Abstract

Something escapes us, almost imperceptible. It touches us, it goes through us, and it builds us. And we are transformed, and that which transformed us is transformed along too. We are lines, we are by them and them by us, we are others, we are no longer the same. Something has happened. Nothing is given, its far from being so: there’s nothing simple in the lines that cross us.We ask, what is that which imprisons life? Its not only the binary tree that has made us suffer. In each line we can find a mortal risk. Deleuze yells to us: “become multiplicities!”, but he knows it will never be enough. How to become, then, nomad thought? How to free ourselves from the petrification of the molar line, being able to create, produce, and become the line flight? Every musical, written, philosophical, artistic invention yells for the freedom of the line. Life does so too. Explode ourselves, impersonalize us, being an “I” no more, not being anyone. What has happened?