from the dull sense of foreboding This was where fear began and with it, serious reflection. There was no point. No one thought to do anything. Divided between anxiety and confidence I could barely feel the first stirrings of that slight nausea. The measures that been taken were insufficient.

It would not be defeated- in appearance nothing changed. Void of sense, unable to react against the wounds Imagination eventually inflicts on those who trust in it. This was exile. We understood one another. You are talking the language of reason, It still did not entirely accord with reality.

It was designed to operate in this way, to fade away… Everything was sacrificed to efficiency, in truth Everything became present, there was only the here and now. This whole time was nothing more than a long sleep. The explanation had to be found for it, It was and yet it wasn’t. The others said nothing.

Everything would begin again as though nothing had happened. The distant sound of silence was total.

You could hear the freedom.

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Individual days no longer seemed to exist There was nothing but next days. What else could be done? I found myself faced by a situation. I can’t believe it I remember it so well, It seemed odd that anyone could be happy. They were waiting for nothing, life would resume.

People passed and did not see it What are you thinking about? They have nothing to decide, nothing to expect I don’t mind being silent, I’m afraid it’s true. I can hear them. I can’t invent things, It was a feeling of disillusion, the trouble isPeople won’t look reality in the face.

What do you suppose I’m thinking about? What are you thinking about? It did not exist, there’s no future in dreams, The future was here, overhead and all around. I’m nothing but a number, transparent I have already gone, we shall return. Back there I exist, don’t cry – it’s not good.

I was so happy here; I get ideas into my head.

I just can’t. I don’t recognize myself. There was no further decision to take, And yet each dimension was an autonomous Consciousness, the totality of all my thoughts. A new world was coming into being…

You aren’t really here at all, behind those eyes There is a starless sky formulating the present. I used to long to become invisible. I know at last that I am.

It’s always the same, why don’t I? Well,

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This has been going on too long:

It is only separated from progress.

Allow yourself to believe,

What does time matter? Nothing matters…

Impatience begins a reaction

It is not a question. In order to be understood

Infringed on something inside.

This type of objectivity has no meaning.

We know from this bitter experience

We cannot turn away – we still live today

It creates an extension of freedom.

I am tired. Let us try, we can still believe.

The disappearance of one is the

It cannot answer all questions -

Appearance of the other - We must

Justice is living.

Begin to exist. Suffering is the experience of Everyone- Then begins the desperate effort. Dreams have no limits, there is nothing to stop, The word forgiven sounds strange.

Nothing is more revealing. A dream returns chaos and confusion They are all alone – everything is void. I live in spite of logic, everything is connected The first step is to continueWe have not yet reached that point.

Imaginary meaning will spring paradoxical definition. We are alone, forever alone- empty forever Our aim is to create, this autonomy is absolute. Nothing is the answer to the question If everything is logical, everything is justified,

Condemned in advance these, Beautiful thoughts have realised meaning. We are again confronted with a concept The idea – it is the reflection, it is not sufficient. To exist was to act, from a fixed beginning, Towards a definite end.

Without beginning and without end.

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I wonder if I might venture to offer you some help? Believe me, I have forgotten nothing. Only answer if you don’t think I’m being inquisitive. Forgive me.

I wore my heart on my sleeve, I was aiming higher. Let’s say no more – I kept an eye open, free of all responsibility. I’ve never needed to learn how to live, I was in total harmony with life.

I felt I was something, but no- I was satisfied with nothing. I’m getting to it, don’t worry. In fact, I’m there. I was thinking of something else, It’s a conscious decision.

Sometimes I pretended, I lived from day to day with no continuity. My dream had not withstood the test of reality, I blamed myself. My impulses always turn inwardsMy power of forgetting gave me more freedom.

The heart of it lay in the painful and resigned assertion - that I was nothing. I lived my part, I myself experienced Only the shadow of these emotions. If we are to end, We must stop existing, I have no imagination.

We’re in the waiting room, no doubt you’re right. I merely continued to play my role, My life went on as though nothing had changed.

I was tormented by the idea that I might not have time to accomplish my task. We’re going forward, but nothing changes, I was still trapped, it had been waiting for me.

I am the end and the beginning, don’t they have The same meaning? I knew not what I did, I was wrong. The fall occurs… It will always be too late.

