Lullaby for all the hangovers past and to come, 2019

dans le cadre de l'évènement VEDMA lors du festival SOIR, Brasserie Beaubien et dans le cadre du festival Tanthem, appartement privé, Montréal.

Introduction : My drunkenness is a transmissible family trait, a predetermined and inescapable tendency bestowed upon the children of the degenerates, the poor, the uneducated, the overworked.


To despise a lack of self-control and to attribute success and respectability -indeed moral itself- to the power of a disciplined will

civility, self-control, disease, false science, health, the sweat of sectarian convulsive seizures, foolish predictions, temperance, scrupulous naiveté / a civilized person has to be convinced that if they failed to integrate social norms-------------- then they would become ill

our frail and sick incandescent bodies

the escape     

                 into a rift

where time stops flowing        and the space is fragmented and

we fall

deconstructed adventures

and the narrative frames are superimposed and decomposed and

when we wake up we

       feel our bodies that have become whole

and empty again

(our bodies that were,

   six hours ago,

a multiplicity of vibrant excited contradictory energies)

our holistic bodies back      in the world of time where minutes are minutes


    in the silence

to feel several soft

             and unpleasant sensations


our attentions are no longer playful and chaotic explosions

our attentions are slow and dissipated pain


our whole body tries in an effort of syncretism

to merge with the world around them

/ the world-bed /the world-heat /the world-other-bodies/ the world-undone-sheets

livind dead subject : escaping the repetitive mundanity of a machine culture in which the body is imbibed by both capitalism and patriarchy

wound culture and ------- female drunk

everytime I drink I hope

to never reconnect with rational reality and stay in an explosion-like state 4ever

we want the irrational to carry our instincts to the intoxicating will of the depths of our asphyxiated and stirring bodies

the inside of our mouths tastes like hot concrete

(l'intérieur de nos bouche goute le béton chaud)

the irrational chose us we had a body and energies that knew that the night would give a vital sense to our criticism of Cartesianism we had located in the irrational the only chance we had to overcome the deadly effects of the disembodiment of thought on our way of life, thinking, enjoyment

the inside of our mouths tastes like hot concrete

(l'intérieur de nos bouche goute le béton chaud)

the inside of our mouths tastes like hot concrete

(l'intérieur de nos bouche goute le béton chaud)
photo: Tanthem