Abismal

The sound of the risk is is a difficult condition, something awkward, difficult to define, to find or delineate. The risk is that thing that brings whistling to your head, the dagger in your neck, loss easily and hardly verifiable. The risk entails a vertigo, a disturbance; and therefore a danger: the impulse to let oneself fall, the seductive attraction of hurl oneself into a rapture, disdain and breaking passion. Abismal is the sound of the fall, of a modified time, non-cognizable and a tactile material, but invisible. Abismal is the pulse of a hamming city and the heartthrob of its screeching machinery. Abismal is the resonant voice of Madrid, which brings a relentless and immediate present, that falls just as it is upon our bodies. Voice is resonance: Abismal, body tactile; the mask refuge and a ritual for every night, and every moment. Abismal. The sound of the risk.