personal journal
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At Sea
Some days ago I was in such a grave state that I could see people’s skeletons through their body.My grief was such that I dropped my own temperature. I even blamed it on an unknown ghostly presence. I felt the ancient hand of the first grim reaper firmly holding my left ankle, ready to pull…
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Another Such Day
Rising, the volcano ashes, the sea levels, the fog in a dreaded morning walk. I can smell each of the season’s stereotypes. The public’s chatter in the stores, the back and forth of the clerks, the tapping of the cards in the POS.Memory is a spy dressed in black, walking a la pointe becoming undistinguishable…
alone, aloneness, belonging, courage, creative writing, death, Depresion, depression, devil, diary, emptiness, ensayos, escapism, Escapismo, español, fantasy, female diarist, heartbreak, humanity, individuality, introspection, life, loneliness, meaning, memento-mori, musings, nostalgia, personal journal, poem, poetry, self reflection
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L.O.V.E
You have brought back a childhood tender loving care that appears to me was absent every night, there is a vacuum negating joy every step of the way for my little self.I have felt the pitchfork tyranny about four times total since we met. Triggered by my own inadequacy, by the sadness of unbelonging, by…
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Dunas de un Cuerpo
I upset the emotional body and destroy democracy. It all burns an eternal flame. I am seduced by the Dunes that have kissed my neck and hair from morning to dawn. Large still paintings adorning a Hamlet flash memories of women souls whose frames I see randomly walking past me. I saw one of them…
alone, aloneness, Amor, belonging, chile, courage, creative writing, death, Depresion, depression, devil, diary, emptiness, ensayos, escapism, Escapismo, escritores chilenos, español, falling in love, fantasy, female diarist, humanity, individuality, introspection, loneliness, memento-mori, musings, personal journal, poem
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Childhood’s End
The calendar seems stuck in a repeat date. A language glitch prevents diversifying conversation. Monotony sits at the table while the pain of communion drops the temperature. A second cup of coffee and a tea are of no help. Awkwardness settles, honesty dictates what we do next. Chanting this is childhood’s end, we each depart…
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How to Know Whether You Should Leave
I write this as I explore my own pain. I hide and use repetition. I am somewhere that does not welcome growth and reeks of envy. A place stuck in mud. It does not inspire me to be at my best, to express myself through color and style. It instructs you to be like the…
LA MVNDIA 