| Writing his tongue | Speaking Blood Voice | So Sade!
Writing relieves the tension of over-thinking, stops the bleeding, cauterizes the sense, temporarily closes the still moist wound.
focus on existence
In search of a life less ordinary than life
Writing relieves the tension of over-thinking, stops the bleeding, cauterizes the sense, temporarily closes the still moist wound.
Even alone, one may not be in tune with one's inner self. We are too afraid that it is a crime. Fortunately there is the mask to help us be.
There's the work that we don't do, that makes other works do... that feeds them all the time... the great mass that is huge... it's beautiful... good night...
First sleepless night. I have become accustomed to seeing my nights as a succession of hours and not as a whole stretch that opposes the day.
...voluntarily alone and totally naked, left to oneself, a few kilometers away from a city that one is preparing not to flee, but to invest...
That I am forced to compromise and I cast off for other skies, sad, but consistent with my desire for autonomy.
Theatre, wandering creature, eternally dying, adrift, floating in its sea of excrement like a cacochymous whale
Making one's existence more "important" to oneself by just a few milliliters of an outrageously dissolved solution of self-knowledge.
Adult, your world is a mistake from start to finish. You have been wrong and always will be. In doing so, you are dragging us, those of us who do not want to be part of your world.
It is human and tribal to have to be constantly reassured about one's membership in a community and the relative state of one's loneliness