(Leerestelle, balance, white hole, soglia)
... Neither gravity nor lightness, mingled to the point of never being more than a superficial gravity or a leaden lightness. Happily, between the two, there is emptiness. There is a form. That of giddiness and risk. A sense of movement in a funnel, draining all toward a point, always the same: mental distance.
... In all the stations of my waiting for all trains, I raise my eyes to see whether the contours of cities viewed from on high are different or equivalent. And they are different and equivalent, becoming one and the same Western city, stretching out to cover all others.
... At the origins of the West, the Greeks gave it a premonitory image; Omphalos the Navel of the world.
The object is odd. A small hill of white marble; barely as tall as a man of medium height. I imagined that it was perforated at the top. I didn't check. The Chinese, on the other hand, believed that a mountain could not live without an inner flaw; without a vein of aspiration.