radiazioni isotrope mi circondano.
lo spettro termico di Planck mi rincorre.
mi aggrappo ad un fotone per ammirare le bollenti curve dell’universo fra i quadratini.
“I transformed myself in the zero of form and emerged from nothing to creation, that is, to Suprematism, to the new realism in painting – to non-objective creation.”
Kazimir Malevich
Chocolate and Dostoevsky, for my dinner, Sachertorte for Fyodor, poor folk, poor idiot.
I’m a total idiot, I’m eating the essayst, I’m writing the cake, I’m your crime, I’m your jam, I’m your dandy.
I have Nastenka in my blood, I’m the solid section, you are the dreamer, Fyodor is the land of loneliness, the cream of the human kind, the biologic hammer of love of vermins of seeds of Plato’s Cave armpit .
“Oh gore of the bloody white night, transmigrate me in the jam tower of the Demons
Take me to the Irrational Man and kill the gothic fiction of the apricoat dandy”