All about: Jack

March 1. Buenos Aires.
There are so many things that don't interest me not a tiny bit. It's not interesting to talk about them, so I leave that be. The first day of March passed by quietly and without any special effects. I hung out in an apartment in Buenos Aires and had a good time. There is not ...
February 28.
Other people age with the same pace as we do ourselves. If we lost some years or feel like we did so, if we feel we are getting too old, and everything has already been said, and all attempts in life reduce to a vain spasm to postpone emptiness, if we feel all that we ...
February 27.
Today, Jack is asked deep questions. Why do people come to Jack with their questions? He doesn't know. He has an air of wisdom twinkling in his eyes, but in reality he cannot answer your questions. He will not and after a little while agree with you because that makes him feel good. Jack is ...
Febrauary 25. São Paolo.
The sheer size of this city. I arrived dreaming weird dreams on the heavily airconditioned coach I took. All kinds of people live in those dreams, they assume each other's roles and exchange them like I don't know what. They say sentences laden with meaning, sentences leave their mouths and fizzle out against my eardrums. ...
February 24. Sunrise ,Sunset.
And it's all so simple: just meet that person who has the same difference. O, stop it. Stop the abstractions and start something creamy, thick, moldy, liquid, crooked, crumbled, something smelling of steaming fresh asphalt, like pulpy orange juice, like boiling fat, something cobalt blue covered in colophony and eucalyptus honey, something Schostakovitschly brasslike, bulky, ...
February 21.
See the blind man / shooting at the world. Jack stands up and makes his move. He's a tactical guy. Start talking with the older one, the uglier one, the least attractive woman. Following the harsh merciless laws of nature. That way he transforms himself from a danger coming from outside the group into a ...
February 19. Jazz
A life for the art is a life apart. A life à part, a sacrifice of solitude. You have to keep moving on, or you will become mediocre, a painful aesthetic entrepreneur smiling unctuously to his customers. But how do you live art? Hear that question? It is no good thinking about that at all. ...
February 18. Jack’s first adventure.
Today Jack got out early, while I was still dreaming of rosabuds and guirlandes on the wall of a monch's refectory, of tulips and waterpipes, of drowsy days spent under semispherical
pink umbrellas, of the Lisbon elevator that takes you up to the sky for only 2€ and the tram that takes you down for ...
February 16. Jack enters.
I decided to split up. One part of me is sitting in the sun being wonderfully happy, living up to his dreams to his heart's content, he produces reflections like sunrays on the surface of a still mountain like, and he produces the illusion that those reflections will last at least a few centuries. The ...