I don't want to go on being a root in the dark, insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep, going on down, into the moist guts of the earth, taking in and thinking, eating every day. --Walking Around, Pablo Neruda doing nothing has almost become the thing to do i walk around, think about this or that, i allow myself to be almost tired of the mutations, pieces of me falling apart wrapped in the shades and shadows of the others i tire of observing the bodies, large, short, heavy the walking dead that accompany me hard to picture those bodies full of liquids as solid, malleable, finite in their eternity filled with lights and darkness happiness, sadness, joy, pain, anguish ... all compact in a dimension beyond reach I allow myself to be, it's true, because i no longer want it i don't want to play this or that role of the young or old man, a man, a homosexual, a partner, lover, friend , companion, worker i tire of representations, repetitions, the in...