A very hot Afternoon

Posted May 7, 2006
Last Updated Jun 21, 2012
Videos Alpha - Omega A tragic video about modern history ___________________ Flash Back An Urban Dream __________________ Lives, even this one, are a neighborhood. For all the neighbors, my neighbors, for me. None of them…..of us….lives truly as he dreams to live, since a dream is….just…a single moment and all the other moments are despair. Upon this street we are born… we live… we die, and together with us our dreams die…. together with our children. That is why a feast into this street is something sadder than death itself. The C.D. player playing sounds on “repeat” nobody can really follow the rhythm anymore Two sweat-stained hands on the white tight pair of trousers of a girl... The bewildered eyes of an innocent dog…. an empty glass… a white line of powder on a piece of mirror a red ribbon…a secret sigh... a savage glance of an unspoken desire… movements into the silence of this cage... a feast onto our street of dreams is a moment of sadness… as sad as the moment of a dream a fragment of life made of paper captivated in the hand of an angel…. A plain is our life, much bigger than my hart but it has not any room for my desires. Like birds my desires….my dreams ……died into this plain. I must confess a secret to the wind… a message to the sky I am on my open wings to tell the cloud: The bird cannot be caught. The child will never be lost there above the sky. A chrysanthemum bloomed. Died in between the pleats of the wind. Petals are falling onto the dewy asphalt. Wander inside the lips of an early wind searching for the bird. The bird is dead. The little bird lays murdered into this cage singing the lyrics of this dawn. Some people on bicycles enter into the street. The bicycles are broken. Those who ride broken bicycles are angels from the sky trying - without any result - to come between us to bring us messages of friends…of enemies…. who have been forgotten somewhere in between the galaxies. But broken bicycles are useless into our perception… messages change to silence…. images of moments travel in between the stars… ridding on starlight…. ..lost ….for us …into Time….. The images of our moments will be lost into Time ………..like tears in a silent morning rain……


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