When the shapes of things dissolve into the night, the darkness of night, which is not an object or the quality of an object, invades as a presence. At night, when we're stuck with it, we do not deal in anything. But that nothing is not a pure nothing. There is neither this nor that, there is "something". But this universal absence is, in turn, a presence, a presence absolutely inevitable. It is not the dialectical counterpoint of absence, and not by a thought as we apprehend it. It is immediately there. No speech. Nothing responds to us, but that silence, the voice of the silence, hear, and scares as the "silence of infinite spaces" spoken of Pascal. There is generally no matter what is, without a noun can stick to that term. There, impersonally as "rain" or "hot." Anonymity essential. The spirit is not against an apprehended outside. What if outside stick to that term remains correl...read more
