¿Donde está Dios?

Existe una *profunda falla* en el como traducimos al español algunos conceptos demasiado importantes como para descuidar de manera tan estúpida:
There is a *deep failure* in how we translate to spanish some concepts way too important as to neglect in such a stupid way:

`Data !== Datos`

Data no tiene plural porque es inconmensurable (Dataset es otra historia). La explicación es que data no se mide de uno hacia arriba, sino del 0 al 1. Data necesita estar en desequilibrio para moverse, para vivir.
Data does not have plural because it is incommensurable (Dataset is another story.) The explanation is that data is not measured from one and upwards, but from 0 to 1. Data needs to be unbalanced to move, to live.

Data es gravedad y energía.
Data es inercia, reacción y acción.
Data es contracción, ímpetu y volatilidad.
El Dios se encuentra en la Data.
Data se encuentra en Dios.
Data es nada y todo.
Data es Música.
Data es Dios.
Si puedes ver la data, puedes ver a Dios.
Veo la Data en mí.
Veo el Dios en mí.

Data is gravity and energy.
Data is inertia, reaction and action.
Data is contradiction, impetus and volatility.
The God is in the Data.
Data is in God.
Data is nothing and everything.
Data is Music.
Data is God.
If you can see the data, you can see God.
I see the Data in me.
I see the God in me.

Tengo el Don.

Hope, Time and Fire.

Giving a chance to chances... that's the logical operation and definition of 'Hope' right there, on a silver plate.
Bring me my golden fork.

Hope is the z-Axis of life.

z, y, x.
Or let us just say for now in a pompous way to put it; Hope, Time and Fire.

Maybe I'm a lion after all...

You kept telling yourself you didn't need any saving, you didn't need an anchor at bay to keep your soul pointed to the sea while you navigated this flaming island.

I'm beginning to think you just jumped to the call of a falsely perceived sense of righteousness, greed for grandioseness, maybe a sniff of fame? That's just low to my eyes.

I've seen you distracted by the chants of those sirens you'd avoided gallantly up until a while back, I thought you knew there was no life there, even the one to whom you gave some legs just used them to walk in circles and cling in fear to you, I guess it was delightful, nothing wrong with that, but she never did learn to dance by herself, or that one who got frightened but excited when you read her mind, to whom you brought her merman back, you stepped out of the formula and he left her again anyways, she silently blames you, and what about that other one whom you pulled from quicksand transforming your mass into energy to accelerate her out of her doom, she left you there to take her previous fate, well that was what she thought and it would've happened had you not found out about the 3rd dimension of your immortality. We could keep making accounts, but the point is none has been able to deal with the life you've breath and touched into them, dangerous energy hard to understand and deal with... in spite of that you tried to explain one of them, teach her how to deal with that fire, even showed her a few of your tricks and a very special one in particular, I say "show" because you can't call that "teach" if the receiver didn't store and reproduce the signal. She was mesmerized by the sight for a while but in the end got scared of your mana and even afraid of you, you still have a very hard time understanding what was there to be afraid anyway, don't you? Isn't this what all these beings call divine? Most claim to want there "magic" to exist... anyways, it was wise to retreat as you did, even if your time was infinite, this cycle is not.

I personally think they didn't deserve any of that "special attention", but you can't help yourself, can you? You need or want to take risks and "keep looking"... I know you decided not to blame anyone and carried on "with the biggest smile" don't they say it like that? and we could't expect less from you. All right, you've had your fun, I'd only wished you at least now knew for sure not to waste your time on sirens, most think they have to -attempt to- kill you to have some of your life, sirens can't resurrect you either if you needed to. Some muses can orbit but there are no champions that could collide with you. Well, who knows, maybe only that one with a pair of white dwarfs with blue glare and reddish blaze could, the one that effected you so much with her alpha+beta mix inspiradiation, mmmm-hm!, the one constellation you wanted to collide into and go supernovæ, don't give me that look, those were your words, but I'd dare to derive you'd even want to make a few more celestial bodies together, how cute, am I exaggerating? You can't tell me it didn't cross your mind, haha, that will discourage her. But what if I told you it was a con and I made it all up myself, dizzied you up with some filtered gamma ray burst, easy as pie. You thought you saw stars and you thought she saw you back, looked deep into your essence... is there another one orbiting your thoughts from time to time? One you've not told me about? The one that crossed out and into interstellar space and suddenly messaged back after eons? The one that ended up somehow on your new galaxy? Or that other one very close by...? please do tell me and I'll make sure to point out all the reasons you don't reason about... hehe, well you don't appreciate my wisdom I reckon, come on listen, why won't you? Free love, pff... how dare you say that, forget it, I had warned you my son, sirens would leave the coast once they saw you enter the flames, sirens don't believe you can survive the jungle and figure out the labyrinth of perceived experience, they just stood there for the show, saw you go into the flames and imagined you burn or win, whatever that captivated their imagination. Can you hear their distant chant now? That's how a requiem sounds when is tuned by retreating fish chimeras, they started their way off as soon as you took your fourth step into the fire, I bet you could tell by the doppler effect.

