We have surrendered our rage
We have lost the possibility to fury
for a sofa
for a hot dinner
for a few minutes of company
We have given in to the giant of unsustainable mobility,
of precarious work,
of instant relationships.
We have asked for forgiveness without deserving it,
without an ounce of pride.
We have fallen into nostalgia for ourselves.
We have let (our) head fall into the ravine as if it were rubbish. (bowed our heads, looked the other way, nodded, acquiesced).
We have allowed the crying,
the anguish,
the disquiet of the most vulnerable…
And yet we believe ourselves to be in possession of the absolute and triumphant truth,
a truth without an opponent,
unidirectional,
anodyne,
aseptic,
conditional.
And me, to differentiate myself from “that” us,
I could do with a break,
before I die,
to die in myself,
to die, to die, to die…
I’d give so much for a little love and a little flesh!!!!!
That any silence seems to me to be paradise.
Jorge Albuerne, “…the folds of solitude”.
Jorge Albuerne
Born in Oviedo (Asturias) a year before the death of the dictator.
He graduated in Fine Arts from the University of the Basque Country/Euskal Herriko Unibertsitatea (UPV/EHU) specialising in Sculpture and Ceramics and has spent the last twenty years training, creating and accompanying/directing projects in the field of the performing arts, using resources from dance, the circus, the plastic arts and writing. He currently lives in Barcelona from where he divides his time between Mexico and Argentina as a creator and performer.
