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FUSIONED - DIRECTED - WRITTEN AND CORRESPONDED BY: MENASSA 2001
DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPEAK BUT WE DO IT IN SEVERAL LANGUAGES
GRIS, IS A PRODUCT
INDIO GRIS Nº 77
was a marvellous and strong century, the twentieth century.
days when I can't go on any longer
life is deformed in each step
have hopes again every morning,
is an old wound that heals when I stop naming you, my beloved.
of my will was to stay fixed to your entrails. And your entrails loved
saved me partially, I must admit, having fulfilled your vanity with my
power. But it was all fictitious, a hundred women held my penis erect for
your gaze not to get lost. Afterwards some of the girls, bored of being
only the support of your infantile evocations, wanted they too, to suck a
little, and you raised the roof and from that moment on you denied me
will see us together again and then I'll demonstrate the opposite to you.
I'll start by kissing your lips so that disgust may enclose our drama,
afterwards I'll take the lid of the oblivion pot off and mysterious and
green toads, lovers of your whims, will come out, little Columbine of a
beloved, let me fly, let me be free.
Tarzan came to my consulting room, and dropped himself on the couch, having
previously shown me his abilities to imitate all kinds of animals and persons
and told me:
I, clear, Tarzan tied to an endless chains of monkeys and women. The only
thing she has are needs of having something. Little by little, Tarzan loses
desire to be with woman. Everything with her heavy and painful, full of claims
and with little pleasure.
so as to intervene, to have participation in the page, asked him:
In the jungle, did you enjoy more with Chita?
if what I had said were some sort of foolishness, he continued talking in the
She resembles death, my dear doctor, to a dead female monkey, to
nothingness. It isn't that she has no brain, she doesn't
have a body.
asked me for a second session and here we are again talking.
in arriving, cackled like a hen after laying an egg and dropped on the couch.
Me, be tied by chains of extortion and monkeys. She kills herself, she
suffers herself, she makes faces, me, have my balls swelled by so much carnival.
is envious and mean, she takes advantage of my animal naiveté to ask me what no
one could give her nor will be able to give her and, on top of this afterwards
she wants me to go to work and later she even wants me to love her. She's crazy
as a crazy monkey, doctor, it is evident.
this time, trying not to contradict him, shouted, howled as if my mother would
have died in my arms.
remained astonished for some seconds, afterwards, with fallen arms hanging from
the sides of his body and doing with his eyes as monkeys do, he told me:
I have understood everything, doctor, she, I and the monkeys, we are an
impossible triangle. I'll leave the jungle tomorrow.
I, making a movement like throwing my dead mother to his feet, said to
We'll continue the next
the beginning, as we were very young (and a little foreigners), we
couldn't get a job.
afternoon while we were making love I asked her if she was hungry and she
didn't reply. She
took my dick out of her pussy, I cleaned my dick with an end of the sheet,
I covered her with some shame and went quickly to look for a knife to the
looked eagerly till I found the big silver knife, a gift from my father.
in the room again and with my father's silver knife I opened her chest in
two and holding her small heart between my hands, I told her that I loved
want to feel well with what I'm doing, because what I'm doing is what I
can do and what I can do is what I should do. Those are the secrets.
have to go on thinking of reality although life may only last a hundred
accept calmly things as they are. Also when things favour you.
don't want to rejuvenate, I want to live a thousand years, though I might
be middle-aged or old.
to do something different everyday, is very youthful, not practical and it
doesn't allow one to fall in love with anything. A style, I mean, also
needs something to repeat itself.
no one thinks of anyone, in that moment, I prefer to give up thinking of
is an illness and you can't nor shouldn't go around with injuries exposed
to the air.
a consequence, jealousy must be psychoanalysed, never to be shown in
jealous person ends up inspiring piety and it is clear that a
psychoanalyst who inspires piety, won't have much clientele.
would be eliminated with the elimination of procreation. Between immortals
jealousy doesn't exist.
are all clients, all.
only thing I can and must expect from them is the payment of the
FROM THE EDITOR
I stop thinking is when I write best; thoughts, in most cases, are
disturbing consciences of the true unconscious thought.
if you can't write a great poem, copy a great poem from a great poet and
as cheaply as that, you'll be able to feel something great in your life.
my own emblems remain broken in my writing, no one will anymore be able to
say that I didn't do things entirely well.
engrave all my loves in golden and steel letters, so that other men like
us, in the future, know of what we were able to do to recuperate a lost
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