I am that clumsy human, always loving, loving, loving. And loving. And never leaving.

I must fight with all my strength so that the little positive things that my health allows me to do might be pointed toward helping the revolution. The only real reason for living.

I hope the exit is joyful and i hope never to return.

Surrealism is the magical surprise of finding a lion in a wardrobe, where you were 'sure' of finding shirts.

Your word travels the entirety of space and reaches my cells which are my stars then goes to yours which are my light.

Since my subjects have always been my sensations, my states of mind and the profound reactions that life has been producing in me, I have frequently objectified all this in figures of myself, which were the most sincere and real thing that I could do in order to express what I felt inside and outside of myself.

pain, pleasure and death are no more than a process for existence. The revolutionary struggle in this process is a doorway open to intelligence