Drawers of time and acid
EN/ES
Text by Rina Slora
First published in No Mires al Sol, NOPLATA, Burgos, Spain, 2018
It totally blinded me. It blinded me so much that I started seeing things that I couldn’t even imagine before. He discovered me loves and quarrels, as many as there are petals on a dolphin. I was blinded by the old photographs, full of sea and family. I was blinded by storm colors and false memories that are nothing more than forms on a paper covered in acid. I worked myself out so many times, I knew it was me. Give me only two minutes of the world, and I will burn melancholic universes that to me feel alien; that I feel distant as honey boats in an album hidden under sheets and porn magazines. I feel blind for wanting to have more life than that which I have inherited from my own use of time. I was totally blinded by the love for the dead. I feel the distance in each image, and the cry of my own daughter, who is not my daughter but myself, and I'm not the one who feels the crying, but in fact my mother, holding me next to a balcony. I was blinded by the yellow demon, with its lemon-colored eyes and long horns of saturated crest. I was blinded by wanting to remember everything I've lived, and wanting to live beyond my reality, forming my own seas of salt and tips with a taste of heaven. I was blinded by taking stabs in the dark with cheap incomprehensive people, and not listening to the advice of my dying grandmother; advice to hate men and women equally. I blinded myself, for believing that the family is made of concrete and bone. I blinded myself, by falling in love with my past and believing that the present is choked breakfasts and bare kisses. I blinded myself, looking at the sun, and seeing nothing but memories.
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First published in No Mires al Sol, NOPLATA, Burgos, Spain, 2018
It totally blinded me. It blinded me so much that I started seeing things that I couldn’t even imagine before. He discovered me loves and quarrels, as many as there are petals on a dolphin. I was blinded by the old photographs, full of sea and family. I was blinded by storm colors and false memories that are nothing more than forms on a paper covered in acid. I worked myself out so many times, I knew it was me. Give me only two minutes of the world, and I will burn melancholic universes that to me feel alien; that I feel distant as honey boats in an album hidden under sheets and porn magazines. I feel blind for wanting to have more life than that which I have inherited from my own use of time. I was totally blinded by the love for the dead. I feel the distance in each image, and the cry of my own daughter, who is not my daughter but myself, and I'm not the one who feels the crying, but in fact my mother, holding me next to a balcony. I was blinded by the yellow demon, with its lemon-colored eyes and long horns of saturated crest. I was blinded by wanting to remember everything I've lived, and wanting to live beyond my reality, forming my own seas of salt and tips with a taste of heaven. I was blinded by taking stabs in the dark with cheap incomprehensive people, and not listening to the advice of my dying grandmother; advice to hate men and women equally. I blinded myself, for believing that the family is made of concrete and bone. I blinded myself, by falling in love with my past and believing that the present is choked breakfasts and bare kisses. I blinded myself, looking at the sun, and seeing nothing but memories.
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