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14 julho, 2011


What is a plan? 
I ask myself, you ask yourself, they ask themselves: what is a plan? 
I plan or am I planned?

There is, certainly, a way out. 
Is – certainly – there a way out? 

Do I believe or am I forced to believe?

I am moulded, you are moulded, he is moulded, she is moulded, it’s moulded, we are moulded, you’re moulded, they’re moulded. 

Is 'we' moulded?

Some would not agree. 
Is it necessary to agree? 
What if I do not want to agree? 
And if we 'does' not want to agree?
What if I do not want to agree?
And if I wanted to be I, first person of my own opinion?

If others ‘I’are made out of me, and these many me are we, what am I? 

I: the other or a collectivity?

We are a collectivity, a disintegrated collectivity, a shredded collectivity – miscellanea!

We are a collectivity willing to get united, but we are way too disintegrated; reduced to tiny and misshapen pieces.

We are snips, different colour snips, different shape snips, different names, scents, languages, motivations, culture snips. We are snips, and for being snips; disorganisation. 

We are disorganisation!

13 julho, 2011


Egon Schiele

I travel back and forth
in a time that is lost
neither dark nor light come
across my blind dawn;

I visage mysteries
through the mute boundaries
of my echoing hope
lisping the sibilant consonants...

hissing my soul...
shivering my ridge...
silencing my sin...
my being!