We almost have the same memory
you and me
In dim hotel rooms
you meet girls every night.
You don't understand the world,
you devour it, that's all.
The only solution is to live
But to live is difficult.
You are looking for perfection,
even if it makes no sense.
What you know gives you strength,
but your vanity
is enough to make you lose your way.
Everything in the world is like a mirror
and your inner wounds
are reflected in vacant eyes
You try to set yourself free
by debating yourself.
You never tell me
about your true motivation.
My hopes and my wounds
will be devoured.
Is it for me that I'm crying today?
Or is it for your heart,
whose purity I touched?
The red hole... maybe it's you.
Get me out of there...
I want to tell you the story of some girls.
She for whom sex is a weapon
which she uses to kill man;
she for whom the taste of saliva
sperm and vomit intermix
with the taste of life and provide solace;
she who tries to live
without feeling the wounds
to her heart and body;
she for whom working in a brothel
remains incomprehensible;
she for whom sex and her self
mean nothing but money
and who earns her living on believing that.
she who was violated by the man she loved;
she that was raised
like a domestic animal by a rich man;
she who asks herself if it's dirty,
dirty sexual mechanics
bought by dirty men.
She who thinks "I want him!"
and thinks only of that,
when she chooses a man;
she who became dependent on her pimp and on masturbation;
she who, preserving love,
submits to sex, to man
and to her vagina;
she who knows she will die soon
and feels desire
for her lover;
she who thinks of herself as dead
ever since she was raped
and hopes to take revenge through sex;
she who received the sperm
of fifty men
and enjoyed it;
she for whom watching herself fucking
is the only act
that makes her conscious of her life.
You,
you call me Iku
but my name
is Rei.
What you will do
with these images you've taken
I never knew and still don't.
I know nothing about your intentions.
Your language and your ideas
remain obscure.
There are difficult moments,
when making love is merely a job,
with no emotions.
Then my body takes its pleasure
but my heart remains cold.
There, for the first and the last time
in my work, I made love
with someone that I loved.
I'd like to be able to do it again
but in my work it doesn't happen.
The done thing is not to show one's feelings,
to make them manifest.
I feel guilty
because I did that.
I showed what should have not been shown.
In my work, the act cannot exist
outside an awareness
of the distance that separates us.
This is known by those who sell their bodies.
You call me Iku,
but my name is Izumi.
When you film me
it's the camera that records;
when the clients look at me
it's their memory that records.
In the penumbra
I slowly open my eyes,
I see the clients' faces.
I feel their gaze fixed on me.
The light becomes stronger.
I dance on the stage.
I feel exposed.
I slowly undress.
Their stares intensify
and I plunge into a closed world.
I shut my eyes.
I caress my body
and when I open them again
a light in the dark separates me from reality.
The world becomes more beautiful.
I don't realize which was the moment
when my conscience started to slip.
In this state of mind, a part of me
which I usually keep hidden, comes out.
When there is the same mood
on the stage as in the room
I feel pleasure
and I dance as if in a dream.
Some focus on my body, others on the stage.
The stares come from everywhere,
to every part of my body.
Most of my clients are real pigs.
I never go over to them.
When they get close with no warning I push them away.
Everyone has their own way of watching.
It's not a look of desire
that you have for me.
It's different to the clients'.
When I was lying down
and you were taping me
I lost my awareness,
like I was asleep,
like I was floating.
That's all I can remember
I was absorbed by you.
I let you see this.
Even if you only look at my body,
I try to give you
this moment of satisfaction.
You,
you call me Iku,
but my name is Kana.
You like forbidden pleasures
and I like to do what's forbidden.
It excites me and I take pleasure in it.
I think I'm greedy.
You are susceptible to pleasure.
You hide it but you, too, are greedy.
Threesomes are the most exciting,
but also the emptiest.
I live with two faces.
I need them both.
I have difficulties in choosing which I am.
At night, I satisfy my desire.
My naked truth is disorder.
