How do you describe a human life?
Boy, girl, child, grown up, in love, alone, very lost, fulfilled, suicidal, at the same time full of life, incredibly intelligent and very, very naive.
What am I actually doing here on this planet Earth and how do I deal with all these problems?
Who am I? What am I? Why do I look like this? Am I a man? Am I a woman? What is life?
This is a queer story to tell, sir, and madam.
Here is a very strange type of persona who wants to think, and who thinks for himself, by the “natural light.” [1] We must judge whether what we see is an adaptation of an old semiotic, a new variety of a particular mixed semiotic, or the process of creation of an as yet unknown (regime)." [2]
This is the case even though it may sometimes believe it is one or other of these, as a result of the capacity of every discipline to produce its own illusions and to hide behind its own peculiar smokescreen.[1] Besides, the drive to eliminate paradoxes at any cost, especially when it requires the creation of highly artificial formalisms, puts too much stress on bland consistency, and too little on the quirky and bizarre, which make life and mathematics interesting.[3]
Possibly, there is another way to express my odd conflation of apparent normality and completely nonconforming, bizarre, and “unnatural” freakdom.[4] First, a random collaging of materials: avatars, images and narratives are spliced together and, indeed, opposites are forced to coexist (in this sense, ‘nothing is true, everything is permitted’).[5] There is the manner in which the predictions of the managers of our futures have been stretched or twisted, proliferated and pushed to a certain absurdity.[5]
"But what is this queer experience?"
From man to woman,
a journey that defies boundaries,
prompting inquiries into the essence of being, what constitutes normality in a shifting landscape?
With keen perception,
it observes,
the line between reality and illusion blurs,
in the complexities of identity, a nuanced understanding emerges.
As much as the queer is being called a flower, the flower is being called a queer.
It is a queer antiheroic heroism.
I.DEATH
IV.
POLITICS
Soon he had covered ten pages and more with poetry. He was fluent, evidently, but he was abstract.
III.
POETRY
V.SOCIETY
VI.
SEX
"I can scarcely tolerate the word pleasure."
VII.
BIRTH
II.LOVE
Metamorphosis
of Orlando...
The long, curled hair, the dark eyes, the fresh complexion, the shapely legs, the handsome body, and the extraordinarily alluring smile—all these signs of a man in the prime of youth.
Time to duration is as place to expansion.
And this brings us back to the begged question: what is normal? When does regular sex become kinky? Orlando is both a conceptual and a narrative persona embodying the materiality and fluidity of gender. In order to make it possible to think through and live [sexual] difference, we must reconsider the whole problematic of space and time. The transition to a new age requires a change in our perception and conception of space time, the inhabiting of places and of containers, or envelopes of identity.
Fluid dynamics defines a body not by its achieved forms and functions (identity) but by its processes of composition and transformation that exhibit the metamorphosis of fluids able to acquire any shape. By contrast, it is when language appears as dead, when the body is no longer given expressive passage to the word, that there is a break with the line of time; something like the perception of ‘time in its pure state’ emerges.
Sometimes conversation becomes “queer” when anger interrupts the social surface of conversation.
Orlando, it is true, was none of those who tread lightly the coranto and lavolta; he was clumsy; and a little absent-minded.
The red of the cheeks was covered with peach down; the down on the lips was only a little thicker than the down on the cheeks. The lips themselves were short and slightly drawn back over teeth of an exquisite and almond whiteness. Nothing disturbed the arrowy nose in its short, tense flight; the hair was dark, the ears small, and fitted closely to the head. But, alas, that these catalogues of youthful beauty cannot end without mentioning forehead and eyes. Alas, that people are seldom born devoid of all three; for directly we glance at Orlando standing by the window, we must admit that he had eyes like drenched violets, so large that the water seemed to have brimmed in them and widened them; and a brow like the swelling of a marble dome pressed between the two blank medallions which were his temples.
Orlando, who was both man and woman, seemed to represent the very essence of life and youth, untouched by time.
Orlando had always been a lover of solitude, and now, as he was about to enter upon a most solitary existence, he experienced a feeling that was almost joy.
Love, for Orlando, was a dance that transcended gender and time.
For she was a woman now, and the responsibilities of her new sex lay heavy upon her. The pleasures, too, began to impinge upon her curiosity.
As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking. For she had a great variety of selves to call upon, far more than we have been able to find room for in this account of her.
Orlando was aware that time flows differently for those who live as a man and those who live as a woman.
To know oneself is to embark on an adventure; to change one's form is to embrace the unknown.
And as she stood before the window, looking out on the great house, she felt herself swell with a sense of triumph.
Nature, who has played so many queer tricks upon us, making us in one body, male and female, has played none stranger than upon Orlando. The very moment that Orlando looked into the glass, he became a she.
