do you like answers?

a few years ago a french boyfriend left me because ‘tu poses trop de questions’. what he didn’t say was that he had been seeing another woman. i met this woman at his birthday party months later. at midnight the lights went out, came back on again, a woman holding a cake with 30 candles walked toward him and he blew out the candles. i knew right then that those two were made for each other. he had introduced her earlier, as a colleague from work, our conversation had been coma-inducing, and I would have never imagined this woman to be of any interest to him. just like Woody Allen in ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ failed to recognize that his love interest Mia Farrow would chose Allen Alda over him. i’m interested in consciousness. becoming conscious. that’s everything.

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                      the boy who couldn't love the girl,

                               I’m sending works out hoping the viewer will feel less alone and very alone (both). I’ve noticed that most people can’t deal with abundance.

                             My works demand attention. I hope they offend through reckless devotion.

How 

did 

you

 kidnap 

your own heart? 

What happened, the kidnapping, 

I don’t cook, 

I was going to say ‘someone’ 

cooked my heart, this someone 

didn’t boil it, he 

cooked it in simmering range, 

had he boiled my heart, I would have noticed the 

kidnapping much earlier... I kidnapped my heart 

by resenting my own questions. I kidnapped my heart 

by resenting my mind.