I want the power.
But I also like frailty.
I want to preserve my fragile side.
Inside there's darkness.
Sex satisfies the heart and the feelings,
not the body.
Masturbation satisfies me.
In masturbation there's no love.
There's love in sex.
I want love
when it satisfies all my desires.
The act itself is empty.
The body and the heart exhaust each other.
Women can also be empty.
After they've come,
they are satisfied and their desire is gone.
Extreme love is born of secrets.
You call me
Iku,
but my name
is Kei.
Woman
is both source of life
and deep wound.
To this deep hole
and this deep wound
men approach, looking for death.
You're one of them.
You,
if you approach me
looking for death,
please, don't touch me.
Life and death
are given to us.
You don't have to look for them.
Women
lie sometimes in-between
consciousness and unconsciousness,
past and future,
this world and the one beyond.
Since you know that,
when I tell you I can be
a mirror for you,
or a window,
can you ignore what I say?
A mirror
reflects the state of things,
encloses and seals
the moment.
A window
is an opening
to a different world.
It makes air flow around you,
and agitates it.
You won't be able to ignore completely
the women who, like me,
remain in-between the two.
You have a look,
undesirable and intense,
like a dagger.
Love and hate
are purified by women's acts,
but the particular offering of love
is always dirty.
The forbidden look and the sacred one,
the separation and the purification repeat themselves.
I couldn't be with you
if I didn't protect myself.
The beauty that has fallen into the human world
is entrapped by embodiment and desire.
The light disperses and becomes again sky blue.
Women are a refuge for life,
pure and transparent.
You shed tears but
do you know where they come from?
Tears are an ephemeral shelter.
Things immemorial,
such as joy and bitterness,
pass through you.
You say you are alone.
You approach the other sex
and death.
You run towards death
but the tears you shed
are not yours alone.
This is what I believe.
As for me,
to live
I have to stand up.
You,
you are afraid of death
and of darkness,
but you come closer to them.
The suffering and the beauty
of being naked have to be sublimated.
But I think that what you're trying to do
is to enlarge the woman's wound,
which you approach desperately,
seeking extinction.
I can't let it go without saying anything.
You, you call me Iku
but my name is Sayo.
You watch me, You don't understand me.
You say you don't see what's inside me.
It's just that I don't do anything to explain myself
You're interested in me
because we have things in common.
I find pleasure
outside ordinary sex.
I play on my own,
for my own pleasure. It has no special meaning.
I'm not trying to attract attention.
When others observe me, I don't care
whether they understand me or not, or what they think of me.
I don't seek to share my suffering,
I don't want to be understood.
I act without emotion.
You find this strange.
It's what sets us apart.
You need to express yourself
and you act.
I dream of a place without sex,
That's all I dream of.
The body I long for
is not neutered,
but asexual.
I seek neither love, nor sex,
neither pleasure, nor relief.
What turns me on and makes me react
is tension.
I don't want to be a woman,
an object of desire.
I don't have feelings for anyone.
If the pleasure
is only a matter of sex,
then it's not enough for me.
Being alone with myself living in the moment, is all I want.
I can't stand sorrow.
It's not a life or death matter.
I do what I do because
I want to enjoy the moment.
I don't think about death. I don't look for it either.
Not being a woman,
ignoring men, this is my way of being.
To gain an understanding of what is hidden,
I have to make an effort.
The essential is that which is not shown.
Iku
is the name you gave me.
But my name
is Saki.
You want more reality
and you get inside me.
Like a shadow,
I try to become a part of you.
This is what I've done.
It is there, where I see no promises,
that I see strength.
Do you want to go on, lost,
or would you prefer to end it here?
What you're looking for is here,
in the red.
You have been constructed
by mirrors and shadows.
I remember
one night, you told me
that everything is an irony.
Even when you're inside me
you aren't satisfied.
You swim towards
the interior of my being.
You can't run away.
I don't know me.
You can't know me.
My mystery
constructs you.
