There Is No Art Form That Has

Perhaps We Are The Same Person. Perhaps We Have No Limits; Perhaps We Flow Into Each Other, Stream Through Each Other, Boundlessly And Magnificently. You Bear Terrible Thoughts; It Is Almost Painful To Be Near You. At The Same Time It Is Enticing. Do You Know Why?

Fellini, Kurosawa, And Bunuel Move In The Same Field As Tarkovsky. Antonioni Was On His Way, But Expired, Suffocated By His Own Tediousness.

I Hope I Never Get So Old I Get Religious.

Then I Felt That Every Inflection Of My Voice, Every Word In My Mouth, Was A Lie, A Play Whose Sole Purpose Was To Cover Emptiness And Boredom. There Was Only One Way I Could Avoid A State Of Despair And A Breakdown. To Be Silent. And To Reach Behind The Silence For Clarity Or At Least Try To Collect The Resources That Might Still Be Available To Me.

I Have A Lot Of Tics And Phobias. I Hate To Travel. I Hate To Go To Festivals. I Hate It When Somebody Gets Close Behind Me. I'm Scared Of The Darkness. I Hate Open Doors.