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