terça-feira, 11 de junho de 2013

A CEBOLA - MARINA ABRAMOVIC








I’m tired from changing planes so often.

Waiting in the waiting rooms, bus stations, train stations airports.

I’m tired of waiting for endless passport controls, fast shopping in the shopping malls.

I’m tired of more and more career decisions, museum and gallery openings, endless receptions, standing around with a glass of plain water pretending that I’m interested in conversations.

I’m so tired of my migraine attacks, lonely hotel rooms, dirty bed sheets, room services, long distance telephone calls, bad T.V. movies.

I’m tired of always falling in love with the wrong man, tired of being ashamed of my nose being too big, of my ass being too large, ashamed about the war in Yugoslavia.

I want to go away somewhere, so far that I’m unreachable by telephone or fax.

I want to get old, really old, so that nothing matters anymore.

I want to understand and see clearly what is behind all of this.

I want not to want anymore.



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