(before starting, I shall say that those who elect their childhood as their happiest moment in life are either lying or in need of professional psychiatric help. They are probably ready to jump. Those who are in contact with such an(-) individual(s), and who does not bear a medical credential, should exercise the ethics of unconditional and deinstitutionalized knowledge – generosity – and give them the push. However, kids who almost instinctively refuse to grow up are wise. They should manage not to grow up – wise that they are – through the exercise of the corrosive complacency behind any act of ethical generosity.. Whatever and however that might be. N. to T)

(before starting): “hire yourself to be the ghost writer of your own autobiography”

by daniela castro/_________________

1. To be in love – 1 dictionary result

Eng. [thcu bee in lœv*] (*with an accent; my accent. It is highly personal – not subjective – as it should be, obviously.)

• commitment to the feeling of love. Once proffered, it evokes the long lasting, wide and protestant sentiment of commitment that is projected from the now into the future. Though – due to a possible momentary hormone imbalance and religious belief - its elasticity comes with a necessary tone of authoritative permanence. Nobody is innocent. “To be in love” equals, for our purpose here, “life is worth living”, which, we know, is just another disguise to our innate fear of death.  And why shouldn’t it be?

1. Apaixonado – 1 dictionary result

Port (Br) [ahpeitionahto*] (*with a coined accent anticipating the linguistic turn as result or precursor of the fourth twisted and accidental round of globriclization).

[Latin “pathos”; disease, passion; impassionate]. It refers to an early and immediate stage of love; that of a blind observation, narcissistic observation of oneself onto what is projected to be the other. It is closer to an intoxication by the “other as same” than the “other as such” (this “such” being subjected to the scrutiny of a philosophy still powered by human spams with nose jobs and liposuctions). Never is the state of being “apaixonado” predicted or a reflection of one’s once frustrated desire being met. Rather, the state of being “apaixonado” could be envisioned as a new Maoist insurgence run by foxes and wolves; or something that saves me from the imperative solipsist mediocrity; or rids my mouth from the taste of the addiction to the press-release-like-complexity that swallows the world up.

N. to T. Dear translator, please translate instead of simply carrying the weight of the signs of the English codes into or onto or just to Catalan and Spanish. This act of equivalence has already been done and it just does not work, trust me. I love these languages too much to see this happen. And I have to tell you, to try to be faithful to the original, as it were, may put you in a situation where the weight to be carried will probably be way heavier than you are able to withhold for reasons that you and I not so secretly know. Since I know this text is written in English only to be translated to Catalan and Spanish, I am insecure. You can and should do whatever you want. Please substitute my name for yours as the author of this short text. But, if I may anticipate that – even if you don’t know yet – the problem is of a complacent order (not here necessarily, but as well as in our neoliberal capitalist project, which involves language, immateriality, money, mobility and happiness), please, please, please follow the definition of “complacency” as follows:

“Complacency: a feeling of quiet pleasure or security, often while unaware of some potential danger, defect, or the like; selfsatisfaction or smug satisfaction with an existing situation, condition, etc.”.

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If you are inclined to read this definition as close to “love” as it is, alas, felt and understood today, such as  “por el amor corrosivo detrás de cualquier etica de generosidad”, please do so. You are correct, for now. Hopefully, just for now.