Kot

– I –

The both of us were back in Town. You and I. It wasn’t like we left forever or went too far away, but maybe in a sense we did, and now that we are facing each other again I can’t help but realize how

Tell me, 
What happens when your light fades away and your ability for wonderment withers. 
What happens if the only real thing you’ve got in you is apathy and a snarling hollow.

Tell me, 
How do you spark yo

Journeys with my dad were usually quiet in my youth, we used to listen to Luis Costa speak for hours in the recorded mercury of some old cassettes. I believe he was an inspirational speaker, a business man who

Is true that I’ve lied about nearly everything. That I am a long-legged contradiction. But the truth never seemed to be sufficient for you, the brevity in my simplicities bored you, they tasted meager in your

– 1 –

The first time she listened to Nirvana she was nine. It was Heart-Shaped Box.

Her aunt was boiling water in the kitchen, the tv was tuned on MTV, it was summer, and she was doing what kids her age do,

Dialogue precedes them. Their conversation unfurls in a space where voices are neutral. Where their lines are being made by a singular screenwriter, narrated privatly in thoughts. They haven’t spoken yet, they h

You never forget who’s made you and how, it just sticks with you for the entirety of your life.
And one day you figure out – you’ve only been looking for that one replacement – someone to fill in the spot he left

It’s hard to imagine the emotions (or the lack of them) a creature must suffer to walk on the train tracks at midnight, to look straight ahead into a pair of growing lights, hear the iron ruckus coming louder and

You liked to play with the scars on my skin. Your fingers used to doodle them, connect the dots from my cinder arms to the ones on my shoulders. Call them under starry constellations with the initials of your

I still remember when Pancho died, it was the first funeral I went to.
It was fucking tragic, but we were too young to understand the severity of it.
You skipped school for two days and on the second day I

“Tú no pareces darte cuenta de que hay frases, de que hay recuerdos para mi insoportables; de que todas las fibras se rebelan si esas cosas son dichas”
— Julio cortazar.

There’s no right way to tell certain

They think you are not vulnerable, they think you the type that never cries, that your soul is as calloused as your blackened lungs, that your heart is a nerve-ridden block that cannot be tenderized. But they

When did it happen? Do you ever wonder when? Which was the random second, the insidious moment, the awful and disheartening instant in which you realize with a baleful clarity all those things that you are never