Texty: Anorexia Nervosa. Exile. Sequence 1 - Spiritu Fornicationis.

Fruit of a consumed paralysis & Amok monkey who's brandishing a knife, pretends to kill to be absolut burned in the open / A soul thief, a determined subtleties - eater.

A dispossessed human machine suffering from withdrawal symptoms built in the most perfect opposition with the surrounding swamp / To flee .

The glaciation ... A vertigo to forget a little where we have fallen- A violent display of himself - This dream of a hand that can stop and any minute now a dream as we hope for it : simple but full of subdivisions / To know ...& yet nothing else is possible except what we have to think ... I wish the one would come , the one who will find the world that can't brush against any lips ... Any minutes now, I will fall in an indissoluble doubt ... Everything will be beyond me / To flee ?

From this informal toeing & froing there's no conclusion & no pneumatic wisdom ... How long will it still last ?

Every day , I get up & invited in front of the mirror ... While having an earnest desire to do it / Who could give it a name ? ... All that an earnest desire to do it / who could give it a name ? ... All that is ridiculous, i was there just now without knowing what to do & This is there books which drawing me my birth place / How long will it still last ?...& I close my eyes ... The rustle of the leaves is outside