I knew my weakness, I felt vulnerable.

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It was a dream – no it wasn’t.

You’ll get used to it. There would be nothing But meaningless days and common sense. The large black and white page spoke to them; Of course the pressure is lessening. It’s all over now, what future was there? Just now I don’t believe in it all.

I want to see the others. What others? The ones who ask awkward questions. Pictures are just dreams, no one here is real. I’m not real. Silence fell between them. Even in the ultimate privacies of sleep it was lost. It’s just how things are – there was nothing you could do.

Defeat had become a part of everyday. The only thing that separated them was The flat surface of the canvas. Between now and tomorrow there’s only a night. There’s nothing I can do about it - don’t go too far. I can’t see you. What have my thoughts been doing?

Something was wrong. I think I understand. I know nothing about anything, the waiting’s the worst This is the beginning. They’re everywhere.

I know who you are; I rather think I’ve seen you. And you really believe that - what alternative was there?

I was beginning to get worried. This sort of talk was just words, you go along I may join you later; they were on the other side. They made no attempt to understand. What can I say? They don’t believe me. Everyone can make a mistake, I wasn’t so wrong was I?

We don’t count any longer, we live in a dream.

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All mention was forbidden.

The future existed, it was merely a deferred present.

Everything, eventually forgotten-

I let myself go and I discovered,

Trapped between silence; I was cured.

I would exploit this vein all my life. I often had this anxiety,

We were victims of misunderstanding,

I was intoxicated by a fabulous silence.

I regained consciousness.

I believed in these people who pretended to believe in me.

It gave me my freedom. I find it hard to tell,

Today I have progressed, because I have realised

Everything is dark, everyone asleep.

That I am progressing no longer.

I was afraid, I fought anxiety with ecstasy. In the void I would tear myself from nothingness. I would vanish into fresh air.

I never stopped creating myself. I believed in progress, I forgot myself. I found ideas more real than things, what was I to do? I relished understanding yet not understanding, I should never have written when I was alone.

I used to recite the list, existence was mistaken. Should I complain? Someone was watching me; These anxieties did not last. How sad it was. What I have just written is false. True. I cannot make my mind up about it.

Even when alone I was performing, I used to forget.

How can you act a part without knowing it? Nothing exists without a reason, I remained an abstraction. I felt myself become an object.

I found my profound uselessness even more obvious. I was free, I was â&#x20AC;&#x201C; normal. I was my own cause. I protected myself through the imagination. I loved seeing the invisible â&#x20AC;&#x201C; I was absolute I was the being in despair.

I had lost the chance of becoming real.

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Up above they were trying to reach Fear that would instantly vanish. What is it? I don’t know, We haven’t thought about it. I could picture nothing. In truth there was no order, only chaos The course of time itself was shattering. No one had known, like a stranger… But for someone who was nothing It was not too late.

I’ve never concerned myself with it, I would restrain myself from trying to learn more.

It doesn’t matter- You know where I am …come and see me if you need help. If you’d waited any longer you might Have found nothing there. We tear down and we rebuild. We think about the future People forget, but they’re waiting. The anonymous history cried from exhaustion The silence of anonymity, Was in the hands of the inexorable.

Existence was divided, you can’t just stay here doing nothing.

I know you find that hard to believe. You don’t believe me, and that is a fault in you. Let’s go on with our conversation: I have accomplished nothing. I owe everything, forgive me, For not knowing how to respond. There is a terrible emptinessForget the insomnia.

You were far away – I don’t know. I wouldn’t let myself do that There was no time, you could not tell -

I’m afraid it’ll stop.

Everyone was sleeping, beginning to fade. What was going on? Empty of memories Holding onto a few blurred images, A single anonymous shadow would emerge. I did not think about it, but in some sense lived it.

They’re like other people,

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NAUSEA V.II

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In order to keep a distance I picture the moment. We shall do a great deal once we run parallel with The metaphysical miracle as separate worlds of dreams. The appearance speaks to us, but when this dream Is most intense; this reality in which we live, Must include that delicate boundary in measured restraint.

Impulses are satisfied, to say nothing of the phenomena May wring sounds of agony; the annihilation of the veilDiscouraged and disappointed there is nothing here. How could they have endured existence? A perfect World? We do not consider the question of reality. An appearance of appearance is the counter appearance.

