Experience (n.) is simply that which is prior to all the inferential, scientific, thinking.
Experience (n.) must not be treated as so much dead material — systems of content that simply are but mean nothing, intend nothing.
Experience (n.) never gives me a thing as it is in itself, only something meant with certainty that must keep proving itself — and harmony so far never rules out illusion.
Experience (n.) is something that flows: from the present moment we can swim after it with our gaze, while the stretches we leave in our wake are lost to perception.
Experience (n.) points beyond itself, every actual one, to possible experiences, which point again to new ones, and so in infinitum — never arbitrarily, always motivated.
Experience (n.) is never pure: it comes infected with expectations and side-meanings not yet fulfilled, and perfecting it means letting further experience make good on them.
Experience (n.) has no perspectives: it does not shade itself off — where there is no being in space, it is senseless to speak of seeing from different sides.
Experience (n.) is dumb at the start: the task is to make it utter its own sense without adulteration — not to dissect it into sensations it never presented.
Experience (n.) is a mode of being at the level whereby it can be said that the 'I' experiences itself and has experiences of things, of lived bodies, and of other i's.
Experience (n.) is in itself a flow of becoming: a constant flow of retentions and protentions around a primordial phase, itself in flux, in which the living now comes to consciousness against its before and after.
Experience (n.) is never fully independent: each "stands in need of completion" by a context we do not choose — so two streams of consciousness can never share one fully determinate experience.
Experience's (n.) temporality is constituted by a consciousness that is not itself temporal. Subjective time becomes constituted in the absolute timeless consciousness, which is not an object.