I had arrived in Riga to visit a woman friend. Her house, the town, the language were unfamiliar to me. Nobody was expecting me, no one knew me. For two hours I walked the streets in solitude. Never again have I seen them so. From every gate a flame darted, each cornerstone sprayed sparks, and every streetcar came toward me like a fire engine. For she might have stepped out of the gateway, around the corner, been sitting in the streetcar. But of the two of us I had to be, at any price, the first to see the other. For had she touched me with the match of her eyes, I should have gone up like a magazine.
—Walter Benjamin, “One-Way Street”
… where every alleyway shows its colour and every word has a password for its echo. From Roswitha.
Having transgressed so many times before, I cannot do it again. I offer you, instead, my quiet evanescence.
(perhaps not so quiet. :)
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elyse-fisher reblogged this from chaosbogey
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chaosbogey reblogged this from shainin and added:
Having transgressed so many times before,...cannot do it again.
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roswitha reblogged this from shainin and added:
Street-plan. —...who is absent-minded. Whereas...my friends...
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shainin posted this
