Hello, stranger! I'm Diego Garcia , formerly known as Hotel . This is a doom-scrolling website designed to encapsulate the ongoing forward motion that is living as a single human in Planet Earth using all mediums available to translate what we've been through into new and tangible, repeatable forms - may you find at least part of what you seek in its digital, borderless pages
Flower Eater Anonymous / Jeanette Fan Club / Corotico Studio / Tape Enthusiast / Transatlantic dreamcatcher / Open Guitar Tuner / Tik Tok Detractor / Low Volume Jams / Sun-Drinker / Reluctant Zuliano / Padmasambhava Admirer / Hobbyist Game Boy Game-Maker / Oneiric Albatross / 2023 Dragon's Lair's Pioneer League Final Top 8 Finisher / Suitcase Man / Cloud-factory Worker / Lydian Naturalist / Minimalist Drum Machine Operator / Late Bloomer
RECORDS
2021 New London Fantasy
2015 Paisajismo Nocturno
2013 Otras Muertes
GAMES
Deborah (Deborah)
thank you for your advice
I'll take it to heart
Deborah (Deborah)
thank you for your advice
I'll take it to heart
"Take what you need
and leave the rest"
"There's no in-between
you deserve happiness"
Oh, Deborah
thank you for your advice
I'll take it to heart
Oh, Deborah
thank you for your advice
I'll take it to heart
(to heart, to heart)
I'm over acting smart
I'm going to let the days wash by me
not call back anyone
stay inside and rot my mind off
with a barrage of pixels
on a screen trying to cheat reality
colours more vibrant than life itself
the most fragile of lifelines you'll see
The sun came out today
I saw it burning through my windowpane
have they all gone insane?
I get the newsfeed pumped into my veins
Oh, what a cavalcade of children
playing with their hands open to the wind
One day they'll be fathers and mothers
soon they'll close their fingers in a fist
One day they'll be leaders and lovers
and they'll close their fingers in a fist
One day they'll be dreamers and cutters
closing their hands against the wind
Against the wind
Against the wind
Against the wind
Against the wind
"MAPS"
"when i was a little boy i used to stare at maps, whenever i did that i could feel myself running through the grass... warm ground underneath my feet, and the wind ringing through the trees and through the hills - isn't it strange that we give names to mountains? mountains don't know what they're called - but anyway i was flipping through the maps and the pages were glossy to my touch, i liked the pages, they remained cold even though it was forty degrees outisde and the sun was burning off my grandmother's yard - when i was a little boy the engine was always running, sending off steam in all directions, desperately searching for connections, and yet the signal comes around sometimes, maybe disconnected, rambling, mumbling, moaning - but it comes. to be honest at this point it's more a matter of nurturing the thunder, waiting for it to roar... for example, the roar says "in the rhythm of all breathing things there's a prayer, it consists of the silence" - when i was a little kid i was obsessed with the moment of recognition so of course a map was a key to the highway and the highway was a portal to the realm of possible things - to the realm of possible things - now i've come to understand that words are meaningless: the abstraction of the world is not the world. you cover yourself in fresh new paint and sink into the river and let it wash is off, and you get out and do it all over again. sometimes the paint is red, sometimes the paint is blue, sometimes the paint is golden. sometimes the paint feels like the truth. sometimes the paint feels like the truth"
As a whole, we remain obsessed with our appearence - the way we present outselves to the world is a carefully curated accumulation of isms with which we try to shape our personality, whatever that word means, the feeble armature to which we cling in the hope of making a place in the world for ourselves - we send selfies to loved ones, we paint portraits, we write songs, we go shopping for clothes, we look back on our pasts armatures and don't recognize ourselves in them, the spheres we use to let the light in distort all images, we wobble through life blind, trying to learn how to see