Invisible to those wrapped in floating sublime gestures, Running through the entire chromatic scale of passionsI have removed blissful peace into the stress of desire. I do not think I am unreasonable, in reality we must realize There is no longer any use in comfort in impregnable barriers. We must always remember a purely passive attitude.

Counterfeit passions and masked words exhibit a happy state. The invisible chorus yielded to their demands, let us thinkWe must first ask ourselves, who cares? Wait till it happens. Amid this flux of phenomena a comfort tears us in view, We are detained by the question, the ordinary essence.

They could abandon themselves in a true abstract.

It has been shaken by the fear of its own conclusions.

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I tried to shelter somewhere; to recover from myself,

The intention of influencing the masses from

How can something arise from its opposite truths?

Silent isolation to try the power of their lungs,

The separation into body and soul is the highest use,

I make myself impossible; the past is built on error.

Out of a concern for happiness there is nothing.

In these dangerous dreams innocent corruption

With negative qualities the harmless future

Is impossible, it breathes the exposure of weakness,

Stimulates images from the mind – visual impressions.

Negative advantages force our pain to freedom.

They must interpret this event correctly, prevail errorOur feelings of space and time are false conclusions. It is one of the disharmonies of existence – Knowledge can only allow pleasure and unpleasure, I could just as well imagine a different self-reflection; We forget an error called responsibility, called freedom.

To this extent it is erroneous, a shadow and untruthWe feel it more painfully when we ourselves do it. There is more happiness to be found than eyes see, Want of silence is universal; to be sure we suffer, We cut ourselves in order to cure ourselves – Each step in progress, each error, causes great pain.

If we imagine ourselves, there is nothing outside. A certain false psychology ceases to be, to exist; An opportunity relives itself by self-denial, it Takes over a number of moods and feelings – It lays a gauze over reality and unfinished thoughts.

The best has been inherited from feelings of time I am aquitted, take the side of the intellectually weak. It looks chaotic, haunted by ghosts of the futureThere is a gap in the logical untouched abstraction. We can separate sections as autonomous ironyA dialogue is the perfect conversation.

All must become experimenting imitators.

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Perhaps some play on words or patience has expanded

With all our dangerous curiosity, I now suggest change.

The will to truth; tempting us with questions,

They call it freedom, an indescribable anxiety perfecting

Is it any wonder we lose our patience- who is it?

Ourselves, a problem and refusal to let it approach.

The pause and doubt on the threshold speak seriously,

Signposts to the problem evoke dangerous and beautiful

Having read their lines I tell myself the ultimate goal-

Thoughts touching on what is to me – corruption,

There is nothing decided and decisive, itself a power.

Something fundamentally different, its sublime sacrifice.

It creates the world in its own image, the problem;

Let us at least be honest with ourselves.

There is disbelief in all that has been constructed-

There is a delight in the nuances of those who wait.

Nothing new or genuine we ought to acknowledge. Reality let us stop and reflect, the dream disappeared But is that an answer, an explanation, an interpretation? There are still harmless self-observers who still believe.

We ought to get free from the seduction of words, Let us therefore be cautious, consciousness adheres. Who obeys sensation, constraint, compulsion; ourselves? The power of prejudices has penetrated deepWhat strange simplification, free, easy and false. From the beginning we understood how to retain ignorance.

Instead of the consequences an inversion of perspectives In belief needs interpreting – we may adopt today. Nothing is given as real, except our world of desires; We can sink to no other reality, thinking is the relationship. A questionable question I could believe, the expression;

Still un-exhausted, repeat these beautiful words; A future bliss against nothingness is fear who exists. I listened for an echo, what we do in dreams we forget, Our conscience submits for the promotion of happiness. To ask again, is greatness – possible today? They imagine

of self-contradiction itself; the compass of inner experience.

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I must approach, I have been neither heard nor seen. The ice is near, the solitude terrible, I bid you lose meFind yourselves. Only when you have denied me, will I return. I lived through summer like a shadow, there is nothing wrong It is only I who discovered, I have never understood. I wait where I stand alone, what happened to me? How did I free myself from disgust to reflect On something out of which nothing grows. It was only sickness that brought me to reason-

I discovered all these abysses in myself It is like an afternoon in October, I don't know How I can avoid answering the question. I have the right to understand to say something Almost every sentence is the expression of idealism. The sound of the voice has completely changed, The ideal is not refuted, in vain I scanned my memories I was overcome with impatience at myself.

