Paulo Valente

I detest reason. I am a form of nonsense. I fight against the man who dances the waltz a thousand times. For the sake of white, I flee from the rule, but I do not flee from the shadow. To be trapped is to have counted movements and vigilant eyes that seek color. What future is there for someone who sleeps with a stagnant present? These are moments of freedom in a world that has lost its rainbow and gained contrast. It is the mark of extremes, sweetened by the grace of gestures. The fear of the obvious in exchange for the pleasure of the new. There is no middle ground. There is no dilemma. The option is decisive.