Chapter 3


I will alternatively call you

- Colin (like the fish)
- Merlan frit
- Prince Charles
- Jajg
- not Roderigo
- You prick
(only sometimes)
- fckboypandemic
- Blueboy
- Ginger
- Glitterboy

Beste klanten,

Yes,
Here's a new season to this

Fascinating story

Starring Prince Charles The Puke

As a guest star

And myself

As an ongoing (exhausted) character.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Dear fans,

Nouvelle saison,

Nouveaux rebondissements.

But Pricks

Always the same.
Beste klanten,

Starting now

Because you can't wait

Et

Sans plus attendre

Dear Jajg,

I miss you

No.

I miss the fact
That you could love me

While you don't.
Dear Merlan frit,

I am launching a writing project called "dead letters" - lettre morte, en français, un mot qui reste lettre morte c'est un message qui n'a servi à rien ou n'a pas été entendu...

Lettre morte

Oui bon je sais
c'est un peu dark
Dear hot recipient,


I see myself
In the kitchen
Approach you from behind
While you're cooking

I would slowly
Start kissing
Your nape
And then slowly
Start kissing
The side of your neck
Right in the middle
Between your ear
And your upper shoulder
And I would
Pull out my tongue
Slightly
And taste
The particles of your skin.

I see myself
In the corridor
Facing the bedroom
Open door
You are sitting
On the edge of the bed
Naked
With the white sheets
Between your legs

I would slowly
Approach you
Kneel down at your feet
On the soft fluffy carpet
And start kissing
Your chest
Your belly
And then slowly
Pull up the sheets
And start kissing
Your sex
And I would
Pull out my tongue
Slightly
And taste
The particles of your skin
And
Your pre-seminal fluid.
Dear Prinssy Prinssy,


NIGHTMARE


I feel like

A

Knight mare


KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE

KNIGHT MARE
Dear Jajg,


"Night poem":


Camomille
Argos
Fuck
And then
Ginger.

Ginger
Fuck
And then
Argos
Camomille.

Camomille
Fuck
And then
Ginger
Argos.

Fuck
Argos
And then
Camomille
Ginger.

Ginger
Argos
Fuck
And then
Camomille.

Camomille
Ginger
Fuck
And then
Argos.

Ginger
Fuck
And then
Camomille
Argos.

Camomille
Argos
And then
Fuck
Ginger.

Beste not Roderigo,


Feeling turned-off today.
Dear You Prick,


Feeling turned-on today.
Dear all,


I see you blocked me, I did block you before and now I lost your number because I erased it from my phone... This is ridiculous, I am sorry. We can both be super excessive, I can see that! Please don't block me again. Let's have a coffee sometime to calm down and nothing else. I don't want us to stay like that, it's exhausting and it hurts... I promise I won't send more than 1 message a day, I am not so crazy that I will track you or whatever. I would just like to have a short moment for us to calm down, and nothing else. Nothing else expected, I promise. I hate this situation of mutual anger, it's exhausting. Please don't block me, I really don't mean to hurt you and I can just sit there and have a coffee nicely ;-) Ok this is my message for today, I hope you will respond (nicely, as you can also be ;-) I hope this message will speak to your softness and not to your anger. I am not dangerous
Dear You prick,

I want you to be crazy
Cause you're boring baby when you're straight.





Dear hateful of sorrow,



Hate yourself boy

Stop hating yourself boy


Dear Merlan frit,

I'm sending a letter
I'll send it right to you
I'll send it to Memphis

I know that someday
Everyting I needed
And I wanted

Used to be
That my head
Was haunted

And all these sirens
They make me mad

And all this violence
It brings me down.
Near Jajg,

Now we live on the sea and relax
And ride the tack
Drug running on this panamanian schooner
And we listen to the sea
And look at the sky
In a poetic kinda way
What do you call it here
When you look at the sky
In a poetic kinda way
You know when you grope for luna?
Dear Jay,

People say you're nice.

But I sense

That you can't love.

Dear Prick,

I don't want your money

Ça se saurait

Depuis le temps

Que personne

Ne me donne rien.

Slipping of the tongues 👅

All over the place

Sliding

Gliding

I feel dizzy

The online dictionary says:

"vertigo, risk, and also delight."
Dear UFO,

In the end

I will call this new ongoing processual project

HEARTWASHED

Because

BRAINWASHED

But otherwise

And also because of

"How to Wash a Heart" by Bhanu Kapil I love her though no link

Love you kiss.
Dear Jarvkanupodjebdzda,

I know you're gonna disappear someday.

Why?

Because I know you're gonna disappear someday.

Why?

Because I know you're gonna disappear someday.

Why?

Because I know you're gonna disappear someday.

Why?

Because I know you're gonna disappear someday.

Why?

Because I know you're gonna disappear someday.

Why?