I'm lost.
Where am I really?
Close to you, close to me?
I advance alone
without noticing
that the person I've constructed
advances alongside.
I would like to retrace my steps
but there isn't time
to do so.
I sense your presence,
but my thoughts are directed towards the exterior light.
I want
to be there
and yet I refuse to go.
I plunge
into my instinct...
I don't want anything else.
And you, what do you want?
I'll give you whatever you want.
Don't leave me alone.
I have fallen into an abyss.
You enter me,
to the depths of me.
The more you go in
the more you lose yourself.
I'm a gaping hole,
a red hole.
Don't erase me.
Don't leave me.
I'm in pain.
I come.
What should I do,
come into being or erase myself?
Why am I a woman?
Don't go.
You're still there.
Where am I?
Inside you?
What have you seen?
You,
you call me Iku
but my name is Nao.
What I remember
is that your body
was heavy...
and that, later on
you took care of me.
My organic liquid
is like a red, dirty,
lukewarm jelly.
A fly buzzes
in my uterus.
There's a dull ache in my lower abdomen.
My body spits out dark blood,
my brain slightly bleached.
Inside this core
the insect drones.
When I crush it, nothing changes.
The noise heard down there,
the sensation experienced,
the pain felt,
the bitterness in the throat,
and the defiled body;
they often return
in flashbacks.
You walk in the forest at night.
A strong man grabs you.
He's armed and you cannot move.
He forcibly inserts his truncheon, 408
his penis.
Imagine that he tears your body,
that your insides boil.
The burning rod penetrates your body.
You want to scream,
but the pain is too strong.
My uterus doesn't bleed anymore,
my shoulders are freed,
the man is gone.
I no longer hear his breathing.
Pain blurs everything.
The bitterness in my throat,
after sucking him...
It's not just in my head.
My body wants to be swallowed.
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid,
I don't want anyone.
Why is that?
I don't know how to get better.
Even when I'm in love, I'm afraid of making love.
I'm afraid of everything
It's stupid how they find pleasure inside me,
because I hate men.
But they're all I love, too.
What can I do to forget?
I had ordinary sex
for the first time in my life
with you.
Ordinary as it was, it's strange
I didn't feel disgusted.
I don't know why,
but ever since that moment
I have felt relieved.
You, do you lose your equilibrium
in painful solitude
to a point of no return?
Me, I allow everything.
I take the risk of not being able to return.
It's a physical suicide.
You, you get closer
to a mental suicide.
You cry from time to time
without shedding tears.
You cling to me
but that doesn't change
this repugnant vision:
you, who are disgusting,
and me, whose flesh is disgusting.
You don't know
what girls truly look at.
I wanted to know this
so I became them.
I have no regrets
but it was not a good experience
If I had done nothing but watch
I wouldn't feel so bad,
but I went to the other side
and I don't know what to do anymore.
Because I'm a woman
I could look closely ... touch ...
but not being a woman would have been better.
I don't know what you're looking for.
Maybe it's not worth knowing.
But, to be able to change things,
one has to know.
Help me to be born again.
I can't stand up.
I need your help.
I don't like men.
I destroy myself until the very end,
and then I ask men for help.
The most important thing for me
is the core of my own being.
The most important thing for you...
...I don't know what that is.
The same thing, surely.
Not knowing is disquieting,
so I start being afraid and that makes us closer.
You have met many girls.
I don't know what you have discovered.
Maybe you don't know, either.
I don't know
what the future holds.
Until then I was angry. I laughed, I cried,
I finally made a choice.
Why
does it keep spinning round my head?
For every possible answer,
I have ten others that come to mind.
Nothing is repaired.
When I say this, there is a noise in my head,
It would be nice to do better than that,
to work my guts out,
and fix it all.
I used to want to disappear
Now I don't.
I miss you.
I feel like I'm fading away.
Each day I die a little more.
Subtitles: Fr > En translation by KarinKarinovna Timing by corvusalbus