I stopped, then this idea came to me, a perhaps Insignificant symptom of the condition of this year. Pain does not count- the concept of revelation Becomes visible, audible - I have never had any choice. I was perfectly vigorous and perfectly patient, The task for the immediately following years was clear;

They have decided about me, with that there is nothing, Now they preserve their existence as much at the Expense of the truth, as at the expense of the future. Have I been understood? Have I been understood? Have I been understood?

They feel free to discuss everything I fear.

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To stay responsible casts a shadow all too oppressive That someone may notice. I avoid them; You are no more than an imitation, a sound of doubt. Let us not forget those auditory hallucinations; What is really happening when that happens?

Rationality was a saviour, yielding to the unconscious. Nothing has escaped from their hands, they all believe, They look for reasons, the cause of our falsification. Reality shall challenge contradiction, what is left? Living is no more than the symptom, the question-

We believed ourselves â&#x20AC;&#x201C; another error. We acknowledge, become conscious but nothing exists! They have the illusion beneath them, I fear the end. With us itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s different, its origin transcendental. Conscious of the conclusion, we grow beyond words.

-the hammer speaks.

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All expectations are false, we are still together. We drive through empty streets as if I didn’t existWe look up in the air; it’s the only thing that matters. Our conduct has unfortunately not been correct, There’s nothing to complain about.

An artificial wasteland has been created here, Nothing could be more natural, but during the pauses Everyone gazes. An invisible danger went past. At last I arrived; I was beginning to detect it in myself, I don’t know, was my soundless cry, I’ve done no harm.

Morning comes flooding back like an incoming tide, How persuasive in its power is the air? I’m standing. My place in this world feels the need for contact, I screamed to hear no answer; I’d like to close the door. To repeat, I really must ask you to stop it.

However close any stranger might come to you, Don’t be too sure; restlessness passed on. Everything called for haste, wasn’t there something? Do not misunderstand the situation, they’re my witnesses, It was no dream - I went back to sleep.

Falling from such a height did no damage, I think The best thing would be if we tried to forget.

This overworked an exhausted time had abstraction, There was nothing else to distract the eye.

Without being distracted by false whipserings, you believe. Today it cannot be denied, I was at a loss for something… That’s how it is; I wasn’t going to waste any time. They do not know our language, I wanted to sleep, I find myself unable to comply with your request.

I can still recall the sound; I have to be careful, I repeat, I felt no desire - I do not share the anxiety.

But at this point, reflections lingered no more,

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The true path is long, all human errors Stem from impatience; from paradise. There is no more turning back As yet nothing has happened, forcing The true explanation, you would be wrong.

I've never been here, it keeps happening, It can be calculated- flung a distance. There are innumerable hiding places, The positive is already within us. Not knowing is the fantasy...

An answer to my question I asked, They were offered the choice, belief In progress, in the constructed world. Everything is deception, a question We are living in a false belief, test yourself.

No one can be satisfied understanding alone, Perhaps withdrawal is suffering the void. You wouldn't be able to look it claimed, Don't wait, the whole world will be unmasked.

- It will writhe in ecstasy.

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Nothing could be seen, not a glimmer of presence There’s a silence that’s not certain yet- it was visible. The abrupt silence was no doubt pleasing, I’m a stranger, You’re no doubt surprised and delighted by these words. Shouting was the only way to communicate with them.

The answer came back; they were no longer visible, When the question was discussed they all had doubts. It sounds absurd, but it’s true, it’s very awkward for me, Not knowing for certain its suffocating, I’m going to look. However much I respect you, you’re still a stranger.

I’m not denying it’s possible, I would ask you not to, The boundaries are worked out, everything is registered. I don’t dare express myself on the subject on my own, There’s an element of truth in your view, tell me; You’re the stranger I spoke to, nothing is lost if we accept.

How calm this conviction more desperate than freedom? The contradiction obeying distant directives couldn’t improve. I dream, I really do, there’s no quiet place here on earth, None of this was too painful - it’s another of life’s torments; With your sympathetic words, you did what was not easy.

