"This place is curious, this place is a non place. It’s not located in some secret corner of the soul, since there are no secrets; it’s actually devouring the entire inside, projecting itself on the outside… gaining substance, encouraging stings, thirst and hunger all around."
- Natura Principia
In the soul centre of my wicked
intentions there are derelicts of my broken psyche, eyes without a face… rapid tendencies
granting me lapse of memory, seduction in forgetfulness; and this is not
because I’m absent minded, I’m just easily distracted by abstractions of my
objective reality, when most of them never wear any panties. It’s my own fault
that I can be seduced and left beyond repair… then again, I need no corrections,
I’m already guilty enough, I’ve crossed all lines of soul maintenance… to be
more precise, if the apparent line is here, where I sit at this very moment, I’m
somewhere safe, far south of the border, some place nice in sunny Mexico.
All these infidelities gather and nest
in the simplicities of the complexity which I represent, so that I can be left
lost in my own ignorance, only to stand sharp for even more betrayals; and this
is not because I lack loyalty and sense of belonging. It’s my own fault that I can
be easily confused and left amazed in a temporary astonishment for every two
legged personal hell which crosses my route to nowhere, wearing heels and looking just great in a light summer dress.
I should be tortured by these mixed
emotions, by my contradictions in appearances. A sensible human being would say
that I should’ve learned something, but all I’ve learned from these derelicts
of my broken psyche is only to respect that dark part of me… eyes without a