hate is a driving force and can make you want to get up in the mornings to get something done. you hate something, so it needs to change and you need to take action.
hate can be very real and energizing and a motor to outgrow some sort of crisis or down. just like criticism of dominating beliefs presupposes understanding and questioning the existing and opening up doors for imagining it differently and being sensitized for the possible.
why are people so against hate? maybe because they are afraid of being questioned in their power positions. as most values, it probably derived from some religious elite who proclaimed: love us, don´t hate us, to the people who were ment to stay people and the proclaimers who intended to stay proclaimers.
i like to hate certain things passionately. i don´t understand why i shouldn´t.
love makes you always miss and lack, like missing an imaginary limb, that is what ingmar bergman said when his wife died: it feels like i have lost my legs. it makes you miss the recipient of your love when (s)he is not there, or something inside (her)him, when (s)he is there. love makes you want to destroy and own. it is possesive and consequently makes you weak and dependent, because we never have what we think we have and in turn are owned by our desire to have. we cannot have anything really. but we can share and revel it for as long as we or it is around.
the common concept of love is a neurotic state of wanting to assimilate difference, in the worst case control and govern the other through subtle doctrines that you implement into your discourse, in the best case you just tolerate each other.
but why then cohabitate in declaired love at all? you might as well tolerate from a distance.
in a drastic, exaggerated way love is what bush did when he invaded irak: i love you, so i will bring you freedom and democracy. but noone had asked for this proof of love, and his love was a colonizing, egocentric, manipulative act of demonstrating hegemony.
often people only love those who are not worse off then themselves. those who posess something you in turn don´t have. that can be status, money, artistic or intellectual skills, a certain freedom of thought. what you do not have, you desire and mistake for love. (desire is probably the greatest get-you-out-of-bed-er)
love as a concept of 18th century romanticism has failed. we do not love with all our burning passion until we cease to exist. our desire is constantly distracted by its objects, thoughts, work, other people, the ephemera of our daily lives. we just get used to someone and suddenly start to need, whereas our initial love was for free and came just like that, with no claim for refund.
is the true conclusion of love the devouring and killing of the other like in nagisa oshima´s "realm of the senses"? the slow total destruction?
why is love and killing so intertwined?
lacan coined the phrase: i love you, but, inexplicably, i love something in you more than yourself, and, therefore, i destroy you.
deleuze said the whineyness of wanting to be loved so badly will only get you to the psychoanalysist and back into the realm of oedipus and co.
you must love and follow the directions and intensities of your passions, but you mustn´t hold onto things, cling to them and eventually suffocate them. be bold and courageous and in the world and go out and let go.
the family as institution of neurosis and repression.
still, we have only learned to live in these models and are overcome by solitude and too much of ourselves when we abandon them.
maybe that is what is nice about love: we can forget ourselves for a while and direct our energy on something other than our fears and troubles.
but then again love like knowledge and anything is constituted by power. power is neither good nor bad, but can have bad consequences when connected to manipulation and a disproportional abundance of it. catherine breillat said, power should only be used on ourselves. we should only control and govern ourselves.
so how to love?
loving someone just like that. celebrating (her)his existence. forgetting yourself. if you cease to think of yourself as a self that needs to be loved by mother and father and the rest of the world and understand yourself as a part of a picture you cannot completely overview, you feel in fine company and not lonely and detached and estranged at all. or maybe at least not to a pathological extent.
i cannot retrieve the irrationality of my feelings in the provided models to practice them. it is like trying to walk in shoes that don´t fit.
when i awake, i feel an urgent desire for thought. i like to read a bit, like to not have to work and not have to make money, i like to do nothing, like to think of people i admire and look up to, like to meet them and spend time, spend more time, -people who seem bold and daring and risk taking and living. i don´t mean adventurers. i don´t like adventures, i don´t like jumping off high rocks into the sea, don´t like muscled, athletic bodies. i mean people who will live and think in idiosyncratic ways, no matter what. people who will not be afraid to be considered ill, perverts, lunatics. people who do not wish to belong or be recognized. people who will just do stuff for the sake and beauty of it. -and it isn´t about idolizing and putting on shrines. there should be no god and no hope in my realm. just days and nights and people and fears that we face and deal with.
i don´t know why but i like the thought of a little fire at night, somewhere outside and lonely, some friends and me dancing around it, howling.