I am becoming increasingly frail.

Reading one more artist’s statement describing the symbolism, allegorical intent, contradiction and meta-meaning inherent in their latest series of paintings/ sculptures / whatever THAT thing is will finish me off.
Witnessing the length that some people go to explain to waiters exactly how they want their steak cooked is a profound experience. In a planet where we have reduced the entirety of several animal species to nothing more than chemical fuel for our continuous existance only so as to slowly turn the place into a barren wasteland such spectacles seem equally pointless and grotesque, like watching someone in hell shopping for shoes while a demon is chewing his feet off.
Whenever I watch salsa dancers do their thing in this country, I am always terrified by their smiles. They look like a combination of one of those horror movie puppets and what one would look like if they were asked to smile by the Joker.
One of the reasons I avoid watching Cypriot films – other than them being almost always incredibly crap – is that I can’t stand the discontinuity of the scenes. Yeah so you are driving in the capital, turn left at the traffic lights and then you are at the beach. Wait. What?! I guess our big-ass directors aim for the Palme d’Or and don’t give a shit about local audiences.
After watching a number of world cinema movies at the annual film festival I crave for the next Mad Max and Terminator films. I guess watching movies about incest, rape, loneliness, incest again, murders, child abandonment and whatever stuff the latest Greek directors call “movies” nowadays is not as rejuvenating as I had thought.
Sometimes I think of skin as chocolate. During such periods the sight of a particular woman – that is the one that is singled out from the crowd – will lead me to the nearest confectionery to get an item of matching cocoa composition

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