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Would you be interested in a submission play? A trust play. A play about a special state of subhumanity.
I wanna find you facing a wall in a forgotten place. No words, no movements. Letting me touch you and play with you, without you being allowed to speak or move. A submission play about subhumanity. One of us will be a subhuman. And let the other to play with you and bring you to a human state. A simulated and guided humanity. Answering questions, and doing what is told of you.
all is permitted. Safeword involved.
Ask for more info… if you are interested.
I am making a video
I am looking for
male/female – nonprofessional actors
to act with the open pussy and talk about
it as an entrance to another life and reality
you can be ugly or fat or self deprecating
no face showed for the girl
erection from the boy
with nudity and simulated sex
I am making a gay video
I am looking for
2 male non professional actors
to talk about fabric of reality
with each other
fight and kiss and caress
you can be ugly or fat or self deprecating
with nudity and simulated sex
as much as you can do
A room filled with crumpled tent tarps of 3 x 5/8 meters
Beneath the window a bed or mattress.
Onto which Lio is naked, dancing fear and distress and tension.
From the tarps as in a wakeup, appears Gia a wondrous being from another universe.
She adapts to the world around her in weird perceptions and moods.
She has her palms and face covered in gold glitter.
He has his face covered in black. Muted.
After a time she recognizes Lio as a being and approaches him.
She touches him, they begin to meld, to exchange discoveries.
Each one speaking his own body language.
Step by step they begin to explore their sexuality. Their genitals. The sensations that takes them beyond.
Until he becomes erected and relaxed on the red bed. And she is above him, sliding in him. Dancing inside and outside him.
On her face, on his face too. Brief changes with the face of the other. A joining is happening. The gold face becomes black. A black face becomes golden. And clean. Flashes.
As she is dancing ontop of him. As we see her from behind in silhouette sliding up and down on his cock. Both black figures on the light outside. Both dancing weird as touching the air to push it away from them.
He comes up to her and begins to play with his black face to her golden face. Bit by bit, weirdly their faces become faces. And their faces become clean. They kiss with their eyes closed.
And they slowly open their eyes. And they see each other and they connect. Eye to eye. One eye. Dual eye. In which their bodies contorted, devoid of soul, chained one to another are circling in the green crumbled tarp [reverse motion]. Bodies in the eye. Until the bodies are eaten by the tarp and transforms all in a swamp landscape – Vacaresti Lake – and we can hear the nature too. It becomes all so very real.
And somewhere in a hidden corner on the ground, there is a small pile of gold. On which drips very slowly a few drops of blood.
In a small white room, on the white bed sheets put on the floor, a naked girl is combing her long long hair from behind with her Left Hand Black. She has her eyes closed. We see on her lips the mumbling.
SONATINE My name is Andrei I am 26 years old because under any subtle acoustic creation, the attentive beings secrete the sad silt. They save the flying birds that die daily on the crude pathways. And if these flights they would be chosen they would jump over the warm buzzing lines of the touched turnarounds.
She stops her combing and takes her head back and opens wide her mouth. She takes out her tongue. Drops of saliva fell from a BOY’s mouth into her’s. She closes her mouth very gentle. And so so softly, like falling into a sweet sleep she lies on the white sheets.
She takes off his pink wig. And then the glasses.
Under his clothes he has plastic under which there is blood. After she cuts away the clothes she cuts his plastic shield away.
He remains naked and bloody.
She pours gas over the clothes and set s them on fire.
Then, she takes a red thread and ties it to his cock, and measures it carefully to be on the earth with some longer thread. At the other end she ties the stone that he had in his mouth.
FEMA Its death of the thing that keeps you back. The one you try to overcome and become better. Here you can become everything.
Fema takes her hand away and uncovers her beautiful moist pussy.
LOQUE I am just one. One at one time.
FEMA No. You can be more. You can be all.
LOQUE No… no… no… no… no… I need me. I need mine. I need myself.
He gets closer and closer to the pussy. We see his erected cock getting near the pussy. From the back he trust in her. And as he trusts again and again he disappears. Only her bent legs remain and them get under the frame, relaxing.