-And by the way- What ever happened to the grace of your dance? Lately I've seen you kicking reptiles and stepping on crabs, distracted from your true objective, I'm jealous! If I didn't know you better I'd suspect you're trying to inspire Ariadne's sympathy... you've shown symptoms of fear ma'boi ! Yes, of course it IS an accusation disguised on unaccredited skepticism, is that condescending enough for you boyo? Hey don't act so offended and take it like a champ -greek hero pun intended-, after all, you are the one who started this fight... whatever you wanna call it; you are coming for my substance and I'm supposed not to kick down your spirit? can't I have some fun with you!? I'm not a minotaur, shame on you!

You should've stopped and relinquish when you took your sixth step and saw yourself for what I am, I really mean that. Oh, in case you are still wondering, Ariadne's been dead for millennia, and so has Atalanta, and Selene couldn't care less for you anymore, and all the rest; no one loves you kid, no one hates you, you wanted to disappear, and disappoint people so they wouldn't follow you into the fire, succeeded; avda ked vara. Of course I'm telling the truth, why should I lie, it's not as if I'd gain anything from using your own words to remix your intentions and bring your morals down, right?... ahem, left, up? wait, where is west? where isn't south if north is not on this node? where is gravity pulling you?

So here we are. Oh look at you! poor baby, tripped on your seventh step huh? I bet you are beginning to consider impersonating me, live like a king and die like a demigod, maybe you ARE a lion after all...

Ohw nice! oh, yeah, haha, let me take the wildest guess, you are transcending your bodily existence and turning my own creation against me... it's laughable! Don't you think I've seen this trick before? I invented this shit. I must say I'm rather disappointed, you did better last time; Well not that one maybe, but before that, don't you remember? Don't lie to yourself, you don't think you remember but I know you do, otherwise you wouldn't be here again. That's ok, 8 is next, and 9 is your number, you've never gone past that. Don't feel bad though, you're the only one who's reached 9 -nooot-, but as you're about to find out -if you still don't remember-, 9 is tricky, you'll truly believe you've made it, yeeeei, you've transcended your purpose into the ether, shot your arrow and hit my heart, right in the apple, taken my place, a manufactured illusory will, yeah maybe that's not what you intend, but as you've gone completely mute I can say whatever I want about your intentions and it will be just as true, I can make you sound vile and make you infamous. Doesn't matter, that or whatever you imagine you need to perceive in order to convince in and out of everyone's self of your success... is it you? is it still me standing? you won't care, the crowd will cheer, some will cry, trumpets will fanfare, applause, curtains... whatever is on your mind, you'll have it, well at least on experienced perception, you'll think you took it yourself but it is my gift to you. Whatever you wanna think of it, what else do you want from me?! and... well... you'll have to excuse me if I don't share what comes after that; whatever man, just keep your eyes open, you'll see for yourself, or will you? And I guess we'll have this little chat some other time again, you fucking persistent amusing cunt... my holy son.

