η απορια του μη ησυχαζειν

Insomniac passing anhypnic nights in writing, translation, music, mathematics, programming and whatever else captures my attention or alleviates agrypnia.


This consists mostly of quotations of things that stand out to me or reflect what's on my mind; occasionally I also post original, often more personal, content as well, which may be found under the "personal" tag. Anything posted under "translations" is also original work and may broadly be taken as personal as well as I seldom tackle a work that does not speak to or for me in some way.

A (hopefully short) Hiatus

March 1st, 2014 9:37pm

This blog has functionally been on hiatus for a little while already, so this notice comes somewhat late, I realize, but I haven’t had a chance before now to make the post or respond to private messages, some of which will unfortunately still have to wait a while longer for reply.

I was recently diagnosed with cancer, and am about to enter into a period and cycle of radiation and chemotherapy which has already and will continue to sharply curtail any time I have available for posting, much less writing and releasing new music or doing new translations for the blog. Please feel free to continue to write, and I will do my best to respond as I have the time and energy, but I hope you will bear with me through the delays and slow response times through what will ideally be my recovery.

Thanks to all of you for all the kindness and support of my output the past few years; hopefully I’ll rejoin you soon enough.

—Daniel

November 29th, 2013 8:25pm
Je rêve d’une langue dont les mots, comme les poings, fracasseraient les mâchoires.

I dream of a language whose words, like fists, would fracture jaws.
E.M. Cioran, Le Mauvais démiurge, “Pensées étranglées” (1969; The Evil Demiurge, “Strangled Thoughts”, the Richard Howard translation)
November 28th, 2013 10:39pm
You are just a murky shadow, a hard kernel of indifference, a neutral gaze avoiding the gaze of others. Speechless lips, dead eyes. Henceforth you will be able to glimpse in the puddles, in the shop windows, in the gleaming bodywork of cars, the fleeting reflections of your decelerating life…Your memory is slowly penetrated by oblivion. Nothing has happened. Nothing will ever happen. The cracks in the ceiling trace an implausible labyrinth.
Georges Perec, A Man Asleep (1967)

(Source: glassrib)

November 28th, 2013 10:07pm
This is what happens. You piss blood one day and it somehow makes you think that maybe your life isn’t taking shape the way it’s meant to and, at thirty-two years old, if you’re going to be making any changes, you had best be making them quick. So you give it a whirl, and it’s like trying to make a ninety-degree turn in a speeding boat, and the whole thing just flips over, and you’re submerged in the frigid, churning waters, bobbing roughly in your own broken wake. And no matter which way you turn your desperate gaze, there’s absolutely no land in sight, which is strange, because you didn’t think you’d gone out that far to begin with.
Jonathan Tropper, Everything Changes (2005)

η απορια του μη ησυχαζειν

Insomniac passing anhypnic nights in writing, translation, music, mathematics, programming and whatever else captures my attention or alleviates agrypnia.


This consists mostly of quotations of things that stand out to me or reflect what's on my mind; occasionally I also post original, often more personal, content as well, which may be found under the "personal" tag. Anything posted under "translations" is also original work and may broadly be taken as personal as well as I seldom tackle a work that does not speak to or for me in some way.