Status Updates From Água Viva

“No haber nacido animal es mi secreta nostalgia.”

Fantastic: the world for an instant is exactly what my heart asks.

The eroticism that belongs to whatever is living is scattered in the air, in the sea, in the plants, in us, scattered in the vehemence of my voice, I write you with my voice. And there is a vigor of the robust trunk, of roots buried in the living earth that reacts giving great sustenance. I breathe the energy by night.

About me in the world I want to tell you about the strength that guides me and brings me the world itself, about the vital sensuality of clear structures, and about the curves that are organically connected to other curved shapes. My handwriting and my circumvolutions are potent and the freedom that blows in summer has fatality in itself.

If I don't enter the game that unfolds in life I shall lose my own life in a suicide of my species. I protect with fire the game of my life. When the existence of me and of the world can no longer be borne by reason — then I loose myself and follow a latent truth. Would I recognise the truth if it were proven?

What is called a beautiful landscape causes me nothing but fatigue. What I like are landscapes of dry and baked earth, with contorted trees and mountains made of rock and with a whitish and suspended light. There, yes, a hidden beauty lies.

In my deep night a mad wind blows that brings me scraps of screams.
I am feeling the martyrdom of an untimely sensuality. In the early hours I awake full of fruit. Who will come to gather the fruit of my life?

My vast night goes by in the primary of latency. The hand touches the earth and listens hotly to a heart pulsing. I burn in an inquisitorial bonfire. I have the mysticism of the darkness of a remote past. And I emerge from these victims' tortures with the indescribable mark that symbolizes life.
In my night I idolise the secret meaning of the world. Mouth and tongue. And a horse free with loosened strength.