The Process - The Sleeping Beauty that ...

The Sleeping that bite the green apple, and not put her finger on a Roca.

For Thais de Almeida Prado

Statements about the process of Creation

The Sleeping Beauty Green Apple that Bit and not put his finger on Roca arose from a personal research began in 2005 on the work of British filmmaker Peter Greenaway.

During this period, drew up the will to put the body on the scene from some issues that the work of Greenaway addressed. The idea was to make a performance into a dialogue with the artist's work, but I still had no idea how to work this performance without it becoming a transposition of the work of Greenaway film to scene. Sought as the primary basis for this construction the question of the dead body (element brought Butoh's) and its degenerative process.

In 2007, with the coming of the filmmaker to Brazil, I found the best place to put research into practice. Decided to risk and propose the ground for his exhibition The Tulse Luper Suitcases.During the conversations I found an opening for dialogue with "The Tulse Luper Suitcases", a bag of No. 40 entitled "The Sleeping Beauty, that the design of Greenaway contain a woman sleeping at the exhibition opening.I suggested then that I was the woman's Suitcase No. 40 and that there could develop my solo.

During the proposition of the project to Greenaway and his team, and influenced by texts of Hilda Hilst and the recent death of my maternal grandmother who used to write diaries, I chose to have a bedside book in my bag where I could develop a daily writing and stay open to the public during my writing process.

It would be a book case or a performance of writing a book or performer.

A week before the opening of the exhibition, invited the artist Nathalia Lorda to make video recordings of the work and to talk with me in creating a video performance.

The meeting between video, body, and writing process were the basis for this work that still resonates with the production of a video installation and a proposal for the book's publication performance.

On the procedures

To think about my body on display in the process and influences the work of Sophie Calle (Les Panoplies), I created a set of constraints and rules that I follow every day.Should go every day and stay for at least 1 hour exposure at writing and finding my relations with space.

At the opening of the exhibition, from talks with Greenaway, I decided that I would be lying in the trunk, eyes closed and would not move during the four hours of opening. Greenaway for the idea was that I really slept. For me, the best would be to fight against sleep and let me lead the state of dormancy where reality and dreams get confused. On this first day in a state "somnambulist", many images came up with the inconvenience of immobility, with public comment and with breath that became a focus in times of difficulty.

In the days that followed I tried to bring up all these images and feed me the feeling that the public space and produced. When he was not lying, was in space. He would often stop in a state of contemplation. I watched the others, and for a few moments someone perceived to be seen.

"The Sleeping Beauty" was like one of those images, like a living object in the middle of space where matter degeneration was very advanced.

My actions were minimal, but noticeable. Breathed, cried, smiled, wrote. Playing with the block of ice that melted in another bag, looked in the eye of someone for seconds, minutes, hours. The search was to be "present" (the "it"), to be seen without focus, without being noticed to be an event. It was just me. She. From white nightgown.

Many times when I was not in space, the presence of women has remained Jersey. The Book of the Sleeping Beauty was there for the public eye, and they sought me. There was a mystery to seek this woman who was not always found. The crowd then began to write me letters in response to the book and I ate it and "intertextualize" books, fragments of films of Greenaway, letters to the public, the invention of stories and my relationship with space, etc..

It was a very intense process and at the same time delicate. During the course my body felt a physical transformation, sleep in my own bed was no longer natural, and sleeping bag at No. 40 either. I spent a month (exposure period) without wanting to go out and do other things. Space confines me to a weird but pleasant.

The subject process is configured as expected. It was the Constancia, Permanence. A game where the minimum became the maximum.

The Green Apple that I bit into the opening and stood at the head of my bag next to the book and a jug of water for 1 month, rotted with time. It was my time at that moment and maybe I was her.

The Sleeping Beauty that ...

First fragment

The Book of the Sleeping

Suitcase No. 40

The Sleeping to bite the green apple, and not put her finger on a Roca.

I prepare for sleep.

In bed sheets, pillows, a bedspread or quilt.

A Harp.

I prepare to sleep and lie down.

Lie down to wait. to wait ...

Charlotte, Catherine, Véronique, Esther, Hilda, Sophie and many others.

Lie down to wait or may not see more time pass.

To simply does not sink.

