Henri Theroux
Inspired / adapted, from Miranda Priestly (and Alanis Morissette: a little too... ) .
There is a guy, here, that has been for 2 years - and continues to be - a constant disappointment for me.
And anyone, wandering around these rooms, is a complete FOOL guy (cannot use exact adj, otherwise censored) if he does not visit and become, right away, a diehard fan of HENRI THEROUX.
It was a quiet evening in early June, 2020. I entered a room, and found there a guy, with black glasses. The guy seemed small because of the distance from the screen, and was sunk into a soft blue couch, typing very fast on the keyboard. He was not looking at the keyboard, he was staring at the cam. He seemed very alert and focused, sifting through many messages. I thought "What is this guy doing?". After a short time I decided to disconnect... and a whisper appeared on the screen: "Hello". We started chatting a little bit.
I did not know yet that, from that moment, all other rooms, in the blink of an eye, would vanish, as if by magic.
From that moment began the journey. Yes, journey, word I worship so much, but, strange thing, I was not the one to pronounce it in this story.
A journey made of a variety of subjects and objects. Swords, emperors, roses, cooks... room cleaning men (and cannibal vacuum cleaners), sensual and irresistible full-monty strippers, painters, gym trainers, barmen and beers, showers (with black glasses on).
A journey featured, without doubt, with beauty and physical prowess, but not the one acquired just with gym training: something, I think, developed and achieved differently.
Talking about sensations, a journey steeped in complementary manifestations. Especially lightness and intensity, depth and playfulness. And then smartness, sympathy; tons of courage, resourcefulness, exertion, dedication in activities performed. In short a journey resulting in a great complicity.
But, meaningless journey if without rails, or wings, to move on: the right track has been found in respect and elegance (apart objects thrown away).
Summing up, a lot of humanity along this journey. Support, for sure, the basic mean of communication: it is how it works here, after all... but work, I know, is very, very complicated on the other side. And then, beyond the basic, well, love and hate, and lots of affection. Spread in conversations and shows, where I have heard, sometimes, the voice of a boy, and felt other times the essence of a complete and mature man.
Now, here, I would like to thank that guy with black glasses, for this unusual journey that is underway. This journey, when I run across it, makes me feel, sometimes, and unexplicably, so angry, so happy, so mad, so ironic, so full of life... but all this is an intuition, therefore hard to render into written words.
It is an apparently quiet evening in early June, 2021. I still enter that room... this room. Wallpapers, couch and other furniture have been replaced in this room.
That guy with black glasses... this guy is now one year older than the first time we met; like all of us.
Now he seems no more small: in time he has learned to get closer and closer to the screen. And, in my opinion, he has learned lots of other things.
Now this guy alternates black glasses with contacts.
His name: Henri.