Daphné Hérétakis

Film

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he says to me “I’ve just realised I’ve spent a year crying because I fell in love with a madwoman”

I answer “how melancholy swimming pools are, I’d never thought of it”

he says to me “there’s nothing melancholy about a swimming pool, I find them quite joyful”

I say to him “think how conceptual it is, a bit of sea imprisoned in a concrete square painted turquoise. the supreme artifice”

a hundred links open on my browser. my attention is dispersed “confiture de lait. confiture de lait without a pressure cooker.

wilhelm reich. paris-athens flights. peaches fuck the pain away. waste orbiting in space”

I have lost all contact with reality. it all goes through my computer. this is the life I want to perfect, and not my own.

my room is topsy turvy, but my profile, my profile must be impeccable, please my sister says to me, “look at that dick, he’s always listening to music on spotify but never answers”

I say to her, “what’s spotify”

she says to me “what planet are you on”

I feel a bit like the screensaver on my computer in a loop and waiting.a sunset, an exotic landscape a passion fruit

I can feel disaster coming

Dane says to me, “aphne, your life is not a greek tragedy”

is it because of Greece that I see everything through the filter ofmelancholy?

this film is a shipwreck I am adrift wandering the streets of the north searching for a face, a sign that something could still happen here, today

Liberty Box winking at me, I want it to burn and on my wall a photo with this tag that someone else posted

“we’re going to eat the fascists my love, I promise you, we’re going to win” will we go together to Quai Branly one day?

Daphné Hérétakis

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