DIARY

LADIES WELCOME

The little girl is five years old. Kindergarten, at most, I suppose. She’s wearing a blue dress with red motifs, if I remember correctly. “Why are you wearing a dress?…

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THE DESTRUCTIVE POWER OF BOREDOM

You’ve seen it before. It made your mother cover all the walls of your working-class family apartment with her framed cross-stitched embroidery copied from the Burda magazine. It makes your…

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YOU, GENDER FUCKER

Driving around Monterrey, Mexico. the taxi driver glances at me through the mirror. although I stare back at him he doesn’t stop. he repeats it a couple of more times,…

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WOR(L)DLESS

Night clubs are fascinatingly wordless. Like a birth, Frightfully non-verbal. The pre-linguistic music, the mute people Trying to conceale their smells, scars, souls, Trying to pretend they have smells, scars,…

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