“You are not human. Who are you?”

Sopot, Poland, night 22/06/08

This baby is born. They put him in my arms, I hold him. I lay down on the floor, my huge belly and my huge me reclined like a huge Etruscan lady. I think “aye! carrying a baby in our own body can do that to its shape”. Although I’m quite surprised  for not having a single memory about my pregnancy. There are more people around in the room. I see Mozza and Otto. Then this baby starts crawling on all fours escaping from my arms and I realize how this is weird. We are in a terrace, and I’m telling Otto: “this house is quite ok, except for its lobby and hall. They must be repainted.” Then I realize that the hall is much bigger than I thought it was, but its walls are some how damage and black painted which it is not a good colour cause doesn’t allow us to see how beautiful and in good shape the house is. Then I see its enormous attic. I tell Otto: “This attic is so great; you could make a bar and a restaurant out of it. It has a splendid view all over the city”.
So, as this baby comes again to my arms I remember that the best way to keep him calm and quiet is to nurse him. He is a sucking child but I’m afraid I don’t have milk. Astonishingly I realize my teats are full of milk as this  voracious baby tries to suck holding my breast with his two little and energetic hands and opening his little mouth like a bird. This baby is very, very, strange to me. He has little teeth and his eyes are not  human child's eys. I change breast to help him to suck but he’s just not able to do that like babies do: he can just avidly swallow the milk drop by drop in a bird way or something like that. I’m quite astonished about the plentifulness of milk my breast is producing but I don’t know what else do with this baby. I think I have to ask Carlos C. what to do about this as I’m more and more aware how strange this seams. I say to this baby “you are not human. Who are you?” I am very angry. I’m not emotionally bounded with this baby nor is this baby emotionally attached to me. This baby’s eyes are cold. This baby only wants to be nourished but he doesn’t recall for love at all. I just want to get rid of him.

image credits: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Image:Theater_fat_woman_Louvre_BC968bis.jpg

This is a dream and I KNOW IT

Porto, 22nd to 23rd May 2008

I’m running, I don’t quite remember why. Some people are chasing me, but it’s more like a game, nothing really worthy to be frightened of. As I enter this house’s small garden I see staircase down the hill, steep stairs stone made. Running down I feel the soil trough my shoe’s rubber sole. I’m wearing my Melissa shoes wedge heel. Somehow it’s almost flying down more than running and I’m amazed I don’t fail the steps. I see garbage boxes aligned regularly in certain points of the staircase, they’re all closed, all alike, but near one of them there’s some boiled rice in the floor. Someone was a little careless with garbage stuff I think as I keep on running down.
Being very conscious of the physical issues – the soil trough my shoes, the roughness of the stair stone, the way I’m going down – I realize I'm dreaming, and that’s so exhilarating that I must control my joy to avoid waking up. “It’s a dream, and I’m waked up. Uhauu!!”

So I decide that I’ve had enough of staircases and garbage boxes and running away: “If this is all but a dream I want to change places. I want to go to a beautiful enchanted palace”.

And as I say so I realize I’m flying up and up, in a middle of darkness. That’s nothing to do with dark places or terrifiynng stuff, it’s only an absence of images at all, as I denied the landscape I was plunged in. It’s nothing scary or whatsoever. It’s cosy, and I feel good as I’m claiming up and up. Awaked. Full of joy. I don’t reach the palace,but I don’t’ remember where I got up into. It was a change all right, but then I loose the awakened control.

imagem: http://www.oficinadeestilo.com.br/blog/wp-content/melissas-e-marc-jacobs.jpg

Gosh, I must be so strong all the time

Night 3rd to 4th March 2008
They are chasing after me. I see one of them. It's a policeman. He has some papers in his left hand. He's in front of me and calls my name. I assume I am who I am right away. I did nothing wrong or whatsoever. So he puts those papers in my hand and I cannot avoid trembling a little. Anyway, I face him showing no fear. The place is a little crowded but nobody seams to pay attention to us. Then I have to climb on a kind of a ladder and as I need both hands to do that I have to put those papers in my mouth. Now I think those papers are kind of a passport.
Then I'm flying away in a small helicopter. My legs are hanging outside and my arms and hands strongly crapped to the floor. We are crossing the seaside. I know there is no door because we have to jump right away when it stops. But it's quite scarring flying that way feeling the wind and the all the movements. I fear to loose my strength and being thrown over board. "Gosh, I must be so strong all the time", I think.