Don't tell your public lover.

'I want to feel what it's like... to touch you where life begins'

Hurt you a little.

'I want you, so badly. Let me guide you, I deeply need your essence, let me teach you how to be alone, let me teach you how to have dark secrets and not feel guilty at all. I want your art, your spirit to be mine. I want to be your lover and mark each other's bodies. Make me bleed, please yourself, I'm all yours, I'm your escape. When lust feels like this it becomes addictive. I want you, truly, but I want to share a secret with you more. Let's be bad together, pleasure awaits. I don't want to kiss you, I want to bite you, let's share this secret, join me, look for me.'

Riesgo.

Me perdí en mi pasión, me olvidé del planeta y de los seres que subsistían. Me olvidé del deseo, no atendí tus lujurias. Me inspiraba y me encerraba, verme en esa situación te hiptonizaba. Dónde está el escritor? El tiempo se desvanece, la realidad es mítica. Vivo en un eterno paraíso, lo sueño, lo fantaseo. Estás ahí? Tus ojos no me hablan, están infectados de dolor y de abandono. Escapemos, mantengamos el secreto. Marcas y cicatrices, preparemonos para eso, animate a lo prohibido, te prometo la gloria y el poder, la droga más tramposa que el ser humano haya concebido. Seguime.

Congratulations, beautiful.

I'm scared and excited at the same time, this is so wrong... I'm confused, do I love you or the idea of you? Your passion inspires me, it makes me jealous and happy at the same time. I want to keep this secret forever, but still have a mark in my flesh, a scar to remind me that this was real. Is it too much to ask? Forbidden is what lovers like us are.

Confianza distorsionada.

Era una niña, pero aún así era consciente, mucho más de lo que esperaba ser de adulta. Era inocente, pero sabía, presentía que jamás encajaría. Sabía que por más correcta que intentara ser en esa etapa, en algún momento de su vida, algún tiempo algo lejano, cometería un error irreparable, arriesgaría todo lo que alguna vez había logrado, lastimaría, y no tendría ningún tipo de remordimientos. Ya de pequeña sabía que nadie podría confiar en ella, ya de niña sabía y lamentaba que no podría confiar ni en sí misma. Lo sabía, porque se hacía promesas que al otro día rompería, lo sabía, porque el tiempo le quitaba importancia a lo que alguna vez consideró preciado e inquebrantable. Por eso, compró un seguro, no esperó un segundo más, era una simple criatura, responsable de cargas inimaginables que sólo ella podría manejar. Tan frágil, tan asustada pero con fuerzas de valentía, sabía que tenía que hacerlo, en ese momento. Vendió su alma, al escritor. O se la devolvió, o quizás nunca la aceptó. Le hizo prometer que jamás se la daría a nadie más que a él. Le pidió que la cuidara, porque la confianza y seguridad que tenía en ese momento no le iba a durar mucho más, tenía que rogarle que se la quedara. 'Toma mi alma, escritor, sé que en un futuro puedo regalarséla a cualquier tentanción, a cambio de minutos de placer que pueden terminar en tragedia. Tómala y cuídala, hazlo por mi antes de que sea demasiado tarde'.

La niña no se equivocaba. El tiempo no era una ilusión en su vida, cometió errores tras errores, vivió de placeres, se alimentó del morbo, no confió nunca en nadie. Pero el escritor tenía su alma, estaba a salvo.

The Pleasure of the Secrets.

I don't understand, what am I? Am I your student or your teacher? I just wanna be your lover. Who needs me more than you do? I'm shaking, I'm scared. Are you trying to talk to me? How do I listen to you? Please join me. Are you there? Inspire me. Are you the writer? What can I get from you? 

Are you willing to give me what I want? I want us to be wrong, to do those things that most people don't understand and love to judge. Let's do forbidden things to each other. It will be our secret. Join me. Are you there? How do I listen to you? 

I promise you you'll never experience another kind of pleasure better than this. This is a forbidden level of excitement. No one has to know. I'll be waiting for you. Don't be late, I get bored easily and you wouldn't like me in that mood. Be the secret lover, you know you want to. Follow your soul, please your soul. Come to my sanctuary.

La Criatura.

Al final de cuentas, se trata siempre de lo mismo. La magia de lo prohibido, la curiosidad de experimentar. ¿Importa el medio o el fin? ¿Qué nos da más placer?
Lo esencial del arte es la invisibilidad. Crear espejismos, inventar personajes con la intención de inspirar. ¿No es elegante? Soy todo y no soy nada.
No importa el concepto. 
Si tuvieras que dividir a la humanidad del planeta tierra en dos categorías, ¿De qué forma lo harías? 
"¡Vivos y muertos!", "¡Artistas y científicos!". 
-Felices ignorantes o deprimidos conscientes, dijo. ¿A dónde pertenecés?
Felicidad absoluta, bajo la ignorancia respecto de los secretos oscuros que esconde la tierra; o depresión hasta el fin de la existencia, a causa de esa información que te fue revelada.
-Feliz o deprimido, ignorante o consciente... - se quedó pensando.
"...No lo sé, yo solo quiero inspirar, no quiero ser humano, quiero ser un objeto de obsesión y fanatismo."

Light a candle.

The Writer appeared in my dreams last night. This is a short chronicle, only to thank Him.
It was the best dream a human could ever ask for. I had the power, It was always about it.
I was powerful and now that I'm awake I know for fact that I have a purpose here. I'm alive again.
I entered a room and there the creature was, I told her I couldn't handle the situation anymore and then I kissed her. She kissed me harder: she was awarding me with her essence.
It was about the passion and the pleasure.
I felt so proud, so glorious.
I have an aim which will keep me alive. For now.
Dark tears of joy are coming.

Please me.

"This planet is killing me. But I need the pain, i'm addicted to it. I feel less than dead, less than a vegetable when nothing is hurting me, I need it like drug addicts need their drug, the pain is real, and it's getting stronger."
It was always me, I have always been my own sanctuary. I used to ask myself if I was cursed, but then I'd stop asking because the answer was clearly obvious: Yes.
I've discovered that I'm scared... of being scared. 
Do I want to be frightened?
The writer is playing with me, changing my feelings, adding more of them or taking them all away. What am I?
This is not right, I feel too mature and too innocent at the same time. 
I will never be normal, that's the only fact I know for sure, and it's a relief.
Feeling superior and inferior at the same time, better and worse... the best or the worst.
Having ten personalities or having none.
The other creatures want to know me better, and I wouldn't let them even if I could. 
Am I the last human on Earth or the first human on Mars?
I'm tired of pretending, I have to be sure that hurting others won't have any consequences back home. You know what I do. I hurt others, I enjoy it, more than I should, but they deserve the pain.
This is a message to you, Dear Writer, my friend, my creator, my lover... please make this life on this planet easier for me, help me, I want you here. I want you back. I want you.

Run.

My dearest friend, I received your letter. I'm afraid I must tell you that you cannot join us. I don't want you to feel bad about it, you can still talk to me.
 You're not what we are looking for, you wouldn't last a day with us. You are too weak, too sentimental, you don't belong with us. This place, you don't get to choose to be here. It chooses you. Believe me when I tell you that I'm doing you a favour, Im saving your life... and your soul.
Your blood's different, so is your spirit, be GLAD! be THANKFUL! 
The things we do in here... the secret life we have to keep, it's a lot of hard work and devotion. 
I'm sending this letter to you so you can escape from them, from us. I'm giving you a chance to LIVE. Take it.
Now run before they get you. Believe me they will.
As soon as I give them the order.