Translations !

Lectures 2009.10.01

Sex has been for over a year the way I spread myself allover the world. I broadcast no by spreading my arms, but my making them separate their legs. It might be I'm not sleeping well, enough to lose any major concern over the own privacy. Since statistical experimental data was put to the test and information took the shape of a story whose way of telling can be modified in order to produce certain effects or determined forms of exhaustion, all became simultaneous believable and unbelievable. So, I can speak. I will tell my story.

A hint of cock to save the world

at least I have aesthetics to cope what do you got?

at least I have food to cope what do you got?

at least I have news to cope what do you got?

at least I have comics to cope what do you got?

at least I have music to cope what do you got?

at least I have tv to cope what do you got?

Lectures 1 2009.09.28

To overcome a second dimension of time, that is, to be able to go past or future, back and forth, is something that has been tried and called unsuccessful. I can certainly have traveled to the past several times, although it used to be substantially easier in my tender infancy. What became a mathematical physics complex scheme of simultaneous nonlinear equations, started to look all wrong after itself. I think the first and one of the clearest mistakes is to forget the necessity of the matter a human willing to travel across history entails in his space-time continuum. So the main task now becomes to redefine what defines a presence, whether it is in either former of following times. I am not saying by absolute confidence that I have traveled on time anymore than what I'm dimensioned to, but, preferably, that depending on the answer drawn by my main research question, it will be possible to describe what traveling on time was and what was not, and what was thought as such by my own consideration, or other's.

I'm only left to say right now how substances on body led the mind to believe any trip took place. There is absolutely no physical evidence proving it whatsoever. What can be said is that a highly count of hormones circulating within the veins can overexcite the body to the point of illusion, portrayed as a mechanism in which the body fakes a world for the conscience in order to exclude it from main control. Body reestablishes and only then main can come back to reality.

I am able to identify what I cannot perceive. I am a walking paradox. I am a gap of time: I had to deprive the world some, for research reasons.

Lectures Sunday 2009-09-27

Lately I've been bound to believe life it's nothing but an experiment from higher grounds. In the economical field, I have decided to opt for non controlled experiments, which is a rare, still uncommon method to follow in social sciences and much more in science in general. The idea of a trial where any factor in sight can potentially be the sole determinant of an outcome is resisted by scholars even with their enriching souls. But I think it’s a misleading one. Actually I would dare to say it really does not matter. Thinking quite beyond the preconceptions of how science is made one could reach propositions such as that, given the complexity of reality, the joint forces in development inhibit the flow of minor, irrelevant factors. Some critics would see it as the renounce from individual’s isolation given its tremendous technical efforts, which is visible in psychology and biology, among others. It’s not difficult to reply because it’s foreseeable how phenomena look so different as itself in absence of the rest of the world. Besides, forces and variables are never coming alone so, why bother?

One could defend the idea of caeteris paribus to be a sorry excuse for the lack of mental skills: why to build such an empty argument instead of standing still and pay only a little more of attention? Brain has been proven to easily recall differences in a landscape from color, mainly, and secondarily from shape. Why hasn’t it been trained to identify currents of effects among social, economic processes? As far as I’m concerned, the complex of issues that gives rise to my humanity can’t be obliterated while I study and develop the research my professor requests. It’s the purity infectious, as paradoxical as it may sound. But as I meant above, the clue is to make the most out of the act of brain, in order to reveal hidden behavior. Worries do not affect science, whether it is because complexity has lifted a barrier for them; or because my inner existential worries, at a point of latent influence, hold an organic relationship with the subject of my investigation.

If such a thing is true, I would be even more prone to consider myself and my flux of hormone response as a part of a latter, wider experimental practice. My eye ends up the lens of a telescope that works my own behavior. To be watched means nothing. Everything is recorded, and the one recording is helplessly attached to the problems of mine he, the foreigner, beholds.

Words start falling resembling the ideas in my brain and the hues in the rest of my body. The grieves of living in a circuit of cause and effect are clear, yet unseen. Is it maybe that experimental isolation is really what is necessary to avoid pain and sorrow? Childhood spoiling looks then like the guilty case of boring, one-sided, dismissive research results. But it can be over now. Although, that would point at childhood as an urgent matter. This is how it is supposed to work. It looks, in general appearance, brilliant.

So sad it is I would only see the professor until Wednesday, where I’ll forget about most of the hard core of my wonder. Memory appears like a big thing to come. Or is it, perhaps, information…

Lectures (2009-25-09)

It’s not like I have to be around him or any sort of emotional or supportive companion all of the time. It’s actually not a seldom event the one in which I am a genie among peers or associates. I guess right now I am referring to the point of solitude I manage to achieve between my several compromises. Today, I got to be. Yet I am forced to think, and to listen.

