Eugen Georg


21 maart 2016

Methodology and chance sometimes do not match. I do not want to destroy anything, but things are postponed. I feel that it is not my job – as a writer – to make things match. The world has been explained and misinterpreted over and over again. Maybe its my own world that lacks of explanation and I am doing the work of Sisyphus every time I try to put things down. From a formal point of view there is the danger to the danger of destroying semantic categories. I am struck by the appearance of topics in my head. Maybe it is a sign of lacking  emancipation: political, social, artistic and private. What is true political emancipation? What is social engagement at its purest? What is to be done in the arts? And where is the life I dreamt of as a teenager? I propose to use this chaos against the terror. The terror of our conformist society. You will have to decide what this terror means to you. I write this with the last few breaths of the dying teenager in me. I say farewell to you my old friend.

It was nice to see the world with own eyes. Now they are about to win! Words, and when you speak them out they become shallow. Hiding from myself is a discipline I am surely skilled in very well. All your fears of loss that used to explain you the world and why you got to be alone in here, all this will pass and you will become one of them. But with my last power I do put things down for you dear reader, one more time! We can say: At the trial to visualize and to formulate the real, chaos broke out! 
Some old paths must be given up. Some new appear. There is the logic of language and the magic of language. You are invited to pick up whatever you think, fits to your own life. No text can offer more, than the opportunity to behave independently. My telos lies beyond the text, beyond the language. Life goes on, aesthetic dissent!…


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