Chiaroscuro Reveries

In the tapestry of my existence, the hue I favor above all is the enigmatic blue—a color that embodies both the essence of desire and the void of nothingness. My very name resonates with the promise of bliss, an aspiration I hold dear. Likewise, my chosen gemstone, a beacon of hope, stands as a testament to my convictions. Yet, who truly comprehends the depth of these pronouncements?

I find a profound solace in the scent of the pristine earth, mingling with the cosmic harmony during the union of the firmament and the virgin land. Rain descends, imbuing her with vitality, breathing life into her very core. The fragrance of her form and the symphony of her libidinal calls resonate within me—a celebration of sensuality that intertwines with spirituality.

Am I confined by the constraints of time and space? It seems I have encountered myself on numerous occasions, though these reunions often appear futile. I have taken on the role of Hamlet's puppeteer, manipulating his narrative to suit my own purpose, driving him to the brink of madness. Gertrude, once a queen, now emerges as a nymph in the realm of my imagination. My intentions were to urge Hamlet towards the forbidden realm of incestuous desires, culminating in matricidal tragedy—a reimagining of their inherent nature.

Yet, it is not Hamlet alone who occupies the stage of my creative orchestrations. Porphyria's love, a presence both beguiling and beguiled, captivates my musings. His justifications, eloquent and entrancing, stand as tributes to the beauty of his devoted service. In the crescendo of my narrative, Hamlet succumbs to self-inflicted demise. He carries his mother's half-lifeless form and plummets into the depths of a lake, guided by Ophelia. Here, at the crossroads of reality and dreams, sanity and insanity, they traverse a threshold that leads to a realm where the boundaries between the two are fluid, uncharted, and full of enigma.

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Dead and Buried

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The Ballads of Gravity

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