Simply forget.

Water, apples, my book. Maybe figs. Can I get hungry.

Lie down to breathe.

He looks at me. Sit next to me. Watch me. a look at the sea.

Sounds all around. Light everywhere. and here I am ... so small. trying to empty somehow. Search the void. Zero.

LOOK TO THE SEA .....

Looking for a pen.

I think not.

Grab a pencil.

Write. My body shakes.

The sounds do not leave my head.

Voices that do not stop.

I want to cry but can not.

I want to cry and I can not.

I lost my flow

My writings

I hear footsteps. people.

Someone looks at me with pity. Not to be sorry.

Want to write for my move. Without stopping. Do not want to stop.

Scribble ... scrawl

Some balls in my body.

I think the heat ...

I am alone. But no. Someone passes.

He left a crystal in my book and waved

give a smile ...

gone.

And I was. A happy melancholy.

The tip of the pencil and just have to get another. The pencil box of Ruby.

Now look at the crystal that I won.

Do not want to stop writing. can not stop.

I suspect ... scream

Someone picks up.

The voices do not stop.

The tip of the pencil

went

Someone looks into my eyes.

Not decipher fine.

the pencil ...

where the pencil

Wait for someone that is not enough

not enough ...

I stole a pencil on the side here

A place full of pencils ...

here there are many of these.

ask me something.

will answer that?

I think the desire to write is exhausting

Am I emptied?

You want to know my story ...?

But I do not have one.

I expect one.

Close your eyes

I do not want that image is gone

I am in a field of red roses. They fall on my body. fall and do not stop. fall and begin to choke me. begin to fall and cut myself.

Close your eyes and does nothing.

They keep falling on me.

the scent is very strong. is good. but chokes.

I'm drowning.

Ask me many things here. but I do not want to answer. I have no answers.

I dreamed I was the man who knew everything, but I know nothing.

want to write. I do not.

It was once a beautiful girl.

iso heard somewhere ...

10.

My mouth is dry.

This place is very dry. very dry. Burning.

An apple rotting on my side ...

Am I?

(A figure assumed to be ecstatic that my)

My body wants to move but can not.

Static.

The body no longer obeys.

Someone once called the body of his brother ass

"I must have a serious talk with you ass brother." I need to move me out of here before it gets like this apple on my side.

Green, but rotten.

A field with many shoes.

I'm lying in them.

Voices ...

I think at some point agreement.

try to move my eyes.

do not move

As if it were impossible to open.

Today not want to look for anyone.

hurts ...

I heard voices welcoming. I am calm.

Today I am full of voids.

and once again the pencil sabotages me ...

steal other ...

My hand on the paper tries to express something ...

I think not leave.

Exhausted ...

Fragments of dreams, thrills.

do sleep?

still sleep?

Yesterday I cried. it made me cry.

Today only contemplate.

No one sings me to sleep ...

Another pencil stolen ...

it has more color, but is more ugly.

Many images now.

I decided to write ...

"Seeking a street empty of you," said the lad.

Here all the streets are empty of you. I can only see their fragments. their tracks ...

Today I found a small coffin. I lay on it and stayed there for awhile. I do not know exactly what made me do it. perhaps the desire to meet you at some piece of something here. Pieces of thing without you.

I lay on the beach.

the sand was very hot and very cold water. two contrasts in relation to my body lying in the sand. Water hitting ... and I there. Only. Breathing. Breathing.

I can not express the images. It was not that. Was another.

This pencil is too dark. represses me maybe ...

Familiar voices ...

are reassuring

But it hurts when they disappear.

Because they disappear?

because they go away?

I'm here and I hope ...

Maybe you should use the suggestion of a friend and save all those voices in bottles, or jars. Jars of Honey. Jelly.

And every time I felt abandoned would open one of the pots to hear a voice.

92 / 2 for each.

for everything from space

empty for each of you

for every tear finished drain.

I feel cold, a cold biting through.

Today is cruel

Burra and night

Nobody tells me stories while I sleep.

There once was a girl who was waiting for a story. perhaps a story about it. a story about his life. a stupid one ...

"That's not how you start a story?".

I'm afraid.

Today they came to me.

Are many and are sadists. Came near me and stole all the air.

I am without wills.

