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Thursday 8 November 2012

Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal


I walk with a box in my hand.  This box could be my home.  I fit inside despite my obesity.  I could climb right in at night and find a little protection from the cold and the heat.  I could fill the box with my possessions.  It is a sturdy box, but not indestructible.  The box will serve its purpose.  It could even serve as a coffin when I die.  But it won’t withstand the dirt and creatures that live below and above the earth. The box is not for me.


I’m no squatter.  Still the police took me away.  All my property was abandoned.  I lost the script I wrote for the next great show.  They took away my dreams.  Now I’m on the outside looking in.  I’m back in the hospital.  They have given me new pills.   There is a new diagnosis.  There is a man who is my double.  He sleeps in the next room.   He is living my life.  In the bathroom I purge the new pills.  The toilet swallows the poison.  I try the door handles, but they’re all locked.   If I had the key, I would flee this freak scene.

I cannot be away from Planet Mountain for too long.  I am the ruler of this land and need to be vigilant of invaders.  For ten thousand years my kinfolk have guided the people of Planet Mountain  through war and famine.  I don’t give a care what the doctor says about me.  I am not delusional and this is not where I belong.  I plead to the Man in the sky to make my heart strong.  The rivers of Planet Mountain are flowing with the blood of my enemies.   I am from Planet Mountain.  I want to go there.  I am from the Planet Mountain.  It is surrounded by a lake of fire where Nimrod’s child bathed on warm summers.  At dawn the sky explodes in a myriad of colors never seen more than once.  On the other side of Planet Mountain it is pitch dark.  Glaciers form in the wintertime and pigeons freeze to death.  Deer run wild and free in the spring and in autumn strange birds migrate in droves to Planet Mountain.


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