Beginning of a century, enigmatic turn, who would dare to lean on the edge of the abyss, with the body placed, to face the center of darkness and all the beasts, burning the sight before the crack, which opens apart the age in two pieces?! As a knee that shoots against the back, it runs every day with the colossus of images, limping as the scale of microsecond exchange infrastructures increase, ever more abstract. With all the landslides and all the mud, the blaze over jungles and trains, fallen skies and murky waters, metaphors won't do a thing; and the creaking of appetites taking over the surface, the endless drugs menu with those emojis, and new-cyborg corps, prostheses, hormones, and vocabularies, digging their nails and canines into the jugular of known language. Beginning of a century, the esoteric creatures of the earth manifest themselves as always. In the perception of everything there is no nature, or everything is nature, one will say. Under the purple twilight, the jaguar breathes, the wolf copulates, and the snake bites its own tail. Game, lead, algorithm, solid or fluid, enigmatic. The hours, one after the other, carrying inside stones and shells, irons and bricks, and among all the crackle, which at any moment makes one feel the thread of what is still standing and what will soon collapse. Beginning of a century, never getting anywhere, now, to be on the way, blessing the eye, discerning in the fog, facing the tragic, inhabiting the light, invading the voids, diluting false dualities, manipulating form, seeing from within, and from without, us and the monuments. Far from the lethargy of the bodies, waking up with the icons in the mouth, chewing what is decisive, pushing away a bad omen. The chemical impulse of the verb. Potency in every aspect!