“I hate the indifferent. I believe that living means taking sides. Those who really live cannot help being a citizen and a partisan. Indifference and apathy are parasitism, perversion, not life. That is why I hate the indifferent.
The indifference is the deadweight of history. The indifference operates with great power on history. The indifference operates passively, but it operates. It is fate, that which cannot be counted on. It twists programs and ruins the best-conceived plans. It is the raw material that ruins intelligence. That what happens, the evil that weighs upon all, happens because the human mass abdicates to their will; allows laws to be promulgated that only the revolt could nullify, and leaves men that only a mutiny will be able to overthrow to achieve the power. The mass ignores because it is careless and then it seems like it is the product of fate that runs over everything and everyone: the one who consents as well as the one who dissents; the one who knew as well as the one who didn’t know; the active as well as the indifferent. Some whimper piously, others curse obscenely, but nobody, or very few ask themselves: If I had tried to impose my will, would this have happened?
I also hate the indifferent because of that: because their whimpering of eternally innocent ones annoys me. I make each one liable: how they have tackled with the task that life has given and gives them every day, what have they done, and especially, what they have not done. And I feel I have the right to be inexorable and not squander my compassion, of not sharing my tears with them.
I am a partisan, I am alive, I feel the pulse of the activity of the future city that those on my side are building is alive in their conscience. And in it, the social chain does not rest on a few; nothing of what happens in it is a matter of luck, nor the product of fate, but the intelligent work of the citizens. Nobody in it is looking from the window of the sacrifice and the drain of a few. Alive, I am a partisan. That is why I hate the ones that don’t take sides, I hate the indifferent.”
―
The indifference is the deadweight of history. The indifference operates with great power on history. The indifference operates passively, but it operates. It is fate, that which cannot be counted on. It twists programs and ruins the best-conceived plans. It is the raw material that ruins intelligence. That what happens, the evil that weighs upon all, happens because the human mass abdicates to their will; allows laws to be promulgated that only the revolt could nullify, and leaves men that only a mutiny will be able to overthrow to achieve the power. The mass ignores because it is careless and then it seems like it is the product of fate that runs over everything and everyone: the one who consents as well as the one who dissents; the one who knew as well as the one who didn’t know; the active as well as the indifferent. Some whimper piously, others curse obscenely, but nobody, or very few ask themselves: If I had tried to impose my will, would this have happened?
I also hate the indifferent because of that: because their whimpering of eternally innocent ones annoys me. I make each one liable: how they have tackled with the task that life has given and gives them every day, what have they done, and especially, what they have not done. And I feel I have the right to be inexorable and not squander my compassion, of not sharing my tears with them.
I am a partisan, I am alive, I feel the pulse of the activity of the future city that those on my side are building is alive in their conscience. And in it, the social chain does not rest on a few; nothing of what happens in it is a matter of luck, nor the product of fate, but the intelligent work of the citizens. Nobody in it is looking from the window of the sacrifice and the drain of a few. Alive, I am a partisan. That is why I hate the ones that don’t take sides, I hate the indifferent.”
―
“البعض نحبهم
لكن لا نقترب منهم...فهم في البعد أحلى
وهم في البعد أرقى...وهم في البعد أغلى
البعض نحبهم
ونسعى كي نقترب منهم
ونتقاسم تفاصيل الحياة معهم
ويؤلمنا الابتعاد عنهم
ويصعب علينا تصوّر الحياة حين تخلو منهم.
البعض نحبّهم
ونتمنى أن نعيش حكاية جميلة معهم
ونفتعل الصدف لكي نلتقي بهم
ونختلق الأسباب كي نراهم
ونعيش في الخيال أكثر من الواقع معهم
البعض نحبهم
بيننا و بين أنفسنا
نصمت برغم الألم
لا نجاهر بحبهم حتى لهم لأن
العواقب مخيفه و من الأفضل لنا و لهم أن تبقى الأبواب مغلقة
البعض نحبهم
فنملأ الأرض بحبهم و نحدث الدنيا عنهم
و نحتاج إلى وجودهم..كالماء..والهواء
و نختنق فى غيابهم أو الأبتعاد عنهم
البعض نحبّهم
لأننا لا نجد سواهم
وحاجتنا إلى الحب تدفعنا نحوهم
فالأيام تمضي
والعمر ينقضي
والزمن لا يقف
ويرعبنا بأن نبقى بلا رفيق
البعض نحبهم
لأن مثلهم لا يستحق سوى الحب
ولا نملك أمامهم سوى أن نحب
نرمم معهم أشياء كثيرة
نعيد طلاء الحياة
ونسعى صادقين كي نمنحهم بعض السعادة
البعض نحبهم
و لا نجد صدى للحب في
قلوبهم
فننهار
ونتخبط في حكايات فاشلة
فلا نكرههم
لا ننساهم
لا نحب سواهم
ونعود نبكيهم بعد كل محاولة فاشلة
والبعض نحبّهم
ويبقى فقط أن يحبّوننا
مثلما نحبّهم”
―
لكن لا نقترب منهم...فهم في البعد أحلى
وهم في البعد أرقى...وهم في البعد أغلى
البعض نحبهم
ونسعى كي نقترب منهم
ونتقاسم تفاصيل الحياة معهم
ويؤلمنا الابتعاد عنهم
ويصعب علينا تصوّر الحياة حين تخلو منهم.
البعض نحبّهم
ونتمنى أن نعيش حكاية جميلة معهم
ونفتعل الصدف لكي نلتقي بهم
ونختلق الأسباب كي نراهم
ونعيش في الخيال أكثر من الواقع معهم
البعض نحبهم
بيننا و بين أنفسنا
نصمت برغم الألم
لا نجاهر بحبهم حتى لهم لأن
العواقب مخيفه و من الأفضل لنا و لهم أن تبقى الأبواب مغلقة
البعض نحبهم
فنملأ الأرض بحبهم و نحدث الدنيا عنهم
و نحتاج إلى وجودهم..كالماء..والهواء
و نختنق فى غيابهم أو الأبتعاد عنهم
البعض نحبّهم
لأننا لا نجد سواهم
وحاجتنا إلى الحب تدفعنا نحوهم
فالأيام تمضي
والعمر ينقضي
والزمن لا يقف
ويرعبنا بأن نبقى بلا رفيق
البعض نحبهم
لأن مثلهم لا يستحق سوى الحب
ولا نملك أمامهم سوى أن نحب
نرمم معهم أشياء كثيرة
نعيد طلاء الحياة
ونسعى صادقين كي نمنحهم بعض السعادة
البعض نحبهم
و لا نجد صدى للحب في
قلوبهم
فننهار
ونتخبط في حكايات فاشلة
فلا نكرههم
لا ننساهم
لا نحب سواهم
ونعود نبكيهم بعد كل محاولة فاشلة
والبعض نحبّهم
ويبقى فقط أن يحبّوننا
مثلما نحبّهم”
―
“I even see the cinema itself as a woman, with its alternation of light and darkness, of appearing and disappearing images”
―
―
“I don't even bother looking for words. It flows in me, more or less quickly. I fix nothing, I let it go. Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up: I forget them almost immediately.”
― Nausea
― Nausea
“الحنين ندبة في القلب ، و بصمة بلد على جسد . لكن لا أحد يحن إلى جرحه ، لا أحد يحن إلى وجع أو كابوس، بل يحن إلى ماقبله, إلى زمان لا ألم فيه سوى ألم الملذات الأولى التي تذوّب الوقت كقطعة سكر في فنجان شاي”
― في حضرة الغياب
― في حضرة الغياب
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