I got a green light bulb remembering how he used to love watching me say good night to the green ghostly monitor screen before I could take the camera to the bedroom with me, it was a whim, I was just stepping out of Yoga class and I cross this small old electricity store where a bunch of colorful small light bulbs were standing on the counter. On the first night, I set the brightness to high and it didn’t have any effect but on the second night, looking at my bed room from the living room, it’s sunken in darkness aside of a bright green spot that washes half the bed in retro-futuristic glow.
“I’m going to brush my teeth” I say into the air, knowing that he’s watching me and hearing me through cams and microphones, but not being able to see him, I just hear the quietness of a different space from the speakers in the living room “wait” he say “ I think you should sit on the bed” I sit on the bed, and he tell me to remove my clothes, which I do, first my T-shirt and undershirt, then my jeans, then my bra, I lay on the bed “you still have your underwear on” he say “take them off, or they’ll get in the way” and I do, lifting them up in the air before I throw them to the floor so he’ll see that they are off, I can’t see myself and I can’t see him, but I can imagine him seeing me, and I can imagine how I appear through his own eyes, and how that green light blend the green and white and blue stripes on those underwear to an even shade.
Not being able to see him and knowing that I’m being watched, very closely by him, through the camera, and hearing his voice, so in control, so far away and yet, all around me, engulfing me, caressing me, makes me feel as helpless and under his control as if i would have been blindfolded, his presence, so allusive in it’s distance and yet so substantial, down to the core of my heart, my cunt, my entrails, that frame of mind, that perfect yellow brick road between contradiction in terms such as binded freedom or pleasurable pain, his absence makes his presence so excessive, more real then real, he is not there, and so he’s everywhere, in my apartment that his voice reach, between the cracks in the wall, behind me, around me, in me.