Orlando had become a woman; there is no denying it. But in every other respect, Orlando remained precisely as he had been. Her eyes are pure stars, and her fingers, if they touch you, freeze you to the bone.
The change of sex, though it altered their future, did nothing whatever to alter their identity. Orlando is both a conceptual and a narrative persona embodying the materiality and fluidity of gender.
The heart of the matter is that gender is a construct, and identity is fluid.
Different though the sexes are, they intermix. In every human being, a vacillation from one sex to the other takes place, and often it is only the clothes that keep the male or female likeness, while underneath the sex is the very opposite of what it is above.
Some we know to be dead even though they walk among us; some are not yet born though they go through all the forms of life.
The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank.
He had lived in the time of Elizabeth; he had lived in the time of the Restoration; he had lived in the time of the present day.
But Time, unfortunately, though it makes animals and vegetables bloom and fade with amazing punctuality, has no such simple effect upon the mind of man.
In the freedom of the mind, Orlando found solace from the constraints of societal expectations.
He had written poetry that made men weep and women sigh. He was a poet; he was a lover; he was a dreamer; he was a rebel.
How could the character of Orlando develop further?
How can we put the narrative of Orlando in a contemporary context?
VIII.
...
Orlando (Orlando: A Biography by Virginia Woolf)
Orlando (As You Like It by William Shakespeare)
Orlando Furioso (epic poem by Ludovico Ariosto)
Orlando the Marmalade Cat (children’s books by Kathleen Hale)
Orlando Bloom (The British actor)
Orlando Gibbons (17th-century English composer and organist)
Orlando Cepeda (baseball player from Puerto Rico)
ORLANDO(s)
"Ah, you want to know me—or perhaps, a version of me that fits in this time, this strange world, where labels flutter like old flags and yet we are still struggling to escape their weight. Let me tell you, I have always been more than one thing, and more than anyone ever expected. I am a creature of change, constantly shifting, as much in body as in mind. I am becoming ubiquitous; it no longer matters where I am. [11] I am no simple thing, no one thing. I’ve been man and woman and everything in between. What does that mean? Well, it means I am ever in flux, never fixed. There are those who say I am a phantom, a ghost of contradictions. And I suppose, in a way, they are right.
I’ve been claimed by history, by culture, by every identity that the world has thrown at me—sometimes I wear them well, sometimes not. But here’s the thing: I am all of it. I am all the Orlandos you could ever know—those who wear their identities with pride and those who hide in the cracks of their own making."
- Orlando
Orlando furioso
Orlando Bloom
Orlando Gibbons
Orlando Furioso by Ludovico Ariosto
Orlando is a legendary knight of Charlemagne, portrayed as a hero driven mad by unrequited love in Ariosto’s Renaissance epic. His undying love for Angelica pushes him to the brink, with his frenzy serving as a metaphor for the tormented soul of lovers.
Actor
Though Orlando Bloom is not a fictional character, his name holds a special place in pop culture, often linked with his roles as Legolas (The Lord of the Rings) and Will Turner (Pirates of the Caribbean).
This Orlando symbolizes chivalry, loyalty, and the conflict between duty and passion.
The association of his name with heroic, sometimes mystical figures has given it a unique cultural symbolism.
An English composer and organist of the 17th century, Gibbons is considered one of the most significant composers of the English Renaissance. He is known for his madrigals and sacred music, including works like The Silver Swan. Gibbons played a major role in advancing the music of his time and is still celebrated today as a master of his craft.
Orlando
Ladron
Norald
Dolora
Androl
Roland
by William Shakespeare
In this comedy, Orlando is a young nobleman disinherited by his brother. Fleeing to the Forest of Arden, he falls in love with Rosalind and embarks on a journey of self-discovery.
Shakespeare presents him as a romantic hero, both strong and compassionate, fighting for justice and love.
Orlando Cepeda
A former baseball player from Puerto Rico, Cepeda is regarded as one of the most notable “power hitters” of his time. He played from the 1950s through the 1970s and was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1999. His career represents a breakthrough for Latin American players in the Major Leagues and has inspired many subsequent generations.
"What do I desire? That’s where things get interesting. Desire is not a thing for me to own, no—it’s the very fabric of my being. The bridge becomes my back as I feign belonging, and I become that vehicle for others, which I desire for myself. [1] I desire transformation, the possibility of becoming something else with every breath, every moment. I am not tied to what you think I am, and that is the most intoxicating thing of all. What is it like, you ask? To never be fixed? To be both the mirror and the reflection? It’s exhilarating. You see, I have no problem with a bit of elusiveness, a little bit of mystery. I flirt with myself, constantly reshaping, remaking, until even I cannot catch up. I know very well that this cannot be, but I desire this all the same.[2] Precisely because this cannot be, I desire it all the more.[2]
Bodies do not define me. Not any more than my name, my gender, or my flesh. It’s the space where none of it makes sense. The messy edges where I am neither but also both. Strange, peculiar, weird—but not shocking or shaking. [4] People think I’m just Mickey Mouse and roller coasters. And how delightful it is to sit there, at the edge of everything, where nothing is clear, but everything is open. I desire the untold, the unbecome.
