The fifth journal writting:
The hands were tired, maybe tired of so much drawing. And eyes were getting dizzy, as I was laying down in the couch. And repetitive thoughts were comin to the mind as I was losing myself into an abyss. Sleepy at the same time, tired of those badasses that are always pissing me off. Bianca was in the same mood, as for the rest of the team. The dictator machine was still chasing us and trying to fuck our lives every minute. So what! We´ve created some masterpieces that somehow pissed off the government, but hurray! That was our true intention, to piss off the crowds! But now, I just want to rest and shit for the rest! Our refuge here is a relaxing place to exist, far away from strict rules or hipocrit and disgusting minds. As I was feeling pot smoke dancing on my nose, I asked to one of the guys:
- Hey! Where is the dope! I need inspiration! - I said.
- Inspiration? Now? For what? Relax dude.
- You fuckin glass of milk (laughs), I need new ways to harass those shitheads out there! - I said
- Oh! you mean artistically?
- Pretty obvious! - I said
As I was chilling out hearing Doom Metal and feeling the dope, Helena Sullivan´s face was reaching my mind, this fuckin Oedipal stage has been cursing me for a life time. But as the illusion was getting sharper, a smile was ripping through my lips as I started to laugh constantly. The laugh was a sign, my will was getting stronger and projects will born and help me to achieve the deepest goals.
The fire burns and will never be benign! That is the bottom line!
Mind Sullivan Elvenpath