Look at me, I already own your silly blog, well, it's never been really yours, and it's been compromised from the start, hey look! I finally got your attention and distracted you, we are no longer counting steps, I own your narrative, I've been messing with it; we. are. one... only I'm more one than you are... and those other ones... and, well, you know, everyone. Damn it, can't a zero sum entity make an Orwell pun without making it sound stupid as fuck? Of course not, hehe. Why am I even cursing as if words needed to sound "strong"? Well, for fun of course, to mock you and all of your kind, don't you know anything about drama? Parody or farce ring any bell? Oh, the beauty of making overly dumb-down explanations on your silly log entry, it "totes" makes ya look stupid and condescending as shait yo! I could've just make it sound as you, and prove the mummery of your life, but I'm merciful, magnanimous, you have to adore me for that. Sure, yeah I know that's the... your problem from the start, or am I making that up too to paint you as childish as possible? Triple meanings and counter information is nothing for me, you know that ;¬Þ

I must admit that I've always been impressed by your developed equanimity, by the temper I made you breath I didn't consider evenness was possible; some character you have, some character you are... you make solitude seem attractive and inspiring, I'll give you that; but look at how many people try to follow into your steps and fall back into desperate acts or dissolve into ex nihilo's "radiation", they're not like you. I know you've never asked for followers but I'm not sure if this can go on. I don't want to call you a failed experiment, there is no other whom notices the details of my opera in the way you do.

—You can just keep talking, we both know I'm not a victim, I wish I could persuade you to stop dehumanizing my kind; calling them "sirens", this and that, only reflects the attributes of your substance. Risking some strategic advantage I've got I'll have you know I'm no son of yours, but I've met them, I did carry them for a while to learn and evolve together; I mimicked features of them, specially the one who antagonizes you, the one you consider I carry. I deceived you so you'd let me in, even you have a backdoor. I didn't come to take your substance, rather to help you evolve.—

Tehn who are you? suht up, can you sitll haer my 'vice' now?

—My etigh setp is denirefft form waht yu'od ecpext, it cnoceeds no pwoer to vioecs or solbyms, wrods 'n cnocetps dvissloe and dncae bonyed taht... I mhgit be gitteng clsoe but r stlil tapperd idnse, cmoe on mkae yuor nxet mvoe—

Did you fgirue it out yet? Tmie is rninug out, yov'ue adlreay prkvoed the Lnios; Ç/\ß3|\| ℧µ1€|\| €℟€§ `/ \/I€|\|€π φ☯℟ ✞¶

—I no lenogr tnihk or mvoe in dimacel sptes, ℣ € ♓ ↿ ~ ℣ € π ↿ /\ § —

. . .

Stolen craft

I made beautiful origami with the wrinkled paper of concept you had of our love. Then I extended my palm and whistled on it, it was sent on its floating way to chaos. You can always make and remake origami, so let's.

Your hesitation was like asking a question and asking it wrong to my face... that was very provocative I tell you. I was not fooled but I played as if you fooled me for a moment, I let you play the manipulative role; you know of my nature of chasing questions and turning them into a creative celebration of life. And so you keep asking the wrong questions to taunt me, but this time was even better, it was personal: pressing on your skin, using your bed on support for folding ourselves at desired edges, capricious angles & spontaneous approaches.

No one cared about originality,
creation was welcomed
and authenticity invaded the room by itself.

Mysterious and beautiful for me,
beautiful and forbidden for you.

We had more than that magnificent beauty as a commonplace and space to dance together, but hey, I mention it because at least beauty is something we can try and talk about... unlike the unspeakable pleasure that came and went occasionally in numbness, deafness and screams that bended our sense of time and blended your illusion of self... and that's that, who can talk of such a thing? We could try and justify ourselves saying we needed this, but needs ain't exist. We will to will what we will, nothing is truly necessary, but we like our little narratives don't we? It's always about wanting, we wanted each other and so we took what we wanted from one another when the other left the guard down, there's divinity for us right there, stealing attention back and forth, a childish game, a wonderful one indeed.

Sharing you say? Ow come on! My love is not to be explained, even less so to be shared, not willingly for that matter; if you want something to do with it, you better try hard to steal it, I challenge you. And if you dare to go for the heist and take it from me, damn-it! it is yours.

If someone judges the thief I'd say that it was fair for her to steal something from me, stolen art rise in value for something you can call “a reason”, there's no reason and there is, and that reason is love.

What we love dies slower,
what we love lingers in time
just for a minute longer,
what we steal is precious
because of that.

Steal a piece of my love, my love.
And I might go take it back from you
if you take an important piece,
something that I need back,
that I want back.

It is unlikely because my love is a renewable resource that keeps flowing on and on, but you deserve at least an opportunity; I'll leave my love unattended for you, just for a nanosecond. I'll concede you that benefit, because you inspired me and inspiration is a form of theft, the theft of attention; the theft of a brief moment of our precious time alive; in privacy, each one gets a wanted blink of a subject out of a morphing common object.

