thea.curtis:
I don't see anything, do you?
thea.curtis:
Maybe you're watching the others, maybe you're watching me. But you didn't see it, right?
thea.curtis:
Thank you... Have you any news?
thea.curtis:
I took the fragments of my memory and buried them under my bed. Do you remember me?
thea.curtis:
Please hide your shadow in the reality box and then run.
thea.curtis:
In real life I exist only as an idea of myself.
thea.curtis:
And in the end the illusion of glittering lametta.
thea.curtis:
Glitter color of memory
thea.curtis:
That's what you woke me up for?
thea.curtis:
The silent taste of meaning in pink.
thea.curtis:
What if we all run away?
thea.curtis:
The forgotten souvenir from an imperfect monochrome memory. Can you hear it?
thea.curtis:
Thanks for clapping. One at a time please.
thea.curtis:
The melancholy of perspective.
thea.curtis:
The color of systemic revolt.
thea.curtis:
The Labyrinth of Minotaur Part Two - Cloud Life in the Cathedral of Now
thea.curtis:
I don't want to panic you or anything, but you can take a picture of me by taking a stone and painting me on the rocks by the side of the road. Does this work for you?
thea.curtis:
Could you help me with something?
thea.curtis:
Can we change the subject of imagination? Let's play - like kids under the sun. Southern Greece / Polaroid SX-70
thea.curtis:
The illusion of meaning. So what?
thea.curtis:
What do you mean the suite may not be available?
thea.curtis:
Don't give that cowboy any money.
thea.curtis:
the loudest band of the world
thea.curtis:
Thank you, please wait as your individualized operating system is initiated.
thea.curtis:
I made myself a supergirl
thea.curtis:
What are you doing here?
thea.curtis:
Any exploding mailboxes?
thea.curtis:
What happens at sunrise?
thea.curtis:
After a long quiet moment... I want to show you something – The night is now dark.
thea.curtis:
I listen to the sad whispering of the surreal place called Trona. Can you hear it?
