"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
This city lives in pollution, nice and
thick, it blocks everything in sight; and all dark alleys fucked up with graffiti
on the walls become the centre of all centres, testing our yearn for vices,
this craving we have to do some more sin... and what happens there, stays
there, protected and secure in the conscience of the city. Not in ours, we don’t
have it anymore… conscience…
These fumes, they’re created from our disappointments,
and they grow vast further out in time. We have no idea where we’ve been, and
we hardly give a decent fuck where we’re going. In this jungle where everything
is erased but the exaltation in our need for greed, we’re chased only by
ourselves. Here, in this den, nature met its doom – it found us; here, our
lungs are filled with poisonous air, when our diseases grow in numbers, come, we
got them all.
… remembrance of what we were, even that
is lost. Things we’ve lost are measured in people… in this sad little blue
marble we call home, people are treated like things, accessories.
… and I am that Corto, incorrigible romantic, who still feels happiness beyond
description to my heart from our strength in numbers… the only baggage that I carry
is the gold of my faith in love, so I love some more.