INTERVIEWER: You say today is a day like any other in the paradise of steel and concrete; that people dressed in routines search a dream that never arrives; that the sun always rises in the east, though nobody cares in the city that never sleeps.

You tell me that the circular race around utopia failed years ago; that the friction between bodies in movement produced the melody that left everything in silence. You say that nobody listens to the essential whisper of the bushes anymore, or of the water or the fire and that everybody is on the lookout for the reflection they get when they look themselves on the walls that will never be climbed. 

But...start from the top, please.

INTERVIEWEE: I was the breathing inside a rubber balloon, the orange light over any other corner; the mist on a window, mute witness of a conversation... The blue of the shy dawn, the wind that dries the just hanged-up clothes. I was the electricity on the skin when listening to the favourite song. I was the lump that gets in the throat before crying... But I left because this immense place became too small for me.

INTERVIEWER: And... Where will you go?

INTERVIEWEE: A day like any other, you do not find the way back home. Lights twinkle and you find out that you do not belong anywhere. You can’t recognize yourself. You repeat your name out loud and just hear a string of sounds devoid of content... And you keep walking.... looking for the way back... nd you discover you do not have a home and that you do not want to come back either. Many people get lost in the night. Onone hand, they hold a gift they hadn’t expected: a new direction; on the other, everything they believe they depend on.

The fear of losing what we do not own can paralyze you. And I followed a somber path. I lost myself so much that I found myself. 

INTERVIEWER: Have you considered going back to the city?

INTERVIEWEE: I will go on a visit, I will try to go unnoticed and I will remain invisible to them.

INTERVIEWER: What will you do when you come back?

INTERVIEWEE: I dreamt that the buildings were collapsing because there was nothing there to brace them. A cloud of dust flooding the streets and burying the silence that covers the truth; a dry breath that terminates with anything new to make way for what’s coming. I saw an animal having some rest on the pillars of the future. Happy in its carefree expression, while the sun lighted up the ruins of everything that was a trap.

INTERVIEWER: But...

INTERVIEWEE: The resigned listen to a mantra that reads: “Happiness is loving what one has to do. Find the happiness in what kills you.” I was not inoculated with the vaccine against lead, nickel, or asbestos. I am still allergic to bullets, greed and tedium. Games are now too tricky and need devices to work. We have become sophisticated, but very simple. We have changed what’s authentic for its representation. Others think forus and we do not have a second to sit and think... We should remember that we carry inside a spark that is waiting for a chance to get out.