„Ja ...“ Es gab eine erneute Stille und danach fragte Nínive, in einem dummen Ton: „Und wäre ich dann Königin?“

Maze

she would ignore she would sniff she would kill she would forget

Looking up there would only wreck
 your soft neck I like to bite into when we fuck.

In the reality of a room, in which the lover is sitting and staring at the object telephone, images and narrations formed by the forces of fiction interfere.

Atrophy of Fate

Like Cézanne’s Apple, I began to see Electronic Music differently when I realized all the possibilities that were in my reach.

Of the countless false certainties that roam the world, art does not subscribe any.

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