Un cuerpo agotado

I tried to take refuge in a room of about seven square meters, not always in the same city. From it you can see the birds and their nests, also the sunset, never the moon. This place, spread around the world, has in common a window, a mirror, a living plant and these bones. Different views, plants and mirrors, but always the same home: my body. This has less to do with form than with substance: with a soul tired of fighting against several ruthless armies entrenched within it. From my. Against an obscenely evil and timidly kind world, against the inability to love and care; against fear, which is what breaks everything. I curled up into a ball until I could open my eyes. I crawled until I was able to walk. Getting up was already a revolution. This book is almost a miracle.