Everyday life invents itself by poaching in countless ways on the property of others.

First, if it is true that a spatial order organizes an ensemble of possibilities (e.g., by a place in which one can move) and interdictions (e.g., by a wall that prevents one from going further), than the walked actualizes some of these possibilities. In that way, he makes them exist as well as emerge. But he also moves them about and he invents others, since the crossing, drifting away, or improvisation of walking privilege, transform, or abandon spatial elements.

More than its utilitarian and technocratic transparency, it is the opaque ambivalence of its oddities that makes the city livable.

Everyday life invents itself by poaching in countless ways on the property of others.

An absence of meaning opens a gap in time.

The only freedom supposed to be left to the masses is that of grazing on the ration of simulacra the system distributes to each individual.

A memory is only a Prince Charming who stays just long enough to awaken the Sleeping Beauties of our wordless stories.