I wanted someone to tell me a beautiful story. Not to be swallowed by them.

Must follow the yellow bands, at least they give me some confidence when I open my eyes.

I am alone. The music plays.

I'm scared. My heart races.

blank sheets

blank sheets too scary. I need to fill in the blanks.

Tired of Emptiness. I want the full now. the swelling and inflammation.

(21)

Blank ...

(22)

Redundancies ...

I am a joint redundancy. my improvisation does not change. Remains.

Listened to a somber, lying on the grassy ground. The moving image.

I lie

The rain that fell cold.

Trickled

I did drain. I mixed the ground lawn, I turned earth or who knows what. I was no more.

Another was still waiting.

waiting for a beautiful story perhaps.

I can not tell stories. They are interspersed.

People wave. Are far from me.

Contemplate.

I need envelopes.

(23)

It's always the same sound. he returns every second like a bee buzzing in my ears, like a watch desperate warning me about something they do not know.

My breath can not escape your own pace.

Follow the yellow lines.

Want to cross the fence and stop.

I'm afraid to leave ...

outside is cold.

24 - first objects

Ice

a feeling of pain and burning, pain and burning. pleasure. an explosion. ecstasy.

The kiss.

Penalty

subtle. delicate. Calm ... cherishes.

Glass

cutting. broken glass. tear. separation of the skin. inflames and pours the red liquid.

scars.

Grid

where one expects. cold. nostalgic.

Pencil

that I will not miss words.

Paper

blank. scent of woman. whisper.

(25)

I am serene.

The fear is gone.

I loved someone ...

(26)

I'm on page 33 of my book.

Count is good. I do not think. Said on the count of the numbers.

Do not think is good. It makes me act.

Within this inaction, react.

Say 33. He said.

Today everything is very quiet.

I received a letter.

Contemplated.

Today was my turn to look.

Today I need not say anything.

Some dreams mingle with reality. Perhaps it is better not to know what is real.

A confusion that keeps me alive, pulsating.

The apple in my hand is wrinkled. Like an old lady waiting time pass.

She suffers interference this time.

A still life dying more each day.

Today I am no longer an apple. maybe tomorrow

I try to leave, but the temptation is to stay.

Feeling short time. little like me.

The inaction of an action continues.

(Scribbles in the book)

I gave up again.

A well dropout even before the actual attempt.

or maybe it's just a misunderstanding ...

An absence ...

Something is missing.

a part of me.

a part of me is gone now.

Is Back?

Return

Each day more and more empty.

Breathe a little to fill the From Within

From The Inside.

31.

Again.

I remembered a snippet of text that was more or less well

"In these ways the early start,

Start now

These paths are extemporaneous exchanges "

funny coming so ...

"What am I doing here?

I'm improvising "

Today the ants came from my body. Several of them I felt prickly. Generate involuntary movements in my limbs. the light came and went. I was rest, dust fragment.

Teeth, ribs, meat.

If I'm real? Yes, I think so. Many times I get confused.

One girl one day her story began with a phrase which today not leave my head.

Empty and full

Empty and full ...

So short but so much information.

I like that Empty and Full. The ants have taken notice. Pass me by and leave their traces. paths. Invade each party. Take away my privacy.

I want to run and scream.

No.

I will not say more

Nothing

The Corps Donkey does not match.

The body Brother Ass not responding to my commands. or else my commands do not correspond to the shutdown of a body invaded by ants.

They have a sweet taste.

Start to invade them too. biting one by one.

Home for their small feet, like the trunk and then the head of inconspicuous antennas.

I want to eat them and leave them to become my own rest. My own dust.

(Gibberish)

Here the errors are visible.

I found that my book is upside down.

I confess I like the reversal of things.

I'm hungry. Longing.

(Gibberish)

What am I doing here?

I'm in a state of contemplation.

so to speak.

Gaze to wait.

I hope to contemplate.

The others are there. Here they are.

look at me contemplate.

look upon me.

I need space

Empty Spaces

Spaces between the vertebrae.

I need to find a space (scribbles)

Here the errors are noticeable.

My mouth is dry and can not complete my ideas.

A girl once said that in situations of fear our mouths dry.

She said to spend a wet cloth over the lips to "confront" fear.

