Songe d’oubli, 2015
I dream that I am writing this story. The images follow one another and twirl around me in a dizzying whirlwind. I see myself writing on the notebook as if enclosed in a parenthesis within the dream, in the eye of a cyclone of silhouettes that are both familiar and unknown to me, that emerge from the fog, appear for a moment, circulate, speak, gesticulate, then stand still like photographs, before getting lost in the abyss of night, crushed under the avalanche of oblivion, and being engulfed in the disturbing calm of the lake’s waters.
…
In this distant haze of oblivion everything is written, and beings and things seem to be enveloped in the slowness of what we are just beginning to remember, of what has just awakened to the renewed life of remembrance. On the page of the notebook where I write, the dream projects, diffuse and imprecise, images that still retain the torpor and laxity of their own dream of oblivion.
Salvador Elizondo, Elsinore
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