Lígia Lille

The process of depersonalization maintains a dialogue with the objectification of the body, a sort of thingified flesh, clothed in animosity. In an epiphanic act, the sutures reveal themselves as the reflection of this gaze upon its own spilled fluids and transcend into an internal soup. It is the stream of consciousness in its purest form. It is the raw and the bare. It is the visceral nature of facts. It is the merging of worlds. It is the flesh in turmoil.

The process of depersonalization maintains a dialogue with the objectification of the body, a sort of thingified flesh, clothed in animosity. In an epiphanic act, the sutures reveal themselves as the reflection of this gaze upon its own spilled fluids and transcend into an internal soup. It is the stream of consciousness in its purest form. It is the raw and the bare. It is the visceral nature of facts. It is the merging of worlds. It is the flesh in turmoil.

The process of depersonalization maintains a dialogue with the objectification of the body, a sort of thingified flesh, clothed in animosity. In an epiphanic act, the sutures reveal themselves as the reflection of this gaze upon its own spilled fluids and transcend into an internal soup. It is the stream of consciousness in its purest form. It is the raw and the bare. It is the visceral nature of facts. It is the merging of worlds. It is the flesh in turmoil.

The process of depersonalization maintains a dialogue with the objectification of the body, a sort of thingified flesh, clothed in animosity. In an epiphanic act, the sutures reveal themselves as the reflection of this gaze upon its own spilled fluids and transcend into an internal soup. It is the stream of consciousness in its purest form. It is the raw and the bare. It is the visceral nature of facts. It is the merging of worlds. It is the flesh in turmoil.

The process of depersonalization maintains a dialogue with the objectification of the body, a sort of thingified flesh, clothed in animosity. In an epiphanic act, the sutures reveal themselves as the reflection of this gaze upon its own spilled fluids and transcend into an internal soup. It is the stream of consciousness in its purest form. It is the raw and the bare. It is the visceral nature of facts. It is the merging of worlds. It is the flesh in turmoil.