I need a wet cloth for my mouth is dry and no water resolves.

The water does not solve.

You could moisten my mouth? perhaps with his own.

Give me your hand?

But you do not exist. is not.

The bags are only fragments.

like me and the ants

I want more cards.

I'm standing with the pencil in his hand in front of the notebook to more than 1 minute and could not write anything.

Stop

Images only pass, but not fixed.

Remains still.

1 minute for each sentence.

for each shift of focus in space.

Unbalanced

Today everything I write scribble.

I've been stumbling ...

Rise and fall.

floor eggs, fall into eggs.

Someone says hi.

Eye only. I need not respond.

I do not know.

Know?

Look to understand who he is, what it is. But I do not understand.

Where could it have been?

Or does he just said hi to say hi.

Educated.

Here always say Good Morning

But I do not.

A train station ...

People around me. And here I am. Without saying hi. As in a dream that turns into something that is not.

I think I changed the subject too quickly.

But also I do not remember the subject.

(Gibberish)

I realized that I have received letter today.

"Charter is good,

but does not change the fact that I continued alone. "

How long does such a letter, like this harp, it takes to get somewhere?

Today I can not preach my eyes. They want to see everything and everyone ...

What is the best place to get this harp? How far can I go?

I want a cup of honey to drink until the end of the pot. It will be hard to stop because it is not like water and so it needs a spatula or hands, or my tongue.

ferina. like dogs.

I dreamed I could be a dog. But the dog is the one that is close by.

Always awake. looking.

Someone once said the eyes of the dog.

But I do not remember what they said.

I think it was about a man who no longer felt in his own body. As if the body did not have more sense. Women, children ...

he liked to stay in the brothel reading. The most peaceful place to read in the morning. I think he also had a friend who loved a nut.

He was married to her.

The nut understood him and he understood the nut.

I think I had a tree in history. An old tree perhaps. I do not remember exactly what happened, nor the relationship of the dog with everything. or was it a bitch?

Here the nut and the dog slept.

Apples and figs rot rot.

And one ever died from poisoning by figs. Or he thought he was being poisoned and died.

I can not preach the eyes, but I feel that people want to see my eyes closed.

I spoke of a train at some point ... Why?

Perhaps because walking in the range of security I do not derail. But even derail what?

Once found in a suitcase that the lesser. a suitcase that was not for harps. and had no sheets, pillows, paper ...

In it they found a woman. But his arms and legs were no longer part of your trunk. His head out of place.

Maybe she put her head in her lap to listen to her womb. her baby in the womb.

She was dismantled, but still existed there. Inside a bag for clothes that would travel at the hands of her husband.

He wanted to send it to somewhere better.

Perhaps the place where they lived was not a good place to live.

Does that this bag contains a harp she goes further?

There was a boy who ... No, actually there was some boy. It is a lie.

I hear many voices. People are having fun.

I want to get into the water and dive, dive, dive to get to where you can not reach. Is there such a place?

If you do not get as saying that there?

My God, what rubbish! She said.

Anyway, what matters is that I need to dive.

Dive and feel the weight of water over my body.

higher density.

want what is dense.

movements quieter, yet strong.

serenity.

A girl wrote in her notebook with lists of things that gave him more pleasure.

As time went on to write lists of things he hated.

Your need to write also caused her to start writing books on the bodies of their lovers.

His greatest book was her real lover.

his skin was removed.

the meat and offal, nothing else.

There are still many blank sheets here.

and still no list of likes and dislikes.

Now put three envelopes here.

(Gibberish)

A host of suspects does not stop beeping.

Sometimes I see a factory full of machines. Must be careful not to bump into any of them and not look like me at all.

I think I'm being handled now.

My eyes are heavy.

I think waiting will not make me come ...

I'm afraid to close my eyes and never come back. I feel increasingly like the apple on my side.

My skin starts to stick in my bones. It's like I started to turn my own skeleton. My lips stick to one another and require much strength in my jaw so I can open them.

The water never stops flowing.

Resection

A woman's skeleton.

There once was a woman skeleton that hung in the boat of your lover. He was afraid of her and ran into the waters at a speed more quickly to escape. she never let go. its skeleton were broken up on rocks in river. the man did not look back and ran. ran forever.