My past came back to me in your words, I heard my futureThere was no awkwardness anymore, that’s behind me.

I’m not afraid. If I hesitate it’s because I still have my doubts, This was nothing to do with the externals.

The body will only keep going for so long, It made the connection possible.

From all you’ve told me, I believe I see clearly now,

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That had never happened beforeIn a way it was recognising the surveillance, But that didn’t seem important. It was impossible to tell at a glance; You will be told everything at an appropriate time That is the law. The pointlessness of the act, You expect there to be some point.

I can be honest and tell you, I listened. It wasn’t worth wasting words on, How can I get you to believe me? While it’s unpleasant for you, I need to be alone I presume you haven’t been wasting your time, I suppose you don’t believe I’ve been accused Nothing would have happened.

As far as strangeness is concerned, They were well equipped with the ordinary. I’ve seen you twice recently, if I put it off It will probably be no use to you. We’re talking about two different things here; What is written and what I’ve experienced, I can’t afford to ignore anything that might help me.

Keep following it until you come to an exit.

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Through an opening of daylight I lost my way. You’re all alone, and now you’ve lost the box as well, Why did you have to go? There was some reasonI don’t suppose you’re thinking seriously. The unbroken silence was disturbed by a series of taps, The whole room naturally sprang to life. Everything seemed to be going the right way Curious objects - everything was clearer now. Before the witnesses come in and confuse the silence I suspected it all the time; it did me no harm. Why do you put up with everything; you’ve been Unjustly treated, sympathy was something to hope for. My right arm was lying on a table as if it were strangely Heavy, the fingers kept twitching with inhuman regularity I didn’t know it was to be today. Well, here we are, I didn’t want to introduce myself in the darkness. If only there were a ray of light to be seen, or a voice To be heard in the distance; it was slow progress. It seemed to exist merely to make a hollow sound, I was torn right out of that systematic course, Sometimes I think I know nothing, I couldn’t foresee That I would have such bad luck, you can imagine. But I shall stick to my instructions, its time I was gone, They did nothing but rush, the room was filling up. It’s no good they’ve probably torn up the photograph, If you’ve seen something; I’ll fix everything.

Tomorrow it won’t be so hard, I can do nothing more. I’ll listen to no excuses; you can keep your lying apologies, The fact that you were not there is quite enough for me. I pretend not to notice I saw you, it happened with rapidity, I couldn’t actually believe it; I still have confidence in you. Forget everything that may have been said to you here, From outside you could not really imagine what looked like. I have myself an obligation; I am completely in your power, Don’t move. I began running – I can’t leave here very often.

I work as long as I can and when I can’t do it any longer I’ll just lie down, and then I’ll find out – too late.

I think you’d be better here, though you’ll have nothing;

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NAUSEA V.III

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I could make no use of their conception

I shall take the incidental opportunity,

Our dreams always follow the present.

Make a closer nonsensical conclusion

Memory impressed on fragmentary

Distressing our daytime to make meaning

Reproductions of the sensory stimuli

Clear, for the sake of prolonged sleep.

Awoken by the ringing alarm clock

The therapy intervenes, let them out

Doing its duty embodied by dream.

Put them together in our normal life.

Visual phenomena appear authenticated By instances of success of an absent mind. Falling requires a certain passivity, fear Never offered us anything to compare, The fatigue grows sparser before our Clouded consciousness is overloaded.

Hysterical paralysis maintains a state Of uncritical self-observation â&#x20AC;&#x201C; How baseless the miseries of waking? The politeness I practice everyday Is to a large extent a pretence of anxiety The solution I had reached failed to satisfy.

Close to this memory holds another story, I believe I can trace this enthusiasm back I could pursue accidental motivations Without weaving the pain into the Human body or the strangers obsession.

Important for the late neurotics remains A person â&#x20AC;&#x201C;anonymous, reproduced from Memory perceived in a relationship. I submit to claustrophobia in dreams Composed of visual absurdity, fragmented Into virtual contradictions of reality.

The demand of censorship breaks off.

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The necessity of the moment made it impossible Do not be annoyed if I begin treating you the same. Nothing takes place but an interchange of words Kept in existence by emotional forces and deception I will answer in advance with a â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;yesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;.

