(right side of the body is paralysed, the zooming of electricity & inevitable technological overthrow is in the surroundings)

L: What is time?

R: Time doesn’t exist. It is the dissolution of matter. As if time were a worm robbing the fruit of its pulp. I savour every loathsome moment, I cultivate a momentum.

L: How to keep this momentum?

R: Expose yourself to no distractions, don’t pause, stare into a wall, enter silence, work from the frustration of not having an arm that can be lifted above your head, work when you’re horny.

L: What is the opposite of momentum?

R: Sitting in a café waiting for inspiration to strike.

L: What is inspiration?

R: Dangerous.

L: What’s dangerous about it?

R: I am mortified to start a new project. In order to work I must place myself into the void. The danger of stirring up hidden things…