No More Man

A body does not belong to itself, but to the imagination that inhabits it.

It’s an imagination who falls sick, possessed by orgies of broken bodies, decadent pornography, and tales of faded love. It slowly dies. Choking with its own instincts.
Its own drives.
And it loses his right to desire.
Abandoned by an empty screen, at times, one wonders if one is still a man.