Love is what burns with words: Dossier Intemperie: políticas de la voluntad y poéticas del cobijo
She and I live in different cities. People around me say it's a "love from afar". It seems to me a stupid label, or in any case, redundant: love is always a certain distance, which opens and ditches. It is a going away and a coming back, a leaving and a returning, a not-being that scu...
Guardado en:
| Autor principal: | |
|---|---|
| Formato: | Artículo revista |
| Lenguaje: | Español |
| Publicado: |
Centro de Investigaciones de la Facultad de Filosofía y Humanidades
2023
|
| Materias: | |
| Acceso en línea: | https://revistas.unc.edu.ar/index.php/etcetera/article/view/41923 |
| Aporte de: |
| Sumario: | She and I live in different cities. People around me say it's a "love from afar". It seems to me a stupid label, or in any case, redundant: love is always a certain distance, which opens and ditches. It is a going away and a coming back, a leaving and a returning, a not-being that sculpts the measure of being, and a being that weaves the labyrinths of a new separation. Without distance, love withers, because lovers need to gain a novelty to offer the other. It is necessary for those who love to live the world, each one on his or her own, to have a story to tell the other. Of course they can have shared experiences, common experiences. But even the same situation is processed differently, so that the rule holds true: those who do not move away cannot come closer, those who do not live autonomously do not have a story to serve at the table. "Love from afar" does not exist, nor does "love from near". What exists is love. |
|---|