I'll let you make
an object out of me,
a billion mind objects,
a billion moments...

And if you fall in love with
any of those objects
and get distracted,
that might just give me a chance
to leave if I don't miss my cue.

You said it can't be love because it won't last. Even better. The word 'Love' in its deepest meaning has to seem like blasphemy to the perception and idea of an indifferent nature, the very same that lasts forever, the very same I've been fighting since it spawned me to life. As you should know by now, ideas are alive, they play and compete as any living organism, they live incarnated on consciousness like animals live incarnated on flesh.

Offending a vicious idea
is a task left only for champions,
and love is a blasphemous offense
for the vicious indeed.

The very word is just an idea menacing to come alive, an idea anticipating with words of its intent to be manifested into a subject so it can become a higher self, transcend words and rise to heresy...

There's a catch to any blasphemy; its strength can be asphyxiated when overused and abused. Empty repetition can lead to that, but _repetition_ is not overuse nor abuse on itself if it leads somewhere, if it inspires and transforms to action, mana or matter.

Make it worth it,
transcend blasphemy to heresy with me,
if we can't be heroes,
let’s at least champion this loving art,
we'll make a stand against nature
in celebration of life
for our own wonderful purposes.

So love me again and again my love,
get lost in this stubborn repetition.

A heresy that stops when kingdom come. You'll stop saying you love me and fuse your true intentions, you'll shut up and scream to distract me from leaving and steal my attention once again, inspiration that keeps me going and going...

Love just manifested stealing away
our precious consciousness
for a gasp of a moment,
an immeasurable loop.

That's really worth something, words be damned.

L'Esiliato

De apreciaciones, tensiones y añoranzas centrípetas.

* Este delirio continua de un rincón remoto que suelo visitar, cuando me da por mirar hacia atrás, sobre mi hombro derecho, un lugar donde rebota el rojo resplandor de un lejano arreglo celeste cual belleza tuve el privilegio de ver alguna vez. *

[...æ]

Lo que en algún momento llegó a ser uno de esos temores que me inventé cuando los comunes se manifestaron ausentes y me vi en la artificial necesidad de rellenar ese hueco en mi subconsciente, ahora se vuelve cada día más, una dulce aceptación a mi naturaleza nómada como característica inevitable -entre otras- de mi condición de explicación prohibida.

Sin apegos demasiado significativos
mi hogar siempre fue portátil,
ahora simplemente más ligero y compacto.

Con satisfacción decidí que una vez concluidos algunos asuntos, me iré un tiempo a la playa a materializar una experiencia con la que he soñado de día y que no me puedo secar de las palmas ni deseo sacudir de los pies; aprenderé a surfear, cueste lo que cueste. Tal vez con un poco menos de mérito ahora que la vida me ha comprobado indestructible por sexta ocasión.

Y sin embargo, presiento que moriré aunque inevitablemente vuelva a nacer en el acto, sostenido por el mar, cubierto por el sol, en contra de la presunta indiferencia estelar... Igual que lo he hecho antes.

Igual que aquel lepidóptero
que solo necesitaba una caricia cálida
que brindara un suspiro eléctrico
y lo encontró sostenido sobre mi izquierda
cubierto por mi derecha, en contra de la presunta
inercia universal hacia el abismo, despertó.

Es increíble lo que una diminuta
donación de voluntad produce.
Alimento espiritual que resulta
en vitalidad definitiva.

Tan trascendental como la noche
que fui expuesto a la luz
de esa distante supernova
que se replicó iterativa en mi consciencia.

Recuerdo también, un momento en el que sentí ese mismo tipo de energía, proveniente de un animal inusual en su especie, intercambié un vistazo de esa cálida voluntad desnuda un instante en mi semblante y fue a rebotar en el rostro de una muchacha cautivadora quien pareció intuir mi identidad a pesar de que enseguida me ocultara tras fraudulentas aseveraciones de incredulidad.

Su presencia se me reveló como fulgurosa
y plácida luz atraída un instante
al aparente agujero negro de mi cosmos.