I need somewhere to hang does not disappear.

Increasingly, the water flows. Empties.

Do not want to close my eyes.

I can no longer turn a blind eye.

Can anyone tell me a story to sleep?

Someone tried to tell me a story.

When I opened my eyes he was scared and ran.

Breathing pauses.

Breathing pauses

Respiration.

Loved someone.

Now a lull

a lull of ideas.

He saw me, you just need to come get me.

My skin is becoming more bone bone.

Today I kissed the ice for no more dry.

Hugged, loved and stole the ice trust.

needed water.

After I let it melted and left.

Please, when I'm not, I am.

I just steal another pencil. fine point. good to write. writing is good.

Calm.

I just got a letter about my writings.

walk, but again I write because today I am frigid.

I can not. I can not.

Look at everything and nothing.

Lack feel what changes. transcending.

Lack wake to sleep.

People write to me now.

It's good.

I confess I'm curious as to who is each letter.

Anonymous letters

anonymous statements.

And I stand alone, without knowing with whom I correspond.

Someone wrote:

"I'm in love,

But not with you ... "

Who would have written here? when I arrived was already.

Will seemed to be "in love is?

replied:

"Nope. Just for a friend. "

Today I am Frigid. Do not feel ...

Someone wrote:

"You is not music, but lies as the Harp."

and someone else:

"The nut wanted to twist the tail ... It was!

You will now have to finish the task Brazil ...

What is Unique "

I do not like when people write on my bedside book. The head is my head.

I'm confused.

Everything is so confusing ...

I would like to receive in letters, in roles that I can paste.

Here in my book I'm really confused.

As if those were my thoughts. and are not.

Today I feel inside a circle. I go back to the same point, and back to the same point ...

endless ...

breathe me cry.

received letters today. I feel more full.

maybe people want to fill the blank pages of my book. my white.

The music always comes back to the same place.

no beginning, middle or end ...

I think I was perceived at the time the apex of my confusion. I think. I do not know what to do if I run ... and the song remains the same pace. without stopping.

I cried a lot now

I cried for breath.

It was good

I am light.

confusion over ...

I think now things are simpler.

They go and look at me. But now everything is fine. Now everything is fine.

"Up and down

up and down. "

The lines ... should be the lines ... lines.

The lines, they have no beginning or end.

They are. simply are.

Someone smiles. This is now.

Today I am cold.

There is something different in the air.

The perfume is no longer the same breath and made me cry.

While I slept through many rows of lights. tracks. several. they moved and seemed to be hot.

There was a song that also appeared with such bands of light.

It was a good environment. Cozy.

He was not afraid of anything.

Was right in the middle of all those lights.

But then awake and feel cold.

I see the apple and I see the chair beside the apple.

A girl once wrote something like:

"The chair, which is next to me I is an object. Useless as I look. Tell me please what time it is because I want to know if I'm living at this hour. "

The chair, apple wilt beside me, a harp and her handbag.

I found that I can hear sounds. Many of them.

Maybe I really have made me the harp of this case and has not given me of it.

The stock music, I stock.

Emit sounds without stopping, how to dance.

no need to stop.

is Good

Gets me closer to you

Heard his voice next to me at first. Not anymore.

The cup water evaporates, it decided not to drink it.

It vanishes, like this apple ... each day less

There is a suitcase with many apples. It was there that took this.

The suitcase is fragrant, and apples still appear very bright.

But this is not by my side. May have been sick for not being with your traveling companions.

Someone wrote me that the apple could be old age and that I could be afraid of old age.

Watch the apple and think beautiful.

Someone wrote me that he cried when he saw her. The apple. It's so nice that someone cries.

Someone who cries to see an apple ...

Someone who cries just because you cry.

There was a lady. Matron of a large green eyes, green color of this apple. She said that after old did not cry anymore. I'd cried all. It also said that she always saw the tears. Not even when her husband died.

She told me many things in her life.

One was that his great love died waiting. In his youth he did something she never forgave. He married, but his feeling for each other remained.

The husband died and she continued with her eyes big and green.

Always very strong.

Many years passed and she found that young man who had loved in his youth had died.

His big eyes, green and started to get very strong opaque. They began to wither. As this apple. Six months later she died. died without ... ...

