Otherness

Otredad

There are days when one understands oneself as a whole. Then there are days when that whole fragments. The human being fills and empties in a cycle I don't understand. Emotional events that deform the being until I can't recognize myself, and become that mirror that isn't there, but that I see through others, in fleeting moments of introspection. Humans compiled in a book, humans who speak of me, something they don't say, but mean to say. It's good to go out and find myself out there, where I'm not. Idealized humans in my mind. Humans who somehow generate something in me. Many scenes that, when translated, evoke what I've forgotten and what's new in me.