Using a similar sound that would be most convincing Imagine that someone had taken a certain substance Disturbing intention and thought - I allowed myself. These chance actions include manipulation with our body With the sole aim of applying sublime blue sky.

We experience the impression of strangeness I once succeeded in identifying the stimulus. These phantasies dominated by a transparent motive Make possible the hypnotic sleep we withdraw, I am under the impression we advanced too quickly.

When the need is less intense the censorship Manifests traces in our memory without a Simultaneous alteration or undistorted anxiety.

We usually interrupt our sleep before censorship.

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For reasons both external and internal The justification goes far beyond prevention. There is something in the psychological Situation that encourages hostility. A certain amount of these impulses Returns to original choices and conditions.

The equivalent phenomenon and obsessive Illness maintained unconquerable anxiety A capacity to exploit forbidden fears. The reason given for this last restriction Seems an obvious contradiction â&#x20AC;&#x201C; We do not have sufficient space.

Our interest does not require us, The situation is rendered more difficult That is fine to the excess of anxious concern Of a vocabulary constantly being changed. How are we to explain the beginning? Connected to a motor impulse opinions change.

In various obscure premonitions. The bond of unity is conceived, regarded A stranger even, everyone was interrogated Freed from the need to trace ourselves

Mourning a profoundly painful performance.

The disorder of self-esteem is absent, I was Initially startled and collapsed â&#x20AC;&#x201C; overwhelmed.

I speak of a disillusion everyone will know

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Something alienates the sympathy Obliged to go back some distance, Our nervous disease left to influence The destruction of this illusion Annihilates the bond of community.

They are inexorably prohibited guests Like those of a stranger, paralysed In recognition of unconscious processes It is the last moment of self-control. We may assume that it resumes.

I have procured no such attitude Subject to fits of passion unexpected From mental activity behind weakness. It designates unrivalled wounds pretentious From bleeding certain to security.

Sufferings of other people substitute Disclosures of antithetical meaning Since every conception is its twin opposite To satisfy those wishes, an event or Painful experience ensues on success.

Psychological reckoning supplements

The pleasure of smashing broken things Followed without leaving a trace behind. The idea â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;doubleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; does not disappear.

Exhausted privileges characterize fixation, There is a frustration in reality regarding Blood as beautifying existence.

Silence awakened by mental relief,

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We have long observed real life – reality,

It exercises censorship in dreams suffering

Occasioned by an odd outbreak of insanity

An object, the believer appeals to a

These processes strive towards internal

Melancholia of obsessional neurosis

Satisfaction, by means of hallucination.

Like a superficial rationalization.

Struck – made to subsume external doubt

These self-injurers rage against the self,

They exist together abandoning observation

The upper layer is transparent – permanent

For pure hysteria, in total absence of instincts.

Traces receive impressions of a new idea.

The condition of sleep resembles illness I think in anxiety, neurosis becomes congested. Since we are already familiar with the idea The mechanism of falling helps towards an Internal draining away of imaginary objects. The process of recovery describes truth Calls out a higher level of performance.

Avoid applying certain abstract ideas The substance persists between inside Automatically regulated fluctuation. The external world and hatred are identical, The instinctual vicissitude of repression Passes between flight and condemnation Yielding the influence of mental distraction.

Intermediate links pass neurotic symptoms

In a modification, annihilating the idea Obtaining a true knowledge of censorship. We learn by reproducing visual images Withdrawing from the surrounding world We will repeat the hallucinatory wish.

There is a margin of aesthetic indifference No complete explanation has been reached. A wound or injury remains inflicted Simultaneously synonymous expression Construct a memory, the ratio between what Is remembered and what is reproduced, What appears is an instinct perfection.

Ordering an undesirable guest

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Why does paranoia have a privileged position? I’m not going to fall into the myth of experience The image is always integrated into order Within this perspective traced from lived Temporal reference points in real phenomena. No notion is in the end more paradoxical The source of auditory hallucination was external.

Perhaps by virtue of errors brought into focus After a short illness consisting of delusion The suggestion is designated the same ambiguity. You must respect and touch upon the inadequacy The very institution is the experiment of paranoid Knowledge- it’s reality containing psychotic fantasy I would go even further to climb the scale of delusions.

