Bern, the 31.10. 1999
Dear Doctor
I don't even want to tell you about my "experiences" with the acne pill Roakkutan. It burns my bones, distilled my bowels. My inner conflict lasted for a few days: take in, be dead a few months. Instead, with pure facial leaves, emerge from this mess with a recovered identity card! Or become a crater there, for compost apple skin, there, where the soul lives, the greatest and only vulnerability and nudity; in the face!
Unfortunately, I had to stop taking the pink pill because of the most severe side effects and flee to the country in my old parents' house, to hide my nakedness indefinitely. From whom?? Before the vain, glattpolierten, clumsy, sneaker-like world screen, for example?
doctor, you know what: I've only lived for pleasure so far! For magic and seduction! Me little one, stupid gosling! But now, where I no longer have a beautiful face, but a defaced one, an ugly one, vernarbtes, I have to take pleasure in an ugly one, dry, dutiful, profound profound, listless, serious life, from the soon, so i hope, the real real beauty will already emerge! A beauty, Which nobody looks at you and with which you are left alone, because you can't see them in your face.
Sincerely yours
J. Storm
(1999, the Bordi-Collection)