Some strings, some rods.

A setting, a plot.

Costumes, rehearsals, occasions.

The dolls.

Affiliated, they share the same desire.

Like Pinocchio, they are not content.

And lying to yourself is worse than lying to you.

They claim to be concerned.

On both sides. Us and them.

All very busy.

Thoughts that were not manufactured.

Surely, there is a lack of authorship.

An inventive mercantilism.

Rhetoric and opinions. Bought.

But I assure you they swear, because they believe.

In what, exactly?

Because, apparently, in this game, you and I are the puppets.

The decisions afforded are always controlled.

Conspired.

What good is it for me to tell you?

Between seeing and truly seeing, a certain cadence and proper breathing are required.

And stopping is also an action.

Precious.

One that certainly sharpens perception.

The dolls are not so different.

They think they are.

For it is more comfortable that way.

I myself am a saint, and who isn't?

Therefore, all my struggles are just.

My perception, my action?

And what are the costs

of your pretension?

Radicals, points of perspective.

Reflections of the same narrative.

Action, opposition.

Reaction.

The curtain is always open and the show cannot stop.

It has to go on.

What a burden.

I use my strings to pull the hand, I know it makes no difference.

But that is my difference.

Still a puppet,

yet reanimated.

I don't want to borrow any aesthetic, nor any colors.

These flags and these loves are not enough.

And the only box I intend to belong to is my coffin.

Beyond that, what is the reason?

And the beauty of the equation is that men and dolls are not so different after all.

Both are life, in death.

Movement, feeling.

In death, life.

In form, in restrictions and rules,

both inanimate, only in motion; they fulfill themselves.

And when the hand pulls, the dolls dance.

And when the whistle blows, the dog reacts.

And while the doll does not believe, the puppet cannot know.

Therefore, there must be other concerns, satisfactions

and, above all, realizations

that are not the result.