You want to seize on time itself. To grasp time. To ring-fence even that time that isn’t yours, isn’t organised, isn’t managed.
You’ll never just let time be. You’ll never let time be time.
Even this – even what we’re doing now. It’s just time-off. You’re understanding time negatively. Or recuperatively. As part of what makes you a productive person. Of what makes you work with a smile on your face.
Organisation Management wants everything we are. It wants to seize on so-called non-productivity. To seize upon just lying about. Upon time for nothing in particular. Time sacrificed to … nothing. Time burning up to the sky, as an offering to nothing.
You can’t understand idylls. Or breaks. You can’t understand the interval. The interstice. The walk outside. The air.
Questioning – what’s the temporality of that? Questioning, when you’re not even asking about anything. When you’re asking about everything. What happens then? Or doesn’t happen? What do you do, when you’re doing philosophy? Is this it? Just lying around? Contemplating?
Can you do philosophy in bed? Can you? Just lie around and … think?
You want to seize this. This nothing time. This purposelessness. When I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it.
Idle hours, right? Idling, right? Spinning the wheels, right? Watching the world go by, right?
It’s not even purposeless. It’s not privative. It can’t be defined negatively.
There aren’t words for it, because they’ve been driven out by organisation management and the ancestors of organisation management. By the regularisation of time. By the Gestell of the universe. The great enframing.
I’m a nothing-ist. I’m in favour of the nothing of time. When you always have your laptop open. Waiting to catch something. Waiting for an idea. To turn it into some kind of work.
You’re afraid of that kind of time, I can tell. You’re afraid of the afternoon. That’s the real story. The philosopher afraid of the time he’d liberate. That he’s sacrificing.
Work in Progress 