This ethics is how the other affects me.
The Other burns him into my skin, and penetrates me.
The Other does everything to me, except “let me be.”
The Other brings me a trauma which heals.
The Other does not permit me to be along, but leaves me no choice than to come out of my shell, to step outside, to bare myself and stand in a nakedness.
It is more naked than that of my bare skin, for it inverts my skin, turns it inside out.
I become an outside without an inside.
The “proximity” means the nearness of the neighbor.
I feel anxiety in and through the oppressive proximity of the Other.
The Other disturbs me. Yet this is a disturbance which liberates me.
There is the proximity of saying.
Not through what it says, but through that it says.
What came to wound the subject, so that he would expose his thoughts or himself in his saying?
There is an acknowledgment and recognition of the bleeding wound of saying which cannot heal.
Before it says something, the saying says and it says itself, expresses itself.
The trauma is triggered by the proximity of the Other.
There is something counter-intuitive about this trauma.
The trauma does not alienate me, but purifies and elevates me.
Instead of limiting my freedom, the trauma establishes it or invents it.
I am healed by a shock that uproots me, knocks me loose and tears me away from my every anchoring.
Why would penetration of the Other be anything but brutal violence?
How do we understand the notion of a trauma without alienation?