But then again, bodies, what is life without them? Sometimes, I wish for the thrill of unmarked bodies, bodies untouched by the expectations of society. Give me someone whose gender is an enigma, a mystery, a puzzle to be unraveled. But I, like other queer people, am two in one body, both male and female. [3] I adore a body that refuses to conform, that plays with the space between “man” and “woman,” between “masculine” and “feminine.” Bodies should be more than vessels—they should be expressions. It’s not normal, but it’s not weird anymore. [6]
I desire a body that cannot be defined, that refuses to conform, just as I do. Something in between—where the idea of gender becomes a plaything, a game, and where desire itself becomes the space between bodies. Even a marmalade cat deserves a little bit of magic.
Desires
Let us not forget the aesthetic. Beauty is not just for the eyes—no, it’s for the soul. I have spent centuries surrounded by art, poetry, music, all of which speak to something deep inside me. Desire is not simply a physical act, but an experience—one that transcends the senses, one that resides in the intangible, the divine. A lover’s gaze, a poet’s voice, the brushstroke of a painter—these are what stir me. Not just the body, but the world that comes alive in the touch of an artist’s hand or the cadence of a lover’s breath. Beauty is something to possess without ever owning, don’t you think?
And let’s be honest, my deepest indulgence lies in breaking the rules. Everything is a game. Answering male or female blocks the player from entering the game, the correct answer being neither. [7] Never allow the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game. Identity, language, labels are all parts of the game, and we need to learn how to play and turn the game on itself.[1] But the subject object game, for example, structured ordinary perception and science alike, while the most dominant and tragic game of all was the ego game.[8]
It is not just about desire; it’s about the disruption of the expected. The playfulness of an encounter that is neither here nor there, but everywhere. My fetish? To see the world bend. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just a place to visit, not somewhere to build a life. To laugh in the face of what they call identity, and to step freely into whatever form suits my mood that day. At the end of it all, my most profound desire is the freedom to exist outside of everything. To be the impossibility that shapes your world without being shaped by it. To remain a fluid enigma, a constant question, and to find satisfaction not in answering it, but in letting it linger. The freedom to never belong to one single form, to one single idea, to one single place. Freedom to be unnameable, to be all things and nothing at once. I, the queer, ugly weakling, am the ruler of the Galaxy.[5] I can also be a little bit outrageous. I can be a lot of things. I'm a bit of an adrenaline junkie.[12]
By what norms am I constrained as I begin to ask what I may become? [9] There is no fixed point for me. And isn’t that the most delicious truth of all?"
- Orlando
Orlando Cepeda
The Space Between
I slip through time like water
finding cracks in the stone,
a shape that cannot be held.
Once a man, once a woman,
once a name
and now,
an echo in the mirror.
What does it mean to love
if the self is a river,
its banks always shifting,
its depths unspoken?
I have touched bodies,
felt their weight,
but it is the air between us
that calls me home.
There is no final form
no completion in sight,
only the quiet pleasure
of becoming,
and un-becoming,
again.
I search for connection
not in what stays,
but in what dissolves
like salt in water,
fading into a horizon
that never quite arrives.
I love the spaces,
the pauses,
the silence between breaths,
where nothing is clear
but everything is possible.
Weinstone, Avatar Bodies
Heinemann, Fucking Pansies
[1] Deleuze Guattari, What Is Philosophy [2] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus [3] Hofstadter, Godel Escher Bach [4] Anzaldua, This Bridge We Call Home [5] Burrows, Fictioning
[1] Anzaldua, This Bridge We Call Home [2] Butler, Bodies That Matter [3] Anzaldua, Borderlands La Frontera [4] Zajko, Laughing with Medusa [5] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology [6] Lindsay, Aerotropolis The Way Well Live Next [7] Burrows, Fictioning [8] Davis, High Weirdness [9] Colebrook, Sex After Life [10] Braidotti Hlavajova, Posthuman Glossary [11] Connor, Dumbstruck A Cultural History of Ventriloquism [12] Orlando Bloom,
Orlando the Marmalade Cat
i. Death is just not being.
(Seneca, Letters From a Stoic)
ii. Love is a tragic, fated passion; yet, still, heroically, they love.
(Carter, Shaking A Leg)
iii. Poetry is the antithesis of prayer.
