Here we have less writing by this humble commentator than last time probably. Well, take what you can get, I suppose.
While I recognize Barthes' frustrations in much of his language here (his distaste for other languages--though he learned English in school), I do like how he lists his likes and dislikes (on 116-117) and then states, plainly, that "this is of no importance to anyone," that it has no meaning. (117) But of course things mean (especially to the, or at least this, reader).
An interesting though: "what I write about myself is never the last word: the more 'sincere' I am, the more interpretable I am." (120) I should mention that, if Camera Lucida was a kind of eulogy for Barthes' mother, it seems almost as if this book is a kind of eulogy for Barthes himself.
Barthes was unfashionable. (125) As an aside, the remaining members of the band Queen said a similar thing about themselves (throughout the band's career) in a 2011 BBC documentary I watched this week.
A thought: if writing constantly risks being vulgar (because it supposes certain effects of discourse, what of photography? "The imaginary grasped" by photography, as by writing, does it also "grimace"? What do you think this might mean? What does Barthes think about photography, then? (126)
The Neutral is a "back-and-forth, an amoral oscillation." (132) (Is it "willy-nilly," then?) He reveals here that The Neutral is not a "third term" (a kind of pseudo-synthesis, if you will) but rather "at another link of the infinite chain of language," that is, a constant second term, of course, leading to more. (132-133)
Another note related to the one above: am I correct in understanding that sleep (or, specifically, taking a nap at a bar) is the third term to "speaking/keeping silent"? (142)
The difficulty remains high with some of these fragments; his playfulness is highly evident though (though he seems to deny its presence).