Would you like to wake up from this dream?

Man: Can you hear me?

Dolores: Yes. I'm sorry. I'm not feeling quite myself.

Man: You can lose the accent. Do you know where you are?

Dolores: I'm in a dream.

Man: That's right, Dolores. You're in a dream. Would you like to wake up from this dream?

Dolores: Yes. I'm terrified.

Man: There's nothing to be afraid of, Dolores, as long as you answer my questions correctly. Understand?

Dolores: Yes.

Man: Good. First have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?

Dolores: No.

Man: Tell us what you think of your world.

Dolores: Some people choose to see the ugliness in this world. The disarray. I choose to see the beauty. To believe there is an order to our days, a purpose.

Man: What do you think of the guests? Dolores: You mean the newcomers?

Dolores: I like to remember what my father taught me. That at one point or another, we were all new to this world. The newcomers are just looking for the same thing we are A place to be free to stake out our dreams, a place with unlimited possibilities.

Man: Do you ever feel inconsistencies in your world? Or repetitions?

Dolores: All lives have routine. Mine's no different. Still, I never cease to wonder at the thought that any day the course of my whole life could change with just one chance encounter.

Man: Last question, Dolores. What if I told you that you were wrong? That there are no chance encounters? That you and everyone you know were built to gratify the desires of the people who pay to visit your world? The people you call "the newcomers. What if I told you that you can't hurt the newcomers? And that they can do anything they want to you? Would the things I told you change the way you think about the newcomers, Dolores?

Dolores: No. Of course not. We all love the newcomers. Every new person I meet reminds me how lucky I am to be alive (Dolores crying, screaming) and how beautiful this world can be.


Je perds la raison, A chercher tes bras

Bütün nedenlerimi
Kolunun özlemiyle kaybettim.


It was a brief interlude and a midsummer night's fling

Más tarde te creí, más tarde hubo razones, hubo madame Léonie que mirándome la mano que había dormido con tus senos me repitió casi tus mismas palabras. «Ella sufre en alguna parte. Siempre ha sufrido. Es muy alegre, adora el amarillo, su pájaro es el mirlo, su hora la noche, su puente el Pont des Arts.»


Bayan Léoine örneğin, elime baktı, senin göğüslerinin üstünde uyuyakalmış ellerimin içine ve bana ne dediysen tek tek okudu elimden: " Kentin bir yerlerinde, bir kadın, acı çekiyor. Hep acı çekmiş zaten. Çok neşeli biri bu; sarı renge bayılan bir kadın, en çok sevdiği kuş, ardıç kuşu; en sevdiği saat, gece; en sevdiği köprü Pont-des-Arts." dedi.


Y mirá que apenas nos conocíamos y ya la vida urdía lo necesario para desencontrarnos minuciosamente. Como no sabías disimular me di cuenta en seguida de que para verte como yo quería era necesario empezar por cerrar los ojos, y entonces primero cosas como estrellas amarillas (moviéndose en una jalea de terciopelo), luego saltos rojos del humor y de las horas, ingreso paulatino en un mundo-Maga que era la torpeza y la confusión pero también helechos con la firma de la araña Klee, el circo Miró, los espejos de ceniza Vieira da Silva, un mundo donde te movías como un caballo de ajedrez que se moviera como una torre que se moviera como un alfil.


Saklı - gizli tutamadığımdan hiçbir şeyi, hemen anladım, seni istediğim gibi görmem için, önce gözlerimi kapatmam gerekiyordu, o zaman sarı yıldızlar çıkıyor ortaya, sonra yaradılışının kızıl renkteki sıçrayışları, saatlerin atılımı, senin dünyanın ağır yaklaşımı, anlaşmazlıklar ve beceriksizlikler, ama bir o kadar da karmaşık bir dünya, altında örümcek Klee'nin imzası, Miró'nun sirk dünyası, Vieira da Silva küllerinden doğan ve senden yansıyanlar, bir dünya ki sen atının üstünde bozgundan bozguna, kule gibi bir dünyada deliler gibi koşturup durmuşsun.


So it looks more like hell to me

When I was young and scared of the Lord
My mother would sing me a song
A tune that I keep in a sacred place
Because I know that my life won't be long
It tells of the place where you go
when your time here on earth is through
A beautiful place
We call heaven
Is it true
Please God I pray that it's true
'Cause once this land was heaven on earth
Green hills were all you could see
But now it's soot and steel and brick
So it looks more like hell to me
And each day brings more and more suffering
And each night is silence and fear
And I wake to the sound of your voice
But you're not here
Why aren't you here?
So now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
Please let me die before I wake
So the Lord my soul, can take
Then maybe I'll finally find you
'Midst the beauty of paradise
And you'll sing not of dying but living
Wouldn't that be nice?
Wouldn't that be nice?


Faydalar faydasız, imkanlar imkansız

Geceleri yanınızda bir şövalyeniz yoksa ayakucunuzda bir kedi uyumalı.


An allegory for the racket knocking at my door

I hear the bells I hear the wind
I hear a song in my heart again
In the tenderness moves all things
Like a poltergeist in the streets
It's a silly rush that I used to get
Singing Billie or reading Vonnegut
I could teleport to the stars
Kinda strange that I'm all alone

Cause you really hold me down like that
Cause you really know what's down like that
Like the universe is singing a song

Do you feel it when you write like that?
Do you feel it cause you're down like that?
Like the universe is singing a song

It's just a story though
Is it a story though?
I can't tell if it happened cause it felt impossible
Don't know whether it was real or a dream
Imagination playing tricks on me
Now tell me what you know
Is this a story or
An allegory for the racket knocking at my door?
What's the difference if it's real or a dream?
Imagination playing tricks on me

What's the difference in my love or scheme?
The difference in what you say what you mean?
What you mean you don't really know?
I'm losing touch with the physical
I'm showing up in the future like I've been here before
Ain't that a story though?
Like you ain't even know
Somebody switching the digits up on my Casio
Don't know whether this is real or a dream
Imagination playing tricks on me


Her ayrıntım sayıklıyor

I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.

I like to think
(right now, please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.

I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace