With the coming of the imminent darkness, all these days sins commited in light would be forgiven.

My shadow lengthens on the wall, in an attempt to mask my lies and help me forget.

My body might be a poorly written poem, however it can't be edited without me hoping to remain me.

There are too many love songs in the world so to balance them in weigth, I shape my agnst by hurling it into strangely shaped pots and put them in lines to dry at these red shot windows.

I wanted to stay (away?), I wanted to be silent, I want to turn down everything that was making- music: guitars, violins, drums, cymbals, birds before I discovered that my sad little heart is also a player in our mad orchestra.

Given that I placed the speakers way behind the screen, the sound is hidden by sight, always, so close your eyes close your eyes and look! how the sound coming at you as a speeding motorcycle powered by my beating pulse.

No more masks, let me undress, first my shirt goes, then my pants, then my underwear that you found funny, then my glasses, then my skin, then the bone under the skin Now don't be suprised when you see this body turning into air.

2003:01:17 18:00 Atlanta (AD)