Status Updates From The Helene Cixous Reader

“I have always loved desire. Certainly not the desire which believes itself to be determined according to a lack -it is afraid of itself; it fears being satisfied. It has to use ruses to maintain itself - It desires itself more than it desires its object; it is very familiar, this desire to desire, which so often passes for desire itself, when it is only desire’s remorse and prudence.”

And we bury ourselves inside ourselves

But I have my doubts, about myself and about words as well: I am not sure my written language can faithfully translate all the many living, original, cosmic, personal languages.

for the characteristic of our gods, those in whom for centuries we can no longer believe, is to prove that they exist precisely in these moments of trouble in which belief, in general, is about to die and in which we will be compelled to choose between madness and belief in ourself, "I am going to encounter myself," our soul petrified with fear cries out, "Quick, a god!"

I am spacious singing Flesh: onto which is grafted no one knows which I - which masculine or feminine, more or less human but above all living, because changing I.