I know that the fact I’m making it makes me inseparable from it. But I want to be separated from it also. And it’s the nature of what’s in it: This music is about something so interior or raw. And then that makes you shyer about sharing it even though you’re making the choice to share it.
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There looms, within abjection, one of those violent, dark revolts of being, directed against a threat that seems to emanate from an exorbitant outside or inside, ejected beyond the scope of the possible, the tolerable, the thinkable. It lies there, quite close, but it cannot be assimilated. It beseeches, worries, and fascinates desire, which, nevertheless, does not let itself be seduced. Apprehensive, desire turns aside; sickened, it rejects.
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Julia Kristeva | Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection