Are you playing naked?
A new free and raw blog, as a necessary refuge for the written word. A little secret but not stuttering and spontaneously readable for anyone who would like to come there.
survive
Thinking of methods and ingredients needed to keep the nostrils above the surface of the water
A new free and raw blog, as a necessary refuge for the written word. A little secret but not stuttering and spontaneously readable for anyone who would like to come there.
My art of living is nourished by the joyful obscenity of childhood; disguises, make-up, genitals manipulated like toys and sexualities...
As Victor says about the spider and the nettle - not Dr. Frankenstein, but his friend old Hugo - I love hate because we hate it.
My great adaptability is an absolute violence to me. I hate any relationship that forces me to do so. Rare is the one that goes the way I want it to.
In a society of puppets, it is natural to become puppets. It remains to be able to endow them with singular bodies and adequate heads.
Enough to bivouac after the attacks and to take the air on a motorway area where you can park to enjoy the clear sky.
Artists, the real ones who would have something to say, hate the world and won't say anything to it, right? And it's much better that way, isn't it?
The true individual venturing out of his isolation room, faints on contact with the air. He refuses to be legibly embodied in his words and deeds...
Attempted social evasion | There's no room for social chatter here. Not even on a good morning. And that's just as well.
Time veils backwards, throws a theatrical tulle over the detailed vision of ancient crimes. The tragic beauty of history is more congenial than the impending horror.