I tried not to cry for her, I really was not anything of strong girl crying. but no ...

I cried ... and then got lighter.

As the feathers flying here. Like the shell of an egg when it is empty ... without clear ... without yolk.

Crying is good

calm

Today I saw a young man who smiled at me. Tried to give me a fright. I smiled.

Antagonists cry and laugh.

Is not it sad ... not funny ...

simply is.

the "it"

"What am I doing here? I'm improvising. "

What saves me is the Scream "

The tip of the pencil

where the pencil

ending ...

They are many here.

scream, speak loudly.

scare me.

a sadistic joke.

They are sadists.

Note: this metric does not exist. It is to be so, anyway.

In response to a question:

Why, Why?

For this habit of rationalizing everything? understand what?

I think it has to understand. not the way you want to understand. Live your impressions. do not ask me to explain. I do not have that right. Lets its subjective to be himself.

Do not know if this was the answer. but this time it was so.

There are many errors here. agreement errors, spelling ...

I write slower than I think.

It is, errors are visible here. I will not correct now. only perceive them. error is anyway.

One day I stand corrected.

Now I put clear in the beautiful and the ugly ...

errors ...

I assume the errors.

(

Stop.

The perfume of the book brought me memories.

One day I made a list of

(Gibberish)

Still Standing.

And I'll quit.

I need to go before everything modify WITHOUT me.

On the other side of this room is a swinging lamp.

She comes and goes.

Alone.

The chair is empty

and a voice repeats

suspects

The light sometimes turns more and sometimes goes out altogether.

Lost Cord

I missed the FIG

I do not remember what he meant by that.

People laugh at my back. I'm afraid to approach.

Today I sit still.

Almost static.

Without a movement.

Is there something I can not.

I think I have more control of my movements ...

Someone wrote to me to not let go of the feelings that move with my personality,

This person read my book aloud to me to sleep.

Today no sense.

Today almost static.

Did I miss something in the middle of the road.

Today everything is very difficult. requires much effort.

Yes I think I lost something.

I need to go back to find.

Today everything I write is not what I write.

which seems to have lost the sense direction in seconds. maybe I should go back a few chapters and start over. a path where the beginnings begin. start now. this path where exchanges are extemporaneous.

If I knew how to draw, draw ...

Words fail me obedecem.não follow the order. do not obey the order I want.

Perhaps because today I do not know what that order.

I'll stop.

I do not move anymore.

Starting now.

has not stopped ...

my movements ...

I sabotage my body.

Attempt No. 2

Stop.

by 10.40 minutes.

Today is another day of many voices.

The voices moved and want to drown. drown without mercy.

Someone wanted me to get up. I did not get up. I refused.

The voices are still drowning.

Lack air

Here no one jokes. It's all very seriously. The voices take themselves too seriously.

Take things around you too seriously.

Lack lightness, lack sarcasm too. lack air.

Insist drown. Tale incessantly.

Someone wanted the pet cage moved. A zoo. Two brothers did not matter that the pet is movesses took to shoot her dead body decomposing. It's so beautiful decay. One thing that is apparently complete and that begins to blur. to deteriorate. The parts start to separate and the whole is the separation of these parts. The scent changes the environment. The worms have to eat and walk over this body is no longer a body. or still is. should be an interesting feel this to be nothing and yet be something. an amalgamation of things. Probably does not hurt because you get used to the feeling of something that you destroy, you have something that bites on one hand, pulls and swallows another. And what would be the impression of bone in all this? It is porous?

Someone says the doll.

Someone says the living doll.

But who says that the doll is not only an object in decay. Something being eaten by worms that are on your side, ensure that the vultures.

There was a cabaret and there was a girl in cabaret.

She had fun.

Kissing men and women.

It was systematic.

Everything always had an order. And she in cabaret.

Where the order was incomprehensible.

She counted. Sequences and had made the distance from his home to the cabaret. the result of the count should always be the same, otherwise she despaired. panicked, lost, did not move again, crashed. standing there crying.

The woman also followed an order of food. for each day of the week a color and type of format. Foods orange for example, should be on Mondays. greens on Tuesdays and so on. A specific order. a specific count.