Yes, why?
Dear Jkajdg,

My loneliness is killing me

I must confess

I still believe

When I'm not with you I lose my mind

Give me a sign

Hit me baby one more time.
Dear Jajgdkpuke,

(consent not to be a single being)


Dear fckboypandemic,

The story is entirely true,

Because I imagined it

From one end to the other.


Dear Colin,

In my story

There is no nenuphar (or, is there?)

There is no mouse (or, is there?)

But

There are dinausors

There are bees

There are plants (monsteras and misères)

There are viruses (plenty)

And GLITTER
all over



Dear not Roderigo,

I know

I am gonna kill you

Because

I am a manta ray

no

or maybe yes

But surtout

A praying mantis

You know what they do to their lovers

Yes they do

But I will do this softly

It's gonna be alright

Don't worry.
Dear Prince Charles,

This is

open

heart

surgery.

Dear Prince Charles,

You know

When there's a

Black tide

In the sea

They take the birds

And they put them

In a sort of

Washing machine

With soap

And hot water.


Let's have a bath

Together,


Hotglue.



Not dear you,


You are the Black Tide,


I am the Dark Matter.






who cares
Dear surgeon,


Think about

Clitwhorries

(clits, whores, worries)

Soft and sweet







Beste klanten,

I miss the time when

I was alive.
Dear
Princess
Charles,

No
Sex
Last
Night.

Dear Merlan Frit,

How to talk about the body?
Dear not Roderigo,


Maybe we met too late.

But if we had met earlier

Nothing would have happened

either.



Has anything happened already?

Will anything happen somehow?


One was a dream

One was a nightmare


Is there a third term?
A third time?
A third space?


I want the first one
But it seems
I can only have it
Together with the second.





Dear Ecuapukaj,




Reza N. writes that


Oil is a narrative lubricant


(and a black corpse
of the sun)



I don't know



There must be something

related to George Bataille




Lubricant


Sun


Histoire de l'oeil





Both digital


and anal(og)








Yes fingers can do a lot





Dear Ecuapukaj,

Argos like in the Argonauts

oh oh and also

Jason and the Toison d'Or

What a PUTAIN de TOISON

What a PUTAIN de TOISON

All SHINY

So SHINY

And so SOFT

I fcking love it

Let me touch it

Pleaaaaaaaase
Dear Ecuapukaj,

Yes

I

Want

To

Lie

Down

Naked

On

The

TOISON

On this leather sofa

in your living-room.

merrie
merry
mare marry me
Dear Oily Sun,


You name sounds like a marque de shampoing.

So oily
So sunny

Lubricantly lubrique.

Beste Prins,

You're so spacious.
Dear Jajg,

Tu as raison d'avoir peur.
Dear Jajg,

Tu as tort d'avoir peur.
Dear whatever the fck,


You've got to, ha ha, ha ha
You've got to, ha ha, ha ha
You've got to, ha ha, ha ha
You've got to, ha ha, ha ha

Tape ain't gonna fix it honey
It ain't gonna stick
Tape ain't gonna fix it honey
It ain't gonna stick to you

Six kinds of glue
Won't hold you
Won't hold you
Oh my oh, oh my
You've got to

You've got to go straight ahead
You got to
You've got to go straight ahead
You got to
You've got to go straight ahead
You got to
You've got to go straight ahead

Time ain't gonna cure you honey
Time don't give a shit
Time ain't gonna cure you honey
Time's just gonna hit on you

I said, time ain't gonna cure you honey
Time don't give a shit
Time ain't gonna cure you honey
Time's just gonna hit on you
You got to

You've got to go straight ahead
You got to
You've got to go straight ahead
You got to
You've got to go straight ahead
You got to
You've got to go straight ahead


*The Kills, Tape Song

Dear Jajgdkpuke,

STOP 

SPREADING 

SALT 

ON

MY

WOUNDS !!!
Dear Jajgdkpuke,

Farewell

My

Black Balloon.

Dearest beloved ones,

I want to live in a bathysphere.
Dear Butternut soup
with a heart in the middle,



Last night he could not make it
He tried hard but could not make it
Last night he could not make it

On a holiday, for many miles
Looking for a place to stay
Near some friendly star, he found this mote
And now we wonder where we are

How could this so great turn so shitty
He ended up in army crates
And photographs in files, his tiny boat
Sparked as he turned to grazed our city



Dear Little Johnny Jet,

We need to slow down.
Beste prinzessin,

Oceanic feeling

-
So overwhelmed by all her flaws.

Dear fckboypandemic,


I need a fog machine

Pour enfumer tout ça

Blurry eyes

There is a window of cries

That cannot spill from there

I need a fog machine

To empty those wet sockets

En toute immunité*



* I wrote impunité but the robot corrected me so I left it like this. Maybe it was the fog robot.


Dears,

I need a love doll.