fake.
“If you can write down your passport number without having to look at your passport,” the border police said smugly, “your passport is definitely fake.” What a training, I thought. Quietly, I felt sorry for him. The three other police…
PKMzeta.
Our bodies are merely vehicles of the perpetuation of memories. Proteins cease with deaths and are reborn with birth. Eternal memories are then transferred to new neurons, forming new networks of old meanings, perpetuating ancient behaviours.
writing.
He once told me that he felt I was writing especially for him. But one day he stopped reading and my writing continues. Still, It didn’t matter, because my writing is not a writing when he’s not there to read…
an artist.
AN ARTIST WHO CANNOT TRAVEL IS NO ARTIST http://tinyurl.com/4xnrobz
home.
Home is where I can download my emails to my laptop.
magic.
There is a land where technology exists without electricity. This land is called magic. In magic, the willing audience are prepared to be awed by honest lies. They want to believe the fraud, as long as it’s entertaining. In magic…
bluish.
Installation view of the Great Wallpaper series. Photo courtesy of Cemeti Art House/Sari Handayani. When I returned, she was still drawing. On the wall. Why, I asked her. Because it is a wall, she said. But why, I asked…
assure.
What is it that you want me to promise you my dear: that I will never suddenly die? I can promise you the whole earth in my hand my love, but that would be simply a lie. “Faith is the…
home.
In your absence, scents seem to linger, even when they’re perhaps not part of reality. It is my truth, the only one I know, the only truth I can understand, and the one I’m sharing with you. Surrendering to flashes…
determinism.
When you believe in free will, doesn’t all death become suicide?