to Sylvia (Love Box)

Help me to believe that I am no longer a woman. She is young, simple, pretty, and she is everywhere. I can hear her laugh. Laugh! What began with a female body must end with a acurate word. For the two of us, Sylvia. Or with a hallucinati ...

3004_Diary_telling yourself your own story

The history, that I have to tell myself is like this, that I can't invite anyone to it, to listen to me. I wrote down this story, because I had no option, to escape her through another. One should be free about it ...

Lacan's term: The Real

Lacan's Reale. This terrible real thing, that can catch up with you, when an excessive moment dissolves reality like the objects and colors in a painting. This painting, that I'm looking at, Year after year, this reality, seen ...