A young man, wearing a dark blue suit, stands in the centre of an empty set and takes his jacket off.
I’m in ecstasy, or am I ecstasy.
He stands, looks arounds, and twists his wrists.
Each of my cells embrace the
Growing eloquence of mercy
In this cell.
My tissue aching in the mirage
I need a tissue
Is this real?
He begins to move his body slightly as music begins (Toro y Moi – ‘So many details’).
Sitting on the balcony of the sky
Looking down my cranial cavity at the tiny people in their tiny lives
And then I’m knocking down the parameters of my body’s protection
Pretty pill in pretty paper. Pretty pill in ugly mouth.
His movements become more jagged and the images overlap to look like two bodies moving in the same space. His eyes close and he unbuttons his shirt.
And now in this dark alley we’re swaying.
And now in this doorway we’re judged.
And now in this body all my blood is broken.
And now in this club, like my drinks, my feelings are mixed.
He taps his feet and his hands jerk outwards as he dances. Different films of the same man dancing are played over each other so his movements appear more fragmented and jolting.
Teeth grinding and eyes blurred
Sweat on my fingertips, or knuckles
I can’t sleep but I don’t want to
Mouth dried and sickly sweet
Body steaming as I breathe in
Inspiration, or inspired by the addiction
His body is moving fast and his quick dancing is interjected by a still image of him staring directly at the camera. The two images blur and the whole screen is messy and confused.
Dopamine and noradrenaline and serotonin.
My genes stick to me.
My jeans stick to me.
As the obsession grows, so does the fear.
The image fades to black.