Original subtitles

I just wanted a new life.

The problem is I forgot how to live.

I don't exactly remember when all this started.

First time I saw them entering by the window, I thought they could be just

hallucinations.

Is it possible there is someone else out there?

Is it possible that I'm not completely alone in all this?

Are there others who could have possibly survived?

Is there someone?

Where are you?

The idea disgusts me.

And bring me release at the same time.

I want them to suffer also.

And if not the same pain, at least a tiny fraction of it.

Is there someone?

Where are you?

Yes.

In my dreams, I run.

I see infinite lands of green, of nothing.

Running seems to be the only logical thing to do.

It's an amazing sensation.

I don't know why I run.

Maybe I feel like there is something following me.

Maybe I'm running away from someone.

Maybe I'm trying to escape myself.

I see my body as it was before, in the past that I can't remember.

Meanwhile, I run.

There is total silence.

I can't even hear my breath.

Even nature silences herself.

Her sound seems like just a fading memory.

The wind caresses the leaves, but not even the wind.

Useless coats of skin, flesh, that can only be purified

by fire.

watching me from inside the I the whole universe is inside

the I everything is there

even I am inside the I

I remember once as a child, my parents couldn't find me for an entire day.

They warned the neighbors, called aunts and uncles, and even thought about

calling the police.

That night, they finally found me.

I was under the bed the entire day.

My mom, out of both shock and happiness, was hugging me and biting me at the same

time.

I woke up that day.

Feeling like there was something pulsing inside my chest.

Like something was burning.

I wasn't even able to go to the bathroom to wash my face.

And I realized there was no way I was going to be able to have breakfast.

Or even get my backpack ready for school.

I wasn't able to that day.

And I don't know why.

So I decided to hide under the bed.

If they hadn't found me, I don't know how long I could have remained there.

I was able to breathe.

The fresh feeling of the floor on my back was pure pleasure.

Everything about my life had become pleasurable there.

Almost as if I wouldn't even need to breathe anymore.

It somehow seemed like I would be able to start living without anything around

me, or even without my body.

From that day on, every time my parents couldn't find me, the first place

they would look would be under the bed.

so many hours down there it was a beautiful time in my life

No.

Oh, no.

I don't want to do it.

Every time it becomes more complicated.

The elevated pleasure of the start, leaving me in a place of controlled

discomfort.

That even if it makes everything feel better, when I'm finished, it just

amplifies the sensation of how this body belongs to me.

Every inch of skin.

Is mine.

Under each section of flesh.

Behind each piece of skin.

I can feel myself.

What a terrible revelation.

Everything.

That I don't want to feel.

Only in the moment when the flesh starts opening.

Only when that little point of metal bites a small soft.

hole into my skin, showing me the live and fragile meat that it can devour. It

doesn't even seem like I feel any better.

It's all so fleeting and short, too short.

I don't want to do it, but I must.

To be the rain.

To feel the grass tickling my feet.

To be the grass.

To be the leaves.

To be the water.

To feel how the cold opens the pores of my skin.

To be the wind.

To be everything.

Everything.

Deeply ironic.

I can't even find better words to say it.

It was the first gift from my mom.

She told me she found it during a storm.

It was about to fall in a sewer.

She said that she picked him up for me because she knew that I would take

care of him.

It's really ironic how her life seems to be already written.

in vibrant red letters.

I can see them clearly, like a mark written in fire.

It's like it was written in a parallel dimension of time and space, not now,

and not here.

It seems like every single moment of life is the result of a choice that I

didn't make, and the result of experiences I never had.

It's like I will never be able to escape.

Escape the chains connecting me to this life.

Haunting the very life we are destined to live.

Still living.

I used to sleep with him.

Eat with him.

I would even bring him in the bathroom.

Forever together.

He was always there.

When I was too big for toys, my parents decided to give all of them away.

But not him.

He was the only one I wanted to keep.

From that rainy day when my mom told me that she found him near the sewer ditch.

I have always kept him with me.

He reminds me of who I am.

He shows me where I'm going.

But most of all, he reminds me how all of this

is in spite of anything.

I feel my head.

I feel my face.

I feel my neck.

My shoulders.

I feel my arm.

My hand.

I feel my back.

My genitals.

I feel my legs.

My feet.

I feel all of myself.

I am everywhere.

I feel myself and that is the only thing I feel.

We'll be fine here.

Here we are.

Can't you see us?

There's a place for everyone here.

You can't escape.

Do you know that?

You can't escape.

You'll be fine.

You'll be fine.

You'll be fine.

Everyone here is fine. Everyone here is fine.

I love you.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

you're not being accomplished

I must come back.

I must try to come back as a human.

Become a man again.

It is the only chance.

Thank you.