RSS Facebook Twitter
FROM ATHENS, GREECE / Feb. 22, 2013 / by / 0 Comments

Unconscious Conversations (Day 17)

February 20, Jennifer, Editing Principle: writing bank manifestos with their bodies


dreams look like video games:
we have to conquer a ship, to enter the captain’s cabin,
I have some strange creature in my hand as tall as a two-story building.

the safety of the building?
the columns that are supporting another house?
the safety requirements of the elevator during its construction
for the people constructing it?

but I wonder, in front of the smell of the door,
what else could be done with the money?

In public markets, in garage sales, on the streets, blended in with all the other displays of consumption, production, and its detritus. THE SCAR ON MY HEAD IS CHOPPED OFF. I START TO BLEED BUT I HAVE NO PAIN. THE WOUND IS CLEANSED AND DESPITE MY FEAR I FEEL RELIEF

This is not what the collector told us to do…

Me, Xenofon, Eddie and Dimitra are at a protest in downtown athens. Everything is fine and at some point all hell breaks loose. We run to take cover but we feel surrounded. Tear gas is making it impossible for us to breathe properly. We are cornered by the police forces along with 10-15 other people, someone breaks some marble and starts throwing them at the police, soon we all follow.
At that point my dream stops.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *