giovedì 29 gennaio 2009
Sculpture
"The end of illusion brings the end of meaning. Is this the price for freedom?
He kissed me and when I opened my eyes, my body soaked in pleasure, before me stood a man mad. Afraid, prey to black demons, aggressive and evil. And I knew I'd love him.
Trapped within my ribs I carry the illusion of him. His soft voice in my mind makes my ears bleed and his flesh dissolves in my saliva. Like an octopus I squeeze black ink from my chest incessantly because we are not.
And now I know that I don't know anything."
Medusa
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