"Extract from the Report SUGAR BLUES..." by Estíbaliz Espinosa

Extract from the Report SUGAR BLUES by Opia Z7 concerning the addictive activities of homo sapiens

marginal notes:

These humans are weird. How could I have fallen in love with them?
Investigate the Italian Dolci preziosi case.
Experience in own circuits the syndrome known by the scientific name Sugar Blues.

BAZAAR OF SWEET HUMAN THINGS COMMA THE LEGENDARY SUKKAR.

Whispering at night.
The feel of certain types of worn out china.
Staying asleep and avoiding the routine obligations that make us acceptable to society.
The sound of copious rainfall outside.
A dimly lit spot.
Chimps that don't mind their keepers.
Dumbo's mom.
Noticing someone staring.
The imaginary voice of Scherazade.
Strung-out junkies in very large cities.
An orgasming woman's neck.
Dragonflies inside a red Nestle's can.
The face of the Childlike Empress.
Lunch with curry smell.
Those swirly bits in Mahler.
Those little out-of-tune music boxes
Those Venezuelan culebrones.
Imagining Paleolithic people painting a cave.
Imagining Paleolithic people copulating because of me.
A girl playing in front of a mirror.
Honey that hangs from his lips without actually dripping.
"Considerando en frío, imparcialmente..."
Waking up every day, every day with a message from him.
The last flakes of a snowstorm.
Bloody Russian stories of Baba Yaga.
The first flakes of a snowstorm.
Naughty kittens.
Hair-dos in photographs of our ancestors.
Catching someone lying for someone else.
"Polar" malt soda.
The rotting of a flower on the grave of an epic hero.
Anarchists sitting in front of grafitti.
Your smile when you read this.
That masculine taste some call musky.
PJ Harvey's Angelene the prostitute.
Opening one's veins and bleeding to death.
Opiates.
Sappho.
The sugar blues when it's Sunday night and there's no message from him.
The sweet sound of your name.
The sweet slavery of one's drives.
The sweet coldness of the galaxies.

(my translation)

[from zoomm textos biónicos]