To run on beneath the surface determines a neurotic Invasion called verbal hallucinations with projected Symptoms based on totality subsisted in repression. This is a relationship invented to explain the Phenomena of memory, inexhaustible in combination Disclosure prevents me from dwelling, it’s a false

Perception based on nothing besides this name.

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I do not think this a surprising subject, Our experience which has led us to explore This theory was to destine it to failure. Perhaps the question will be in sharp relief, Yet these desires are nothing but notions Situated at the forefront of our experience. We must maintain the autonomy and Desire only aspirations in their chaos.

Our action suggests we are not far removed Its beginning is opaque – characterized by Demand – we must be patient a little longer. The fictional process offers the paradox The whole hallucinatory phenomenon occurs Structure interposes itself between consciousness The first experience of reality for the human Is to cry by some internal illness.

We should perhaps conceive pain as a field Open to nothing else but this discourse. It appears as the quiet rhythmic droning A mediator between pleasure and real rule There is no example of ideal exhaustion Nothing offers a satisfying explanation. Organised around emptiness fixing form

Now at the threshold – door broken The imaginary register demonstrates chaos Fundamental disorder of reciprocal relations The task will be elimination of a waste Expressed by common experience of promiseThere’s no reason why we should dream in Our confrontation with the human condition.

To the illusion of space, you see vanity.

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The mirror stage assumed the image

Psychosis is really just a symptom articulated,

Between this virtual support structure.

Necessitating a more advanced system.

This fragmented body and neurosis

It never fails to concretize the nausea

Encounter existential personal error as

Connoting absence in its presence;

The imaginary transference resisted

There can be little doubt,

Various kinds of therapeutic suggestion.

This is why I am so anxious.

Delusional construction suspends shadows Blind suppression made possible. The reduction of symptoms based on truth, Nothing is created without a sense of urgency To make itself heard is the void – failure Seems to satisfy the condition of continuity.

To say nothing of the theory – the agreement Divorced from the serious freedom of choice, The abstract objectification of simulated Experience – a connotation of absence. Language assumes interpretation – exhaustion Consummated in repetition of a certain code.

I am speaking by whatever name I choose None of this is my own invention, an error Fixing a spatializing projection of anxiety. Such failure is symptomatic after the immense

Of forgetting, is the origin of contradiction.

It simulates delusion placed between mirrors It would not see itself seeing itself – This reflection returns our image to us Such are the structural conditions. But it remains confused distinguished From the system – apprehending reality.

Human laceration of meaning – this act

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In that space passing through awareness The mirage of truth was under obligation; To spare you manipulation- a sort of gap. Neurosis creates harmony in zones of shade, A strange temporality occurs –

Dimensions of loss veiled in analysis Act a homage to the missed reality. The real may be represented by absence I see myself, it reflects nothingness in mimicry There is an extraordinary verisimilitude –

A gaze behind – the terminal moment, The eye carries the fatal power to separate Analytic repetition; to reveal what it repeats, To believe the opacity of the trauma Designated at the closing unconscious-

Temporal pulsations and conceptual crisis, Identification is merely a pause – termination. Interpretation concerns the pleasure of seeing Closing upon its own satisfaction and tension, We apprehend the reason to believe-

The choice is a matter of knowing,

The presence is implied in masked experience Justifying simulation as actual desire. -Pleasure is still too much for actual equilibrium.

Eclipsed by the disappearance of being.

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Perhaps you find yourself being summed up, Place is a term I often use- it leaves you hope. You always end up in a certain place no further, We were in what might be called a moment – These are not things that happen as unconscious Dreamed up thinking; thought transparent The outcome that everyone thinks they know, Begins to become incoherent – negative.

Its standard practice, a tenable positionA therapy, a drug: but never a cure. Not only is it not new, it is the main entrance. Articulated with the everyday discourse It’s revealing one way of dealing, we are Entering the great performance, a higher Mythology - a theoretical facilitation and Mental automatism they could not see.

Hallucination inaugurates the dimension of truth Manufactured articulations correlate the symptom Where you can say anything, even the truth. Everything is a continuation of everything else, You know the nonsense they’ve come up with; It’s the beginning of the biological dream-

It means reason encourages us to go on sleeping.