"This place is curious, this place is a non place. It’s not located in some secret corner of the soul, since there are no secrets; it’s actually devouring the entire inside, projecting itself on the outside… gaining substance, encouraging stings, thirst and hunger all around."
- Natura Principia
lie encrypted in the flickering of these stars in my mind. Testaments that
nothing is ever truly erased, everything exists… somehow, somewhere. Though something
is escaping this psyche, fading into nothingness… I guess that’s the poverty of
may be many things, I may be less than thing… but I’m always happy when
receiving a new pencil. The pleasure I have when I sharpen him for the first
time, the eagerness him and I both share in that mutual fresh beginning, the mysterious
ways which need to be described, new means to understand old languages. All those
secrets which must be discovered, in this life… a life worth every living. Philosopher’s
Stone in my midst, unforgotten truth of a beauty existing in all petite things;
that which we strive to diminish and take only for granted. I guess now we all witness
a ray of sunshine in my melancholy… melancholy translating itself into elation.
I breathe out pleasure, and I inhale some more of this good old red wine. Dry and
old, unlike me... crafted only to be drank with nothing less than a full occult satisfaction,
just like me:)
tells stories of madness and crimes devouring my youth.