It's a very dark one. The first one would have been a kind of total vanity: there is nothing, basically. I mean it quite literally. Ultimately there are just some fragments, some vanishing things. If you look at the universe, it's just one big void. But then how do things emerge? Here I feel a kind of spontaneous affinity with quantum physics where, you know, the idea ... is that the universe is a void, but a kind of a positively charged void. And then, particular things appear when the balance of the void is disturbed. And I like this idea spontaneously very much: the fact that it's not just nothing—things are out there. It means that something went terribly wrong, that what we call creation is a kind of a cosmic imbalance, cosmic catastrophe, that things exist by mistake. And I am even ready to go to the end and to claim that the only way to counteract it is to assume the mistake and go to the end. And we have a name for this: it's called love. Isn't love precisely this kind of a cosmic imbalance? I was always disgusted with this notion of "I love the world," "universal love." I don't like the world.... I am basically somewhere in-between "I hate the world" and "I am indifferent towards it".... Love for me is an extremely violent act. Love is not "I love you all." Love means: I pick out something; it's again the structure of imbalance. Even if this something is just a small detail, a fragile individual person. I say, "I love you more than anything else": In this quite formal sense, LOVE IS EVIL.
(Y esto es sólo el principio).