I experience alternately two nights; one bad and one good. Most often I am in the very darkness of my desire; I know not what it wants, good itself is an evil to me, everything resounds, I live between blows, my head ringing; I am blinded by attachment to things and emotions. But sometimes too, it is another night; I think quite calmly about the other, as the other is; I suspend any interpretation; I enter into the night of non meaning; desire continues to vibrate (the darkness is transluminous), but there is nothing I want to grasp; this is the Night of non-profit, of subtle, invisible expenditure: I am here, sitting simply and calmly in the dark interior of love.
Roland Barthes. A Lover’s Discourse (via loveless-people)