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Quote by Irene Pujadas

“La vida a la ciutat se'm complicava: hi havia lloguers per pagar, amors per trobar, gent amb qui rebolcar-se, sabors per tastar, contactes per fer, contractes per aconseguir i després buscar-te amics que et salvessin de tota aquesta intempèrie. La ciutat era una massa fumejant de mel, dolça i densa, calentona, però si et despistaves podia engolir-te sense miraments.”

Quote by Irene Pujadas

Work

Els desperfectes

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Irene Pujadas

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“I am possessed—not by devils from hell, but by nerves that scream louder than sin. Every breath is a betrayal. To fake calm in a corpse that still moves is the cruelest joke. The devil wears my skin now. And he lies.”

“He wasn’t dying—he was being harvested. Flayed alive by nerves that refused silence, each breath shredded like lungs packed with razors. A blink drew blood. A thought detonated fire. His studio became a mausoleum, and he, its invalid—crucified, disowned by his own biology. He had begged for the compound that once shackled the torment—denied. They called it withdrawal; he knew it as state-sanctioned mutilation. His fingers clawed through endless typos, desperate to name the unnamable. Even his phone collapsed mid-sentence, unable to carry one more fragment of his possession. He wasn’t sick. He was erased. Invalidated. A failed experiment rotting in plain view, too grotesque for rescue. And still he burned.”