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Radioactive epidemics

Modifié le : 2019/07/30

If a few atoms can destroy an entire city, imag­ine the pow­er of the drugs that flow through our veins. I am eas­i­ly sur­prised, my think­ing is radioac­tive and unsta­ble. The perime­ter of a lamp reminds me of the bit­ter lips of a vol­cano, the con­tact of a body announces an epi­dem­ic of sensations.

Let us look around us. Qui­et objects are bombs that do not delay any­thing. Let us observe the peo­ple who pass by, the ges­tures that are cre­at­ed, the wounds, the loves, the hopes that fes­ter for pas­sions. Let us look at the moon, the stars, the mon­strous galax­ies four bil­lion light-years wide. Yes, four bil­lion light-years to cross them, one after the other.

Four times bil­lions of times tril­lions of times tril­lions of times a thou­sand quadrillion of ver­tig­i­nous explo­sions. We are infi­nite­ly small, yes, but each of our cells is a car­ri­er, pow­er­ful, capa­ble. It is a great thrill to know it, a strange sad­ness to do noth­ing of it, a trag­ic para­dox to be able to kill as much as to procreate.

From that no won­der we become trou­ba­dours and crazy for the mere hours we are given.

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