Between a faith profession & a heart attack
I wake up late even today.That’s fine anyway.
I sleep well usually, at strange hours, but fine…when I touch the bed I hardly stay up to think at all the balls-breaking things of the day. I enjoy the darkness coming (ahah!) with a sense of revenge. Sleeping is the cure, no doubts. I would like to grab a bag, go to Alaska and never come back, but it’s not as easy, so I sleep.
No wake up clocks, so I woke up to leave the cats outside…played my trumpet for an hour or so, a discrete play after all, even if I don’t want to be anyone. I went down in the street in the afternoon for going in my office, added as every fucking day the water to the radiator of my rotten car. The more it gets wasted, the more i love it, like a girl that has been nice and happy but then life changed, she collapsed and now she’s not very well. all those defects add, or better, ARE fascination for me.
I left the car at the underground, and going down I heard some ripetitive blows..a man was kicking and trowing fists to an automatic breakfast machine that stole his coins… I hit the damn thief for a couple of minutes in the general disgust..Probably he was not fighting the machine, but all humanity and judging from how he was fighting and swearing he had enough from a while…
My train, I go up, adjust my camera and take a couple of shots of an old woman with a fur and red lipstick all around the mouth…just to go out in Central station between people running to the trains… Everyone runs, everyone is without money: people, government, banks, industries: who the fuck took all the fucked money? I take a toast in a bar and there is one thousand people around and one thousand words…I don’t hate them, they are just there, like an ash tray, a calendar or a pen-holder. I don’t care, that’s all.
A lot of people walk the sidewalks, some black and white shots come back to my mind: I would like to realize a new gallery that includes broken glass, hands, face, blurred things, street photography, nudity..I have some idea and some new shot archived something between a faith profession and an epileptic attack, like a Chinese Restaurant in Cuba. Let’s say I have to work on perversions.
I can start today, If I can get back to the car before everyone starts moving back from prison and start filling and moving along the road like shit on the river.

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