I will speak in the language of sleepwalking. In a language that will no longer be a language when I wake up.
Clarice Lispector, 『Passion according to G.H.』
Suddenly, like a flash of light, a certain taste of horror spreaded and burned my heart so I couldn’t help but open my eyes. The red sky reflected in the mirror filled the room. The sun was rising. The reddest time of the day. When I read Borges' interview a few years ago, I understood that the taste of the nightmare he described was a sheer synesthetic sensation or metaphorical expression. But only today I opened my eyes with pure fear in my heart. The whole body prickled by the taste.
After experiencing incubus a few days ago, the anxiety brought about by his constant visits. I felt guilty for myself for welcoming the visit of a faceless penis while recognizing all of his existence at the same time as if I would soon be robbed of everything inside. The distinction between the will and reality within me stood against the physical force like a typhoon. The roots of my whole body were pulled out when my head was pulled for an empty stage full of lighting. The moment that distinction becomes vague came today when my body finally became a ghost.
I was assigned a task, so I had to do it with my family members formed by contract, as wandering dogs gather for survival. Our task was to grasp the strands of tree roots that protrude tacky through the dirt of the cliffs. and live undetected by the human family living on the cliffs. We overheard the ringing phone ring in the house, the hiss of someone in the role of a mother, or her saying “get down.”. we obeyed and repulsed, and then rolled down the cliff.
Also, we naturally absorbed the logic that there would be skeletons piled up under our feet. we couldn't dare to climb down so only guessed the ground we stepped on as the top of a high cliff. We desperately litted each other's faces with a light from time to time or giggled by mocking each other.
We lived like that.
Sometimes there came a helicopter scouting the top of the mountain and trying to figure out the geography. We tried to hide in the house and pass something unfair to our hearts, but as a result, hissing with each other was all. On the days when the human family came out of the house, it was common to follow the veins of the roots of a tree that slowly went down the cliff like a mole and rolled down while walking down the cliff.
One day, I secretly possessed the daughter in the house and came out at dawn to take out cold rice from the fridge and was detected. so I ran out on a mountain road. In the middle of the road, I found the clothes and shoes someone left before jumping to his death. I ran to my mother and raised a question. After my mother checked it, she stopped me from going back to the roots. My mother seemed to be doing something of her own duty.
Too many crisis-conscious beings hurriedly grabbed their roots and moved to the ground, rolled down and died. I contemplated walking down to the ground in a mess. I hid in the porch of the crumbling house under the cliff. Hiding behind the pillars, someone approached. I closed my eyes because I had to pretend to be dead, not to be absent. The landlord came back and looked into my face. He gimmicked me by turning the light off and on, to confirm my death.
The dark space was clearly visible over the eyelids. He put a table in front of me, whose eyes were closed. He was smoking while playing a card game alone, and declared my deprivation because I could not find the error in this story. When he grilled, I woke up from my dream. The red sun shone in the mirror in front of my bed, and my whole room was red. Reddish than the sunset, it was the reddest morning of the day.
The fear of being regarded as a very insignificant being, the fear of my existence, which I have to be a completely forever player, the fear that is in line with the reason for believing in God.
At night, delirium is prone, so it is advisable to have a family member take care of the patient at night. For a familiar environment, the patient's usual items are placed in one or two hospital rooms to provide emotional stability, and when the patient shows severe anxiety and excitement that may threaten himself or his surroundings, sedatives or sleeping pills are administered. It is recommended to inform the patient of today's date, place, and person periodically, and it is important to minimize unnecessary external stimuli, but to illuminate indirect lighting so that the patient does not mislead.
Samsung Medical Center Disease Encyclopedia
But why have you never seen this color, this flash, even when you wake up from sleep every day?
I don't know how to explain it, but I thought I needed to help you understand why I'm being like this these days. Let me try. Since you returned to Korea, I'm completely lost. Maybe you feel the same way. As you meet so many people, spend time, and go out to hang out often, you gradually get away from yourself. In order to return yourself to a social being even further than disappearing.
I just feel like I'm nobody. Getting away from my desires, getting away from the things I care about...
This symptom gets more evident when I read a book or watch a movie. I don't really understand what I'm reading or seeing. I have no emotions or interests. In the meantime, it seems that I have only felt these things through the illusions in my brain.
I'm far from me, even from you in the end.
I have to change this, which drives me into great anxiety. It's like my soul is shredded and I can't be a human being. I called you today and told you that I didn't seem to exist. You treat me as a ghost. It's because of me. Because I don't know what exists in a person. I said I was lost...
I want to apologize to you based on this. Being a bad person in your life, I want to be the opposite, your happiness, your light, your distinctiveness, the elements that make you love me.
I hope you understand and forgive me.
What is clear is that he comes to me because I am waiting for my nightmare. While I was sleeping he pushed his penis into my mouth, and I ran toward the doorway to escape the taste of the nightmare that caught me and crushed me. However, it's not clear if I can say I was running because of the weight on my belly. I got off so slowly that I later thought I might even have wanted to stay on the bed a little longer. It was as if walking in the water.
