No, I don’t. I do not.


There’s night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there’s likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die ? – George Borrow

I thought my ideas were so clear.

I wanted to make an honest film.
No lies whatsoever.

I thought I had something so simple to say.
Something useful to everybody.
A film that could help to bury forever
all those dead things we carry within ourselves.

Instead, I’m the one without the courage to bury anything at all.

And now I’m utterly confused.

I wonder why things turned out this way.

When did I go wrong?

I really have nothing to say…
but I want to say it all the same.

And your spirits,
why don’t they come to my rescue?

You always said they had
plenty of messages for me.

Let them get to work!

I’ve already told you, your attitude is wrong,
Your curiosity toward them is childish.
You want too many guarantees.

– Fine, but what do they say?
– Always the same thing. Even now.

They’re very reasonable spirits.
They know you very well.


They say you’re free,
but you must learn to choose.

You don’t have much time.

(From Eight and a half)

In my head, some memories flash.
Some dances appear.
Syndromes and a century’s.
Lola’s. How sweet,
how significant.
So much life there.
So many lies here.
Let alone mediocrities.
Too little.
Too much.

Stories in my palm, brother, all sad things; beautiful, true, yet insignificant, brother, do you know ? So much like a teary rain on a forgotten island. Life is getting cruel, brother; hear me, speak to me.


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