Posts

  • El Cruce del Río

    Nací junto al ríoEn una pequeña tienda de campañaOh, y al igual que el río, he estado corriendoDesde entonces—Sam Cooke, “A Change is Gonna Come” Todos mueren y renacen. Esto no es nuevo. La muerte no es algo aterrador, el alma no se daña en absoluto. No hay un riesgo real aquí. La única historia…

  • Women through the eyes of men/Why negotiation is necessary

    A local student at the English school told me that their mother cleans houses for a living. It’s not a profession you dream of having. A mother would not dream of that job for her own child. It implies a lack of options available through economic structure and gender alike. When I hear this as…

  • The Longevity of Skateboarding, the symbolic order, and Resistance of the Real

    The Real vs the Symbolic According to Lacan, the French psychologist, the words we use are part of a symbolic order of reality. When a child is born, they are real. They are a raw part of nature that has no interpretation. Their hunger, their bodily needs, their fears are a part of a raw,…

  • Feminism Updated: The refusal of feminism as entertainment, the exit,  power literacy, lost definition of power

    The last time feminism did anything ‘fun’ and genuinely courageous was the #MeToo movement, which has been almost ten years ago. Since then I found nothing new being uncovered, going online has felt boring and stale and placated. The spirit of feminism is borne from expressing what is impossible to express, to reject the entire…

  • Confessions of a loveless life

    Distraction, distractions. Everywhere distractions to tempt you and waste your time, so you spend less time sitting in the truth. These distractions like bright unnatural lights from storefront windows, beautiful perfect manniquens tempt fantasies of greed and lust and being loved, a fleeting collection of moments of love that don’t connect in retrospect at all.…

  • I asked the river

    I asked the river today why the journey had been so hard. Why did we lose so much? it did not answer for a long time. My feet in the shallow water, the stones covered in moss were warm and soft and difficult. Tender and hard, like stepping on the face of a loved one.…