the body. expressivity versus pre-expressivity.
I admit I talk too much. unnecessarily and never end up saying what I want to say. count on the fact that I must be saying it somehow, beside myself.
sufficiently amourous words, sufficiently amourous bodies. souls on fire? rained on?
desire-producing machines, always the lack always the void. celebrate the unknown, do everything but never ever normalize. the normal is the abyss.
