Artwork for O.O.O. by Drug Hernia
I would like to experience a new flow of desire, to be led into the unknown. Try sex with drugs. One mephedrone pill, my expansion is out of control. I am HIV positive. I stand dumbfounded, window dressing. «I want to fuck you until you kick out your soul». My vision darkened. I was delirious. My blood rotted. I was no longer able to distinguish those pieces of flesh from the muscular men in the porn videos that looped on the TV. Acid sun. Something more disruptive than ecstasy, mephedrone, basati or Tina. He called his drugs conscious. The three days of smoking, snorting, IVs, enemas and fucking had worn off. A lot of males filled with sex and drugs. Chemsex is the bottle of wine that makes dinner interesting. They owned me under torture. They made sure to position me in front of the mirror. That pain turned me on beyond belief. Faulty pleasure. In the next room, on the table, a mix of substances that reminded me of the tray of delicacies my grandmother used to buy to sweeten Sunday lunch. That bestial rage on my ass was instead the annulment of the soul, the panting and sterile desire to fill a hole. Drugs help me with this, they accentuate the separation so that I can finally think about what I want. With substances walls and barriers fall down. Drugs can help to increase the sphere of the possible. Always with strangers, never with friends. In Rome there is a lot of base, that is crack and heroin smoked in a bottle. Usually the drugs are in a different room from the one where you have sex.
I've never seen anyone having sex with a condom. The condom is usually used to suck in the smoke from the drugs being blown into it or as a string to tighten around the penis to maintain the election. I wonder, though, how much of my irrationality I'll have to sacrifice in order to keep it under control. Chill. These pills to prevent HIV infection, together with the effect of the other substances, make us feel unbeatable and during encounters we no longer worry about using a condom. Showers for everyone and then a forced walk around the house, back and forth along the corridor, back and forth as if we were in a rehabilitation centre. Always fighting that it doesn't go limp at the most beautiful and the more you worry the more it disappears the more you do to restore the precarious balance and the more the orgasm goes to hell. «Without chemistry, sex doesn't work». Abandon the idea of finding a classical theatre. «Meow meow, meow meow». She needs her stage set up. Housewife obsessed with cleanliness. «How do you recognise yourself between mephedrone, base and crystal meth?». He played the role of the sex god that crack, crystal and mephedrone attributed to him through chemical synthesis: a puppet destined to sag at the first failures of the drugs. He shook his body with sobs and begged his friend to turn on the light again because the sudden darkness had made him fall into his contracted bowels. But no one had turned off the light; they willingly wore the mask. Fuck, fuck, fuck again. A multitude of naked bodies, toned, flabby, white, black, me shuttling from one ass to another. The sex I had, the lots of sex I had, was just a beautiful backdrop to my desire to totally lose control. I am an undetectable. I'm an addict, I know that now. Now I'm here, white bed, white walls, white uniforms. All too white, disease-flavoured.
The material in this work was created as a sound installation for Area15's presentation of the book Ragazzi Chimici by Angela Infante and Andrea Mauri (Ensemble, 2020)
I've never seen anyone having sex with a condom. The condom is usually used to suck in the smoke from the drugs being blown into it or as a string to tighten around the penis to maintain the election. I wonder, though, how much of my irrationality I'll have to sacrifice in order to keep it under control. Chill. These pills to prevent HIV infection, together with the effect of the other substances, make us feel unbeatable and during encounters we no longer worry about using a condom. Showers for everyone and then a forced walk around the house, back and forth along the corridor, back and forth as if we were in a rehabilitation centre. Always fighting that it doesn't go limp at the most beautiful and the more you worry the more it disappears the more you do to restore the precarious balance and the more the orgasm goes to hell. «Without chemistry, sex doesn't work». Abandon the idea of finding a classical theatre. «Meow meow, meow meow». She needs her stage set up. Housewife obsessed with cleanliness. «How do you recognise yourself between mephedrone, base and crystal meth?». He played the role of the sex god that crack, crystal and mephedrone attributed to him through chemical synthesis: a puppet destined to sag at the first failures of the drugs. He shook his body with sobs and begged his friend to turn on the light again because the sudden darkness had made him fall into his contracted bowels. But no one had turned off the light; they willingly wore the mask. Fuck, fuck, fuck again. A multitude of naked bodies, toned, flabby, white, black, me shuttling from one ass to another. The sex I had, the lots of sex I had, was just a beautiful backdrop to my desire to totally lose control. I am an undetectable. I'm an addict, I know that now. Now I'm here, white bed, white walls, white uniforms. All too white, disease-flavoured.
The material in this work was created as a sound installation for Area15's presentation of the book Ragazzi Chimici by Angela Infante and Andrea Mauri (Ensemble, 2020)
