top of page
Search

Che vuoi?

  • Aug 13, 2020
  • 1 min read

Updated: Aug 14, 2020

Like Lacan, I derive some pleasure from jumping into the unfathomable abyss of the Other. Perhaps bored with the unfathomable abyss of Self? Social, biological need for human connection? Even if the connection destabilizes the sensorial lagoon of my solitude? The Other is elusive, as are the fantasies that emerge in the interlude. So I take Lacan's ethical injunction seriously - I live. I live to stifle the excessive nature of the fantasy that otherwise consumes me.

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
If Only

I was returning to my car from a brief conversation with a nearby stream. We had sat together early one morning and listened to one another's miscellaneously strung-together thoughts. While I did most

 
 
 
“Can you get a fork, Dad?”

A young woman and her father, set up at the table next to me at a local bakery, where the prized goods are not inexpensive. The daughter, dressed in garb characteristic of a financially comfortable mi

 
 
 
Poetry

I'm on the edge of freedom. I still grip the horn tightly with one hand, and the reins with the other. The tall grass brushes my legs as we glide by, and the horseflies attempt to stop us. But the air

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page