Hotel
of the
innocent

My girlfriend is in the photo, she is in my room in 2018.

In thirty seconds, I put the photo back in the photo album. I place it on the shelf and leave.

She's already there, thirty seconds in the future.

Now only twenty.

I have a photo in my hand.

I found it two hours ago.

It’s still there two hours in the past, in an album, on a shelf in an unlit part of the apartment.

I'm still there looking for it.

I have a photo in my hand, the girl is smiling. She tells me not to take her picture.

Ten more seconds.

Today is February 2055. I'm in the living room.

It's September 2018. I'm alone in my old room, at my mom's apartment. I see her smile…

Four, three, two...

A child calls me from another room. I release the photo, carelessly put it back in place.

We live in an incredibly interesting reality, without even realizing it. Because we live it every day. I try to run after her. To catch her, if only for a little while. But every moment is fleeting whether I like it or not. The only time I’m able to stop them is when I click that tiny button on top of the camera, and all the light gathers into one memory, all the memories into one story. A story about the intimacy of a generation that is growing up. If we are not aware of our reality today, let us at least remember it later, after it has passed us by. So that we can feel all the joys and disappointments again, while we live out some other life.