One day this woman is going to propose a cabaret and striptease.

She had an order for each piece of clothing. Each connected to some piece of menswear that she sent home to every one man. always the same man. Nothing could get out of his ordination.

I do not remember well what happened after that. But remember she was found unconscious in a corner of cabaret, with multiple bruises throughout the body and clothes scattered around him.

I lost again ... Wire I told the girl by the cabaret?

(Gibberish)

Tale that I will not drown. Each number is a bit of oxygen that won ...

He looked at me.

Look to the sea ...

They said he came here and did not find me.

gone ...

But I was here.

Always have been.

From the very beginning.

Should I feel so alone?

Where have saved the pot with the voices?

...A honey pot is fine.

At the time he was deep in someone grabbed me by the hand.

The water became warm, slightly salty. I could breathe in it. This person put me on his lap under the water and gave me security.

Lull.

I no longer drowned.

It was as if my body was part of that water.

She knocked on my hair, water.

I think I did not have to count that time.

There was an old woman who had over 40 dogs. She was not married. It had been, but still porn ...

Children.

pass

orphans.

At some point I wanted to scream.

Explode like a crystal

be left without a party

only the crystalline powder.

And then came a couple who simply looked at me.

both so beautiful ...

They smiled

And I smiled too.

I think a tear trickled down.

He fell and was gone.

They took his image of the room with light. It is an opposite corner to another corner.

One girl said that everyone could be the same.

All are the same.

But I'm not so sure. Apparently my body is not his body.

... Or is it and I've lost the notion of beginning and end. Must be in the middle.

The middle of something they do not know.

Half a bite of something.

There was a girl who turned one of those horses with horns. one on the forehead.

She told the story of a gay brother and sister lesbian. The two ... ...

They took his image of the room with light.

It was beautiful.

He was there for some reason. And here I am.

There and here in French.

Moi. Je suis là, moi.

The suitcase No. 40 with Harps is uncomfortable. Not what it seems.

The Suitcase No. 40 today has many things inside, not what it seems.

I do not remember. opinion or ...

Today ideas are not complete.

come and go

quickly.

Before I was afraid of so many blank pages. Today I fear that they will eventually.

"What am I doing here?

I'm improvising. "

Can someone please tell me "to" story?

Where was I stopped?

Does sleep?

I smell food. Hunger perhaps?

Someone noticed me here. The noise of the rails ...

Sometimes for.

latch.

At some point I think I played a song.

I can not write with musical notes, but they would be here. could try to sing.

The boy is wearing a hat. Had passed once.

Once upon a time ...

that's not how you start a story?

start now ... I need to number the pages of the book upside down. The book upside down.

Someone wrote:

"I'm in love, but not for you ... just for a friend. "And at some point I woke up.

accurate count.

Numerei 13 pages. Sigo at 131.

I'm a bit lost. I think it is to contemplate.

The calm-eyed girl looked me in the eye for several minutes. I was calm.

One question.

Who will catch me when I fall?

"Drawing paper is scarce"

How was it even in English?

Reminded of a story.

There once was a girl he loved.

She was poisoned by biting an apple.

Some little people have placed in a crypt crystal so that when her lover found her, he kissed and awoke.

Since he never showed up, everyone was able to observe many details of the body beautiful girl being eaten by worms. Everybody all observed. observed the procedure of their devouring. observed the swallowing process, until there's nothing left of the beautiful young woman not to be a crypt crystal and mosses around it.

"Can anyone tell me what time is it?

I need to know that I am living at this hour "

Someone told me that we are in crescent moon and that's good.

Today I remembered so many stories ...

Once I met a lady in an empty street. She had many dogs that followed.

In your home each floor through which we passed, we found lots of them. There were stories that were low, low and height of them. Dogs.

On the top floor there she was. There was a door in half. Noise of rail tracks. Dogs. She and an empty word that appeared in the middle of the conversation ...

I'm afraid to stay here forever ...

I think it must be stopped again.

Whitening.

I think it got lost somewhere.

Stayed there.

At some point she wakes up and realizes his hands tied.

She sees her body wet and cold. Cold as the ice that had proved.

The mouth still dry.

People watch me curious. Am I doing something wrong?

Could be more common around here.

