Steph Orozco

“I lay and cried, and began to feel again, to admit I was human, vulnerable, sensitive. I began to remember how it had been before; how there was that germ of positive creativeness. Character is fate; and damn, I’d better work on my character. I had been withdrawing into a retreat of numbness: it is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch one. But my honest self revolted at this, hated me for doing this.”

Negar la muerte. Temer la agonía. Ignorar el peor espanto: las crueles escaras del abandono.

                                                                                              Manuel Villena

Ph: Miyako Ishiuchi, One Days

[text ID: I belong to quick, futile moments of intense feeling. Yes, I belong to moments. Not to people.]

“A people that no longer can believe anything cannot make up its mind. It is deprived not only of its capacity to act but also of its capacity to think and to judge. And with such a people you can then do what you please.”