Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Death

If there is one recurrent element in my life that I remember since I was a child then it is rain.

Whenever I left a place that mattered in some way for me it started raining.

I ´ve been trying to interpret the rain for a long time.

When I left Salvador after three month of sunshine my cousin told me it was the city crying for me.

I know now that the rain comes as a cleaner, just as purifying as my daily puking that cleans my interior, washing away every trace that I left in each city killing the memory of each person whose life I stepped in, marking that space as the dead universe of my past.

Of course everyone knowing me would say now that I do have friends and people love me but the truth is that I chose loneliness a long time ago as the only state in which I can be who I am.

And its not only my traits of character, it is the whole me-package ,the allergies the rhythm Iam sleeping, the language I am thinking. Its too exhausting too explain what I can eat and what not I rather take my meals by myself instead of being social and have dinner with friends, but waking up with a swollen neck because somebody forgot to mention the food contains “mononatriumglutamin”you may ask yourself what is that and I am too tired to explain.

The whole thing of being tired might appear weird to you, how can you be tired when you sleep ten hours every day ever work and actually do nothing at all? “And why do your eyes always have these big black circles? And why are you always so white? Jesus I know you hate the sun, but maybe that `s just the key, I read about it, lack of light causes depression….”

I would really love to work like this, like everybody else, getting a tan, looking healthy and happy and at the end of the day as soon as I lie down in my bed my eyes fall down like a doll and I wake up and its another day another chance to make it better than the day before…

Once when I went to art school I designed a new subculture the “latbinos”, to explain (or should I say defend ? ) my look. I told them my father is a very blond north-german and almost looked like an albino and my mum is a brasilan-portuguese mix, a Latina and that all of her family had these big shades under their eyes only you can not see them as they are all of a darker color. Lucky as I am I of course inherited the bad shit, the pale skin the big shades, the dark hair, just the whole range of shit. I designed latbino- Barbies and I remodelled the healthy looking children like the guy on the Kinder- chocolate or the blond kid on the Brandt- Zwieback into my brothers with big shades. I wanted to point out that there are more subtle mixes than only half blacks. A latbino could also be a person who has a hairy southern dad but inherits a pale skin so bang! u can see all the hair and bang! welcome to the latbino- club! I think u get the gist, but anyway in the end I was told my art is just a diary for myself inaccessible for others that there is nothing I can give to others, which exact sentence was also written on my certificate at the end of the year, once again confirming my extraterrestrial being.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

FASHION
THINKING ABOUT T-SHIRTS
IN:
Show some Emotions:
Let me introduce...your new choice when it comes to picking clothes for la corse...
So...You`re happy.Think smiling chocolate cakes, kissing heats cheerful kind of happy.
Think Village people YMCA...
Raise your arms for the Y-SHIRT!!!!!
So....You`re unhappy...IT`s raining you`re ugly, you`re lonely, you`re broke,you are retarded.You are god`s most miserable creature.We all know it...the D-word, Nick Drake wrote 1000 of touching songs in that state, Sylvia Plath likewise the most beautiful painful poetry...blablabla...To get itno the real depressed mood just bend your back in a Quasimodo-kind-of-style, let your arms hang like a Orang-Utan to wallow completely in your misery and slip into your newbest friend...THE A-SHIRT!!!

OUT: What does a t-shirt say? Why is it called a t-shirt at all?
Ok..got it...the T-form...
but hey...do u want to measure the distance between two objects?
Stretching your body like Jane Fonda during her best bulimic times?
Anyway..the T says nothing.
CALL IT A YESTERDAY!!