I enjoy thinking through some kind of artistic discipline. If I see a movie I like, read a book, have a dream, or experience something that occupies my attention more than feels comfortable, I usually drawwrite a tale about it. I think the reason behind this behaviour is that I do not want to take away the magic of what I am thinking about. I am always interested in finding the balance where I am not afraid to make declarations, but at the same time, I do not say something simply because no better words are available in my vocabulary.
This page is mostly for sharing these contemplations.
Trying to stabilise desire
Zorro and I
(poetic story)
Zorró stepped onto the door handle. I was standing behind the counter, and sitting across from me — my ex.
“Drink!” — He paid.
I cried across from him, and in front of me.
I poured time for Zorró. John, beside me, died of life. He had always worn his eyes under his hat, not anymore.
We’re standing by the grave. Zorró seals the letter of mourning with his tears. “Look at me, Zorró! He’s our dead”
My sorrow moved
the dawn guitar,
It wept for days in my chest
Days passed.
I don’t know if we changed. Of course, we’re still different. Zorró is Adam and thinks a lot about the future, and I am Eve thinking thoughts.
To every girl, I advise Take care of your sighs.
rabbit
(on the body’s desire)
Dear Soft-skinned, How many times have I begged you to stop?
I tried to feed you with embers, but it is easier to swallow than to blaze the flame.
The pawn of your daring is emptiness, The paw of your effort is heaviness.
Why is it that you’re grief does not deny the breast? Why do you still fill your grown body with milk? When what you crave is not milk but blood-rush, not from a mother, but first for a man — then inside you, in the calm of knowing that the cock walks in as easily as it goes out of you?
Though it’s not all up to you From habit, at best, you’re a rabbit.