Impressum

A.M.G. (2016)

 By Alba M.Grëmbi 

In this life you are a slave; you are a captive of your own love towards the idea of freedom; you are a slave to your need of this world.

In this world you cause pain, fear and loathing: to retrieve satisfaction from the path leading to knowledge; to travel the veil leading to the plain mosaic of your own soul. There, in your soul—finally, you are revealed. You cause pain: to reach the cure hiding a stair to this fear fed inside (it gives you the answer to your own existence). You are a creator—so you are a healer.

A.M.G. (2016)

You provoke fear: to reach the fulfilment resting beside your dreams. Such a fulfilment, you know it too well and yet you completely ignore it. Your fear adopts the majestic form of passion; your passion converts into obsession; your obsession tramps you into your flesh's boundaries; your flesh kills you (it has aborted you from eternity's pedestal). Flesh converts you to human: but humans, there are many! A human simply exists—thus simply exists you. There is nothing to differentiate you! You are now mortal.

Theo (2016)

Flesh tosses you into a pile of loathing—only in it will you listen to your form. You are mortal: (you are who? You are you!) you are it, and it they hate! It, they want you to be. Their loathing tears you apart, your parts carry the desire, and your desire bears hope. Hope: so their hate can mince you into a smaller beast that will be loved; that will exist as a mime of their desire; that will reveal you throughout their own whole. They desire you to see their hope for you—breathe life into it, give birth to it. Their desire litters obsession and obsession litters passion.

A.M.G. (2017)

But there: you are not alone! For humans there are many. And there: you see. And there: it's you, it's me; together, lonely into distant spheres, interrupted by other spheres—filled with mortal creators and suchlike desires. We cause fear, loathing, pain. We are slaves (free into charmed hopes). We are alone (accompanied by the world). We are bleak (clothed with perfect ideas). We are doomed to express the pieces—not to litter the whole. We have the gift of filling the sphere; fulfilling it with perfect ideas, and perfect hopes—but not shredding it as we once thought.

Luljeta (2016)

We impress—we create: we listen; we heal. We impress! We are impressions in obscure dreams—within books of imaginary acts. We are our own ideas clothed with the desires of others. We create (we write; we paint; we sing; we impress).  

Katerina (2016)

It is we: who wish to toss art within the hopes of others; to paint their dreams, to be creators. We are dreamcatchers in a mortal world that denies dreaming.

Katerina (2016)

We are impressum! Impressum!

By Alba M.Grëmbi 

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