Everything Ends With Flowers.

Decisive Moment: The One When You Will Be Really Alone. And It Is Perhaps This That Makes Her Hesitate: Not The Void, But The Vastness Of The Solitude. It's As Well If You Are Frightened Of Solitude. It's A Sign That You Have Come To The Moment Of Your Birth.

What Happens: Events Interiors, Snatch Them From The Cradle, From The Source. I Want To Watch Watching Arrive. I Want To Watch Arrivances. I Want To Find The Root Of Needing To Eat. And Taste It: Work Of Sweat / Sleep.

Wouldn't The Worst Be, Isn't The Worst, In Truth, That Women Aren't Castrated, That They Have Only To Stop Listening To The Sirens (for The Sirens Were Men) For History To Change Its Meaning? You Only Have To Look At The Medusa Straight On To See Her. And She's Not Deadly. She's Beautiful And She's Laughing.

Woman Must Write Her Self: Must Write About Women And Bring Women To Writing, From Which They Have Been Driven Away As Violently As From Their Bodies - For The Same Reasons, By The Same Law, With The Same Fatal Goal. Woman Must Put Herself Into The Text - As Into The World And Into History - By Her Own Movement.

Perhaps What I Do Not Manage To Operate Rapidly Enough Is The Passage Between The Outside And The Inside.