I WILL START POSTING BRIEF PARAGRAPHS/DRAFTS OF THE THINGS I'M WRITING THAT MAY OR MAY NOT END IN MY DISSERTATION. THANK-YOU.
So there must be a sudden stop. You realize that what you think you are no longer is. You crash into a wall, at full speed and without a safety net. The morning after, perhaps, you will not feel the pain, but the breach have been done, the intrusion has been placed // Hidden the movie --- something in me more than myself //. Nothing returns as it was before, you might feel scare but you have all the reason to be, because from now on you will be all alone, by yourself, with no coordinates and points of reference, with no one whose guidance will keep you in comfort and secure.
You become like a blank page but with the past knowledge of an image plastered on it already, like in the movie the Matrix when suddenly everything disappear and only Morpheus and Neo are in the image, an empty space waiting to be filled. And that’s the Real. It is a cold and empty space, with endless possibilities but with no starting point left behind and a just a remainder of something that was. In the movie Stalker by Andrei Tarkovsky the only traces an alien civilization has left behind for us humans to wonder, is just the leftovers of their crusade, the garbage bags filled with the content already consumed and thrown away and just the carcasses of an unreachable and unintelligible world. That's how we perceive the Real, as an already consumed but nonetheless beautiful and terryfing state of being.
We can have also a glimpse of the real in the iconic cartoon by Chuck Jones Daffy Amuck where the main character just gets pushed from one side of the drawing paper to the other, becoming conscious of its role as just the capricious will of its master, the drawing hand which full body or voice we never see nor hear, but we know it is there because we see Daffy Duck complaining about his non-stop mood swings, we see his pencil only as this organ without body*, which erratic brushes on the paper and sudden changes of ideas resemble the actions of a sadistic child, enjoying the submission of his subject, Daffy Duck, but what neither of them know is that they are both part of the same image, they are both in-existent. Their function is to serve as a version of a master-slave cartoon dialectic; which is located and formulated in the realm of a twisted fantasy delivered in the form of different art styles and resonant music.