The fair fight between human intelligence and the beast's insight seemed surprisingly innocent compared to human insidious tactics.
Marguerite Yourcenar, 『Memoirs of Hadrian』
When I was young, when I went to a hotel pool with my fellas, we dropped a hair strap and then dived and picked it up. The act of winning was important, and we never struggled with figuring out whom to win. 70 centimeters, 1.5 meters, 5 meters later after becoming more brave... Sometimes the braids landed on the floor slower than anybody. The appearance of his image approaching from behind me was also such a blurry and scattered appearance. He had no face like the other day, and he kept changing his shape to somehow push his own to me. I added the face and torso of my past lover to his face to offer my ass. It stuck pretty well. It was a little crackling, though.
He changed the shape of his penis back and forth, and I made a stick-like thing that I had never had before. So we got tangled together. However, despite adding a little familiarity, the taste of the nightmare could not be shaken. Our appearance in the mirror was just like a vine. His face was like a mask. Even if I tried to project a familiar face, it couldn't be more than a flat mask. There was no life in his eyes. No matter how dark my room is…
Strange things usually go around secretly under our feet. However, when a crisis strikes, they come up to the ground from various places as if it were a flood, crouching for an opportunity to be struck by a force that threatens society, and then infiltrate the tense situation in society. Its power breaks the fence, floods the drains of society and breaks through the road. When the water is drained later, a different landscape and a different order will appear at the end of the road.
Is this an invasion of heterogeneous elements or some kind of repetition of the past?
Michel de Certeau, 『The possession at Loudun』
History was not originally determined objectively by the underlying economic structure, but the possibility that it could be conveyed by the mouth and hegemony of the speaker was brought about by the transition of linguistics. Structuralism and post-structuralism appear here, but it was already a postmodern phenomenon.
After the collapse of the party's standards, both wispy and heresy exist freely, and the criticism of modern science and logic implied by the post-war criticism is transformed into the denial of science and logic itself, resulting in irrational nationalism.
Post-war criticism became taboo or an intellectual fad in the 70s, and began to be closely connected with the ideology of power.
Ayoung Jung, 『Social Memory and Evaluation of Japan's 1968 Student Movement』 (Economy and Society 2007' Winter Edition)
We drooled as we glanced over the small fish market opened on the waypoint. When we ate something together and laid on a damp floor with a stomachache, my old lover climbed up and pressed me down. The exact volume and hardness I remember, the whole body is like a sponge, but a very accurate degree of volume and hardness, the whole body is like a sponge, and the volume and hardness... When I looked around, everyone was asleep. But a man in the group looked at us and shook his penis vigorously. Almost rage in the eyes.
After returning to the base planet, there was a stamp on the bonnet of the convertible that three men were riding, in the form of a crushed and burnt face by fire. The melted face of the man on the right, his face was the face of the seal stamp. Two faces burnt side by side as if copied. The men on the left and center were dry and hardened, exuding white dust, and just like Lot's wife, they were very surprised and dead as if they were alive.
“But God loved the sheep.”
As a master of inconsistent humor relations, God persistently likened humans to sheep, while humans rejected and persecuted these lowly beings that were supposed to constitute themselves from God's point of view.
In order to show love, God needs this trick to reverse the parable. God's love for humans raises the problem of designation. Humans must be animals, not humans, and more precisely, the most obedient, foolish, and anxious of animals, that is, by themselves, never the only one. Because sheep don’t exist alone or do not allow individualization.
Avital Ronell, 『Foolishness』
Mother doesn't have her own room. She wanders around the living room during the day and does things like that. Sometimes I sit in the room holding my breath and do things like writing or reading books, but sometimes I get nervous about the footsteps passing through the door. She almost deliberately passes my door and goes to my brother's room and cleans it with a loud noise. I often think that the impressions of people who have left are more in the rhythm and shape of their gait rather than their faces. In my mother's case, the sound of calluses rubbing on the floor defined your impression. The sound of her grinding calluses in the living room, and the sound of it falling on the newspaper on the floor, is louder than the invisible noise of the television that she keeps on. Something is wrong with this house.
I now empty the trash instead of her and count the number of condoms and cigarette butts. Eternal femininity uplifts us. She never knows how to get up from the bed. At dawn when others wake up, she wants to run away from the physiological rhythms. With a fleeing mind, her will is struggling to lay her down. The round back of sleeping helplessly is very heavy. On top of her, the dust settles neatly. While embracing the sun.
The reason why dualisms are suspicious is not that all conceptual dichotomy is in principle harmful, but that such dualisms specifically require discrimination between the inhabitants of the two worlds as a condition for the unification of the two worlds.
Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, 『Cannibal Metaphysics』
Occasionally, when one of the skins of my dreams peeled off, I felt a little heavier. While the weight of the outer skin became lighter. But every such moment, the back of my right eye gets a little stiff and heavier... That is to say, I felt like an additional weight was added, so my head sinked into the abyss. When imagining the death of my mother, I felt a little more realistic. and the skin was peeled off, and the rebirth of this intuition was as quick as the moment of a touch when I pulled my foot back to the ground and stepped on to reality. As if nothing had happened. I go to the next stop.