So I listened.

I could say I discovered how strongly I can be driven by inertia in the sense of running away from it. By listening I acknowledge once more how unsettled I am, and how much. I lust uncertainty, even to the point of danger. It’s probably from that where it derives my masochism, and maybe infrequent episodes of depression, accidents, helplessness, excess of happiness, and so on. My point is that, in the search of uncertainty juxtaposed with the search of stability by pretty much the rest of the world, I refuge in myself. The headache cuts the flow of self endorsement and I am forced to face the opportunism of the figure known as the other. Funny thing, because she shows up once my working memory starts to fail and I will deal with the issue of confronting a person.

It’s a hyperbolic scheme. A person in front of my eyes and it’s impossible to gain the minimal focus on myself. My only exit is to let me go into the eyes of the one in front of me. An inquiry thus becomes a quarrel for the part of my soul living in the guts of the interlocutor.

A glance, then, is an act of admiration. A kiss, is a demonstration of spiritual want. And, a sex, well, a sex is…

Lectures 1

Even thought I see him as my neurologist professor, I would not like to commence thinking of him as a pathological being of the likes of teachers and instructors. Not because he is too different from the others. This is just about a matter of approach.

I've seen him only a couple of times. I must clarify I'm an economics student and I did not choose medicine due to a thought of shortness of mind. Soon I realized how such small gap among disciplines and crowds of people belonging to those was no issue abroad. I'm still here, nevertheless.

Sadly it came a point where my so-called science became predictable and the part of my brain craving for ulterior challenges started to grieve. I noticed quickly how advances in neural science came from all sources. There was basement research coming from low income regions in East Asia that turned out to be just as relevant as the ones coming from the top universities in the Western. I really could not tell the ways and directions I'm driven into, what really drives me, but I could say there are subjects currently evolving and being considered as cutting edge: AI, TOM, Supertrings, post-dramatic theater, and Complexity Science. I follow the blanks, simply put.

I finished the Faust des Spiesz over a year and a half ago and life has not been the same ever since. Sure real events occurred since then but in general terms, «my molecular structure did not fall from stability», as my professor would say. The book from where I admit I only got sorrowful fractions is still nurturing my ideas and the world surrounding me. The professor, at my first psychiatry session in his practice, easily spotted a number of issues that stroke me badly. As if I was a huge pop or advertising frame after his eyes. What did I expect?

– Ideas are one true source of ecstasy for you. The bigger and the more invading they are, the better. I am right now, for instance, a big idea you can’t turn your eyes from.

There he was with his narcissistic speech I identify with so much. As resounding as always, as pleasurable to have his only company as the other sources of physical delight I have so successfully tasted. I especially enjoy his hands swinging along the rhythm of his explanation. I certainly did not want to look naïve or speechless at him. My equally overcoming ego would not let his casual words get such a critic tone on me. I would fight back, defeat him and feed with his shredded flesh. I would be content with that metaphorically this time.

– I know you don’t underestimate me. Ideas that are big or belong to major scopes are nothing but mere steps toward a concept of its own. And do not forget that this idea, yet to be reached, will provide me with validity.

– I can see clearly your existence depends on the idea of the integrated myth, as a rational quest. I also couldn’t help to notice how you mention your objective so human, so close to your own understanding. How can you tell from this point the distance you are from and the dimensions it would employ?

Lectures

Friday. Passion is just wishful thinking.

Something is keeping me from returning home. I have lots of pending readings but this day I simply do not function. I should be resting but instead the illumination of my incandescent thinking sets me down by a light pole in the cold, dark, young night. I keep myself visible. I fiercely want to be seen. I made lots of colorful pictures of myself. I believe to be hearing familiar sound, one voice in particular yet I see nobody and no one real approaches me.

As I begin to develop some of my remarkable procedures alone in the dark, I realize how physically ill I’ve been feeling for a while now. It’s strange because it is not relevant but at the same time I cannot tell how a mixture of physical and emotional phenomenon inflicts pain in a way beyond my control, which diminishes my will for it to end. For a moment, I stare. I wonder how a concert would sound.

I have not yet reached a verdict on holding of myself so my system faints. I am far, resembling the truths from my professor. Of the number of things I get to speak on, however, I am yet to identify where I tell the truth.

Touch me, I'm going to scream if you don't

Inside I have the feeling that you won't

I can tell by the way you smile, I'm smiling too

I can see myself in you

I can tell by the sounds you make, when you are pleased, you see yourself in me

How many nights can a soul so full of life remain untouched?

How could a soul make the most of what is whole and what is here?

I need a human right by my side, untied, untied

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