the unconscious

Evasive and vacillating, impalpable and without ontology, such is the unconscious, if it exists at all. I can only recognise its existence by acknowledging its expression in language, in gestures, in acts, as the unconscious as understood here (in its lacanian sense) is structured like a language, but a language unrealised that lives in the dark, outside the mind’s conscious realm, yet I can sense its rhythm in language, in the body, in the speaking body.

It is a text not yet born, awaiting to be born, and it returns in our dreams or our nightmares until we give birth to the unborn. The double of our being (in the world).

from Shades of Cogs

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