I got into a discussion about the genesis of desire with one of my friends. It dealt with the fact of carrying "the world" along with you, or an image of "the world" engraved upon your body. "Sometimes desire and imagination", he told me, "become gag, an indelible torture that doesn't allow us to see the scalpel or the rivulets of blood that begin to drip from our shoulders".

"So why is this recurring image, like the one you carry with you?"

"Cities and ideas we have about them are often composed of clichés, of simple view on postcards. So, why not?"