In the frame from the left side enters the boy. And gets closer and closer to the Flesh. He is intrigued and fascinated by the soft warm piece of Flesh. The touches it. And plays with it. With the back muscles, with the buttocks. With the lines and lights and darkness on the flesh. He gets close with his face. He bites the flesh. He touches it with his tongue. And then hugs it with his cheek and with his eyes and whole face.
In an empty white room, APHO and REMUS are sitting one opposite to the other. Both naked and between them there are two bowls one white and the other red. Around her there is a circle made out of twigs and green leafs.
Apho takes from the white bowl and puts on Remus head. Making him dripping white all over. Then she puts her hands in the red bloody bowl and puts on his head the red blood.
Bodies born from the head
Fighting, Breathing from the water of knowledge
Running around the flowers of doom
In the night that shrieks of pain
One small light
Hidden in the sweet mud of torn bodies
In thick revenge smell of iron ore
Bodies and bodies and flesh without words
Lighted by the candle of the woman soldier
Of the woman mistress
Of the woman goddess
Light over the blind
Bewildered on the new
Breathless of the ecstasy
The woman fells in pieces among them
Among the breathless corpses
Their dieing teeth brake pieces of her rose flesh
Their bodies diseased with anew virus of life
I’ve just finished a 3rd short script. The 3rd gay artporn story.
It was #Rocco the story about the love between a man and his inner voice.
#Stone a magic trip of two guys that transform a stone in bread.
And now with #Routine about a sexdate between 2 str8 men, one at his first sex with a man, the other married and at his first love date.
It is so interesting how gay sex is much more magical than str8. I find that str8 sex is like a closed circle, that creates a world and that is the end of it. While gay sex is a continuum, an open state of things that can create and integrate in layers and layers of life and meaning.
Str8 is too too much complementary 😛
Unmade – are posts about what I would like to do and couldn’t find a way to do it. Either no performers or no financial possibilities. Usually no performers because my ideas are often too pornographic, too emotional, transgressive, too truthful without any possibility of hiding behind a controllable Persona.
Table at the window
It is very early in the morning. Its raining. Is like they woke up too early to get somewhere administrative. Now they enjoy their cup of coffee and silence. They are both in their home clothes, the ones they’ve been sleeping in.
Are we alive?
I don’t know.
You don’t believe in death, don’t you.
You have to live.
[As a teenager’s impatience and lack of knowledge, of conscience of death. They don’t know what that is, they cant identify with it]
Brona drinks his small cup of coffee. He looks upset outside the window. He doesn’t want to go anywhere.
I dreamed last night. I mean this morning. [I never dreamed anything since I was a child]
It must be because of this rain.
I dreamed that I was sleeping underwater. And I woke up scared and swam to the surface. It was a big pool in a ruined construction. And there was a little girl that helped me get out of the water. She said she was waiting for me. Crazy, no? And she asked me for the place of the gates of heaven, and I showed her. And I entered in her and became one with her. Crazy, no? But in the end she became dried, burned bushes. And I woke up. Crazy no?
Kosan likes his dream. It made him feel alive and pulsating. He was the gate keeper.
But the air in this room is dark gray. Brona has no reaction to him. Is like Kosan’s story is the most boring story ever.
They continue the silence, the coffee. The morning cold summer day. Continue reading ›
PSYCHOACTIVE MALFORMATION – a high angle camera that sees only the floor. On it pieces intermingled of humans dance a weird atonal dance. They are all naked, and all have one kind or another of a red stripe going somehow on their bodies. They are a single big organism, ecstatic, psychoactive vibrant. In some parts mouths and cocks are united in a play dance. Hands are grabbing floating open vaginas. Erect cocks dancing in the air.
Different speeds of each element. Slight change of color.
It is about the way we see a human as having human shape. And that we assume that shape as being fixed and incorporating only one individuality. But we are made of living pieces of many people all around us, be it mind, be it knowledge or emotion. We are a network of elements.
And all these elements are fitted together with the purpose to create that ecstatic experience of life. That mystic perception of magic time and space. That inner perception not of only one, but of the many.
All is permitted as long as the goal is PIETY