Language for me is a repository of other people's thoughts. How do we understand a relation between thoughts and inquiries? "Le monde est rempli de résonances." You should sense a question in the repetition of the phrase. Is a resonance not a questionor does that exaggerate the question, make it more totalizing than it possibly could be? To be sure a question resonates. We think about questions, and that is another kind of resonance, perhaps a sign of response. I doubt the resonance of the question happens only because the question would be already of the world, as if its resonance weren't somehow enacted or engaged, though in one aspect the question always becomes a question of the world; it is always engaged, and the resonance of the question, or alternatively its displacement, also reaches laterally a scope for coexistence, a purpose arrived at indirectly, roundly.
I survey the map room as an assemblage of incalculable imagined journeys, an impossible sum. The purpose of the map has not been lost on me. "Has it gone on vacation?" the question arises. Where does certitude about the ultimate purposes of things have a place? In which room shall we find it? Do we ultimately discover the map room on the map?
An attention to reposition may be followed through in such a way as to not pay the composition of thoughts its proper respect, as if the composition were instantly decomposed for the sake of repositional exfoliation, the reawakening of reposited questions whose intensities have been muffled as if buried in snow. Yet we shouldn't be quick to judge whether an interpretation is proceeding properly or improperly. An interpretation should be allowed to resonate, if we are to appreciate it for its flowering. Composition may also be repository. It can indeed be engaged through a repositional exfoliation, particularly a latitudinarian repositonal exfoliation. Perhaps it is especially apparent in composition that thoughts are shared, or even that they must be shared for thought to resemble thought. At the moment I cannot imagine feeling the resonance of a question that has not been composed.
Might thought eventually shed its repositionality? Imagine then that all thoughts could evacuate the repository of thoughts, that this would be a possibility of thinking. Would such an evacuation ever be communicated? I'm curious about the possible existence of noncommunicative thoughts. Can I be told such a thought itself? How can I think it? Could I nevertheless be ready to hear its resonance?