Time travel...now the Brahms is playing...conducted by Bruno Walter...memory next to memory next to memory...in memory, a series of photographs
Let them eat space
Psychoanalysis: the art and science of lilstening
I got the idea today that what people often do is doom themselves to the sidelines. This is an unconscious choice and is symbolized by the need for news. The desire for gossip is the breeze that fans the fire when the fire is already being kept deliberately low. When you're at the center of your own activity, this desire for "knowledge" decreases and a deliberate envisioning of actual possibilities for action is substituted. Action is usually envisioned when the image of risk is outbalanced by the image of gain. This is why bad news for "stability" drives down the stockmarket. In reality, the image of risk is reduced most effectively by images of steady gains which off-set the damage of occasional losses ("bad risks.")
This is where my idea of the "sore winner" comes in. No amount of winning will completely eliminate images of risk and loss. Impending loss vs. real- the ultimately unforgettable reality of death for each individual makes complete elimination of images of risk and loss unhealthy and undesirable. This is the real unconscious wish of the "sore winner." Enough is never enough for those touchy and demanding people. Ultimately, the "sore winner" is the tactic par excellance for reinstituting sidelining. Never feeling satisfied for long means that ultimately the sore winner feels that she or he has not yet recived the proper credit. Back on the sidelines again.
Why do I hate lists and stacks of things to do? As soon as I put something in an organized pile, I have the temptation to "desert" the pile- not go near it.
Something in the form of a syllogism creates a "thrusting push" towards conclusions- wish for outcomes (endings). Is this equated with orgasm- release?
You can always return to a pile because you know it's there. But the feeling of surprise is eliminated. The activity becomes remorseless and joyless. Now I remember. My father was extremely neat. I came to hate this "organization"- to equate it with his distancing tactics. As soon as I see a pile, I am reminded of him and I want to avoid it. the same feeling exists for lists.
Perhaps it was in studying diaries, like that of Pavese and literary journals like that of Valery, that you can write something without drawing a conclusion. Or write only the conclusions (perceptions).
Title: The Functioning