天亮了,这种疯狂的激情消失了,他犯下的可怖罪行的回忆却回来了——比以前更加可怕。在绝望中,他决定还是回伦敦去。
Writing is that neutral, composite, oblique space where our subject slips away, the negative where all identity is lost, starting with the very identity of the body writing.
Art is magic delivered from the lie of being truth.
We have three baskets for investing: yes, no, and too tough to understand.