(Rosemont, Black Brown Beige Surrealist Writings from Africa and the Diaspora)
iv. Politics, too, is in the business of interpretation. (Deleuze, Desert Islands and Other Texts)
v. Society becomes the subject above all subjects, for whose sake everything is justified.
(Calasso, Literature and the Gods)
vi. Sex is single, double, and crossed. (Serres, Troubadour of Knowledge)
vii. Birth is the birth (of) presence.
(Derrida, Of Grammatology)
Table of content
Red
Gates
Administrative
Building
7
5
7
Kotelnicheskaya Embankment Building
5
1
Moscow State University main building
1
2
2
Hotel
Ukraina
3
6
4
3
Ministry of Foreign Affairs main building
Leningradskaya Hotel
4
Kudrinskaya Square Building
6
II."Love is a tragic, fated passion; yet, still, heroically, they love."
I."DEATH IS JUST NOT
BEING."
III."Poetry is the antithesis of prayer."
IV."Politics, too, is in the business of interpretation."
V. "Society becomes the subject above all subjects, for whose sake everything is justified."
VII. "Birth is the birth (of) presence."
VI."Sex is
single, double, and crossed."
Москва́
Designed by Lev Rudnev and completed in 1953, this is the tallest of the Seven Sisters at 240 meters, including its spire. The MSU building was constructed as a centerpiece for Soviet academia and remains one of the most recognizable structures in Russia. Its monumental scale and symmetry reflect the ideological grandeur of Stalinist architecture, signifying the importance of education in the Soviet Union.
Hotel Ukraina (now Radisson Collection Hotel)
Completed in 1957 and designed by Arkady Mordvinov and Vyacheslav Oltarzhevsky, this building was envisioned as a symbol of Soviet hospitality. At the time of its completion, it was the tallest hotel in the world, standing at 198 meters. Its ornate interiors and imposing façade embody the opulence of Stalinist Gothic while its strategic position along the Moskva River makes it an architectural jewel of the city.
Completed in 1953 and designed by Vladimir Gelfreikh and Mikhail Minkus, this 172-meter-tall building serves as the headquarters of the Russian Foreign Ministry. Its stark, austere façade and prominent spire make it one of the most imposing of the Seven Sisters, symbolizing diplomatic authority and control.
The smallest of the Seven Sisters, this 136-meter-tall hotel was completed in 1954 and designed by Leonid Polyakov. Its interiors are lavishly decorated with traditional Russian motifs, making it a celebration of national heritage. Despite its relatively modest size, its ornate design reflects the grandeur typical of Stalinist Gothic.
Built between 1947 and 1952 under the direction of Dmitry Chechulin and Andrei Rostkovsky, this riverside skyscraper was originally conceived as luxury housing for the Soviet elite. Standing at 176 meters, it combines elegant Art Deco-inspired vertical lines with traditional neoclassical details, creating a poetic presence along the Moskva River.
Built between 1948 and 1954, this 160-meter skyscraper, designed by Mikhail Posokhin and Ashot Mndoyants, provided luxury apartments for Soviet officials and cultural elites. It features a mix of neoclassical grandeur and homely interiors, making it one of the more approachable yet still prestigious buildings of the group.
Completed in 1953 and standing at 138 meters, this building, designed by Alexey Dushkin, was initially intended to house the Soviet Ministry of Transport Construction. Its functional design prioritizes practicality over lavish ornamentation, yet it still retains the grandeur characteristic of Stalinist architecture.
The Seven Sisters of Moscow are iconic skyscrapers built between 1947 and 1953 under the direction of Joseph Stalin. Designed by prominent Soviet architects including Lev Rudnev, Dmitry Chechulin, and Alexey Shchusev, these monumental buildings embody the Stalinist Gothic architectural style—a dramatic fusion of Soviet neoclassicism and American Art Deco. Their design was intended to assert Soviet power and dominance, both domestically and on the world stage, during the post-war era.
Orlando Cepeda
Orlando from As You Like It
Orlando City
Orlando the Marmalade Cat is a fictional character from a series of children's books written and illustrated by Kathleen Hale. First introduced in Orlando (The Marmalade Cat): A Camping Holiday in 1938, Orlando is a charming and resourceful orange cat who embarks on whimsical adventures with his wife, Grace, and their three kittens, Blanche, Pansy, and Tinkle.
Orlando, Florida, is a city in central Florida, recognized as a major hub for tourism due to its numerous theme parks, including Walt Disney World and Universal Studios. It serves as the seat of Orange County and is one of the most populous cities in the state. The city is also known for its subtropical climate and proximity to Florida's lakes and natural reserves.
These skyscrapers are not just architectural marvels but also cultural and ideological symbols of their time. Designed to rival Western skyscrapers and reflect Soviet ideals, they stand as enduring reminders of the ambition and contradictions of Stalin’s post-war vision for Moscow.