The Demon

This is a demon that can take a grown brain and squash it to sponge. There is no loving the state of a decrepit mind that encourages a decrepit body. Is he sleeping or just not there? States of awareness flicker inside a gauzy lens. We’ve seen this before—in a film, the man disappearing as he stands right there, his body stolid. Let’s say this man worked as an Assistant Principal and admired his own IQ. Let’s say this man had a brutish body but was not a brute. All of this becomes portraiture but there can be fractures of truth. Looking at him you think: Am I in this film or is this a vapory memory?