What Is The Best Friut To Masterbate To

Jean Paul Sartre

(fragment)

"The poet in every word, for the sole purpose of the poetic attitude, make the dream metaphor in which Picasso when he wanted to make a match box that was completely a bat without ceasing to be a matchbox. Florence is a city, flowers and women and is also a city-flower-city women and girl-flower. And the strange item shown and has the liquidity of the river and burning sweet tawny gold, and, finally, is left with decency, and extends indefinitely, through the continued weakening and moving, her serene joy saturated with reservations. To this must be added the insidious efforts of the biography. To me, Florence is also a certain woman, an American actress who acted in silent films of my childhood and I forgot everything but that was long a ball glove, which was always a little tired and was chaste, that always represented and misunderstood roles of wife named Florence and I loved her. For the word, which starts the prose of himself and throws the world back the poet, like a mirror, his own image. This is what justifies the dual company Leiris, who on the one hand, in his Glossaire, aims to give certain words a poetic definition, ie it is in itself a synthesis of reciprocal implications between body and soul sound verbal and other, in a still unpublished work, was launched in search of lost time, taking as guides to certain words were highly charged emotional value for him. Thus, the poetic word is a microcosm. The crisis of language that occurred in the early sources poetic crisis. Whatever the social and historical factors that produced this crisis manifested depersonalization access to the words of the writer. I did not know use them and, according to Bergson's famous formula, only half-recognized, approached them with a sense of truly successful surprise: no longer belonged to him, and were not for him, but in those mirrors unknown reflected the sky, earth and life itself. And finally, they became the things themselves or, rather, in the black heart of things. (...)

But this scheme has nothing in common with what is called usually a verbal outline: no chairs the construction of meaning. Well be closer the project owner by the Picasso defaults in space, even before touching your brush, this thing will become a jester or harlequin. Flee, flee to, I note the birds drunk, but, oh, my heart, hear the song of the sailors. "