Status Updates From O Vampiro Passivo

We must give our wandering gaze something of the impenetrable obscurity of the retina so that the eye no longer resembles a useless canker under the brow. Let's go hunting with a jet-black eye in the middle of our brow, and let it be seduced by images as if by snakes.

In the darkest corner of my room, beneath the unlit oven and a wild root, the lyric-magician looks at a wax figure through dark-ringed eyes. All the cold poisons he can sense within himself, like a shirt of ether, all the frozen fires that set his breath alight, snorting lacerating shards of ash from his nostrils, has made him resemble the infernal object he has in front of him, like two bite marks, like two shadows.

The world I move in during the day does not contradict the one that exists at night. This is why I cannot claim to be troubled by the fact that humanity only lives half of the time. I no longer say that I dream, because the quantitative difference between the two phenomena of day and night also implies a qualitative one.