The Boy.

One evening. He laughed, he laughed some more, he kept laughing until he was no more. One day he believed, he used to believe, he jumped, he used to jump. Crossing distances, he used to cross, sometimes running, sometimes jumping, until he was at a loss. He used to dream with distant shores, sometimes forests, sometimes fire. one night. He burned inside out from desire.

(L)

As the fog slowly lifts from the landscapes in your eyes, it reveals every corner of deception and embraced illusions that have been fed to you, through years, your senses unbecoming of numbness are purified to the stark point of sharp knives, ready to unleash, what is considerable and justified, it’s dawn, it’s time.

(N)

Close your eyes, create your own night, the dream is at hand, slipping through fingers, the guardians of tongues deny simple pleasures, while they can’t see, we illegally taste.

(F)

As it burns, it destroys, but also heals.

Nature.

Unrestrained creative process is chaotic and disorderly, the beauty of the spontaneous gives birth to primal instances accumulated through time and moment, in voracious instances creation is an end through natural means.

2019.

Rei de Nenhures. Servo de Lado Nenhum.

Thinking about Mishima.

The mind is usually betrayed by the heart. Thoughts craft the daggers that desecrate the blood that flow from the heart to feed the mind.