Last night I dreamt I had another name
I would be called on that new name
and respond to it like it had always belonged to me
I liked assuming my new identity
looking at myself at the mirror and recognizing something
I didn't see before
I didn't want to see before
However, my face was the same
my face and my blood were the same
how much of me is set on my name?
how much of it is on my blood?
was I lied to this whole time?
Do I belong somewhere?
New names are amulets against this sense of loss
that buries me in a sort of non-place.
I have no place
and no name belongs to me
it is set on my face
it is set on my blood.
Also check:
Notable Women in History: Chapter 1
The Importance of having Female Role Models
#Philosophizing Part I: About Philosophy and its link to knowledge
#Philosophizing Part II: About knowledge and how we come to know
#Philosophizing Part III: About Socrates and self-knowledge
#Philosophizing Par IV: About Dogmatism and the possibility of knowledge
Extract of an essay: Rhizome
Primer Delirio | First Delirium
Segundo Delirio | Second Delirium
Tercer Delirio | Third Delirium
Cuarto Delirio | Fourth Delirium
Quinto Delirio | Fifth Delirium
Sexto Delirio | Sixth Delirium
Séptimo Delirio | Seventh Delirium
Another bilingual poem: Misery
Untold story of an aching soul deserted to the void
Untitled poem
Poema blackout
Extract of an essay: Rhizome
Broadway Enthusiast Catalog: Waitress The Musical