Worlds

When I was little I was thinking that this world might be a world in another bigger one and the bigger one in another and so on. Then I’ve read a story (inspired from the myth of Iona) which ruined my dreams of innovation.

Now I’m thinking that this world might be part of many other worlds, bigger and more complex, created by us.

Some are ugly, some are sweet, some are shallow, some are erotic, some are contemplative. And maybe Iona, is looking and laughing, knowing that he seen them all. Inside a fish.

My world is just confuse. Incoherent, full of contractions, sometimes illogical, sometimes too logical, sometimes screaming, sometimes quiet. Maybe that’s why I still like the sea, somehow it resembles my general mood.

Overall, I’m just waiting.

Hot

It's so strange this country. Hot, I think I'm starting to understand Meursault in a way. Somehow, I always understood him and in the same time I felt so far from him. This stupid MPD sometimes gets me.

Sometimes I stare in dark places and imagine strange worlds in which abnormal things happen, without feeling my gaze.

It's so hot... at least the sea is here. I wonder how would Lynch see the world in this heat. Probably he would picture some strange red corner where deep and ancestral unconscious phobias and desires flow. Or he would throw Lacan's mirror and a million people would become aware of their childhood rupture.

I wonder, is anyone staring at us ?

From the "an awkward world" project