In a note someone wrote me:

"Did you really wake up with a kiss? And if you woke up in that world be? And what dreams you would tell? "

I have not received a letter from anyone. it's funny when no letter ... had become accustomed.

A Ticket says:

END

In a letter very seriously and red ...

A ticket replies:

No, not the end. End I who decides.

No, not the end. the end is me who decides.

no, not the end. the end is not yet. I'm just looking for something. I lost something there. not over yet. is not the end. not so. So, without end.

Wanted.

while I hope.

One day I saw two men, two gentlemen were also waiting. They were not looking for much, just waiting under a tree. A tree that once dried.

What was the very end?

No, I think not. They are still waiting.

I think someone woke me up.

Someone special came by. He looked at the environment and laughed.

He knows my stories.

A look complicit.

The lady of the big green eyes ... remember.

He helped me find something. Not that I lost, but another.

We laughed.

Am I awake?

Does sleep?

I remember when I was a little kid and run off, hit his head, breaking his nose.

scars ...

Things are all in space. He brought them here.

maybe some history. some narrative to clarify something.

scars of Flight and the Fall.

There's something between the cards and letters projected onto my body. Entered small barbs. wood. they are reluctant to leave, and I to take.

Does it hurt?

A couple who did not speak my language also rode the yellow security strip. If they felt safer in it too?

They seemed to understand me and bathed me in the rain. I was not alone. We ran and then they were gone, as if perhaps they were never state.

My hand should be in the wrong place ...

it is as if it were not mine.

As if I did not feel. and not feel it.

I try to move it, but it is increasingly difficult to get her out of place.

"The body-nothing-else my son, Nadan me ...

MUITOPOUCO one ... "

There once was a woman who loved much.

She loved her husband so that locking up a room for years.

I think at some point she forgot it there ...

or maybe just lost track of time.

Two girls stop ... keep my image ... read letters on the edge of the bed-bag.

If you want voyeurs ...

Someone leaves a message, someone else draws my picture dreaming ...

Could anyone tell me a story?

even when I sleep ...

I wanted to write about a ticket now.

about someone who made me smile and cry.

He stopped beside me and read my diary.

I think at some point I woke up.

I had a desire to start writing about someone who read. The one who knew who I was.

The body uncomfortable. Before I did not fit him. arms did not serve for arms and legs were no good for the legs. Flew over the surface of my skin. It was a long and arid. My skin dry.

I think at some point I missed the air and I wanted to stop there. at that point. that very moment.

A strong smell my nose shut. The heat came more and more. I felt the fire. how fire should be. not burned, simply lacked the air. So I ran. I tried to run away from the surface. Run ...

And then I heard a voice. I realized here.

I sought a voice somewhere. She was gone. I ran to the bars and stopped ...

Maybe I have seen the voice, but not sure of their format.

I came back.

The heat again. shortness of breath.

I think at some point I threw myself. I should play. fetch water, ice. The ice is not more. it melted. Headquarters ...

I think at some point I stopped.

Someone with blue eyes very blue gave me water.

I took a sip,

others threw ...

Arms, legs, neck, head, hair.

I drank that water and dove-eyed.

it in my body ...

excitation

calm.

calm calm.

gratitude.

Someone with blue eyes very blue, helped the girl, and drank water afterwards.

Agreed.

Now I can look at my reflection in the water. She's everywhere. I can navigate into the suitcase to harps. so maybe I can get ...

my reflection in the water.

Easy.

No thirst.

I simply and reflection.

Could get more of those blue eyes. but he is gone.

came, quenched my thirst and passed.

I lost my pencil and now back to this where the letters are largely absent.

I think at some point I was bitten ...

my eyes are heavy.

burn.

I miss the eyes.

everything else empty

The machine still running.

I drain.

water ...

wet hair ...

I see myself in the mirror of water.

Two pencil and nothing new to write.

It seems that time is running out.

Ninei ice ... he ran ... so small ...

I'm cold now, but this is good.

Apple ... moldy. Seems the mouth of an old open. is a gray mold. The perfume is still an apple. An apple is soft and wilted. her time runs out slowly, but still tough. as if there is a forest green and gray on its surface. I apple ...

I'm cold, but it's good.

Will remain blank pages.

I will not fill them.