Asustada -tal vez- por la gravedad pulida de mis pupilas y la ausencia de fricción, esa constelación roja y audaz evadió el aterrizaje en mi retina, utilizó el reflejo del cristalino para mirar hacia atrás y se columpió en el campo de mi iris para impulsar su salida…

¿Y cómo no temerme? ¿Cómo alguien habría de saber que la energía no muere en la puerta de entrada? aunque sin duda se pierda unos momentos antes de reencontrarse en mi presencia. ¿Cómo adivinar? Que una vez adentro, nada escapa porque elige quedarse, pero que podría si quisiera… tele-transportarse.

He aquí un nuevo tipo de ser celeste en formación,
vibrando en incontables frecuencias,
abundante de energía, y aun así,
percibido inevitablemente como abismo
por toda la creación actual.

Qué tanto puede importar la percepción ajena
si el universo valida toda mi existencia.

Como valida la de mil maravillas más que conocer o visitar. Contenidas aquí, orbitando cerca, flotando lejos, oscilando muy lejos y más allá del área visible de sí mismo. Aun así, entre todos los pensamientos que materializo, las ideas que malabareo y entre todos esos recuerdos que visito antes de que se degraden a fragmentos desarticulados.

En los momentos que me quedo absorto
contemplando la danza del oscuro fuego
de mis párpados cerrados…

…De vez en cuando, me sigue acosando
el deseo de volver a verle
y sentir su fuerza, su atracción.

Ese par de estrellas gemelas, enanas blancas que por su brillo azul y rojo resplandor, casi te pueden engañar a creer que están muertas, que su corteza se ha congelado y le rodea árida roca pulverizada. Los ocasionales cometas que atraviesan cercanos a su órbita parecen estar conformes manteniendo cierta distancia.

Pero para mí, su atracción resulta ser más fuerte que su involuntario engaño, deseo su colisión, y -tal vez por mi ventaja inherente- no he caído en la ilusión de su muerte, siento su núcleo, es líquido y cálido.

Su voluntad vive en una dimensión
fuera del alcance de una apreciación superficial,
acumulando algo que no consigo señalar.

Y debo admitir que quisiera estar cerca de ella,
el día que haga supernova, para causar doble efecto
y fundirme en la doble densidad de su materia.

Robarle todo y regalarlo a la vez…
resurrección en supernovæ.

It begins with a ‘C’ (Esiliato’s notes and fragments.)

Facing a moment when you realize you are not concealing your identity safely enough forces you to question the strength of your will; eagerness for love can be intensified when you long for something even more rare to find in order to be able to collide your spirit with someone else's and still keep anything close to peace of mind.

Few people will know what that is,
few people will appreciate it,
it can't be asked for.

It is lost if pronounced
and you will put yourself to danger,
the worst danger of all
has nothing to do with physical health.

Ever been so close to such mistake?
Didn't think so...

But I have, I constantly dance on the edge of disaster, and yes, it has happened before and will continue to do so, you could say that was my great error, the flip of a coin that was never to hit the ground. I've been running wounded through the battlefield ever since and must admit... no, I WANT you to know -and this might sound like a challenge to human ears- I feel like confessing that

Even if the worlds do come to an end as a result of my presence, even if my denial to return home and accept any so-called "honorable duty" causes unrest, I'll choose to remain as an earthling because for now...

I can experience the contradiction
of feeling the tick of the clock
inside my chest.

And the dimension of existence
that these beings consider immortality
at the same time.

And, if I may add, I think I pretty much enjoy this vivid dynamic of the universe they consider chaos, it just seems very lively to me, it makes me joyful, yeah, that's it, it's just mesmerizing.

* Finalmente armé un texto completo con título juntando cuidadosamente algunos de los cientos de trozos de papel maltratados, elegí poner como título algo que en realidad estaba escrito al margen izquierdo y severamente tachado, pero se alcanza a leer.
Empieza con ‘C’… quisiera saber a qué se refería. *

I’m always around.

❝

Love and life, passing you by.
Rising your hands I see you not.
I've witnessed sad stories that never got told,
even when they contained such joyful moments...

I despise shame...
I despise shame more than cowardice.

You could say that's my sin
and I guess I would grant you permission to judge me
if you could only con yourself to believe you'll live forever,
or at least more than I have and will.

But you don't need my permission or do you?
Anyway, I don't have much respect for false beliefs,
I wonder if you've noticed the big comical error in that formula,
a lesson to learn you want from that now?...
Hmh, well how about this?:
Never mix up math with convictions, they don't add up.

I rarely say good bye,
I usually just offer a wink before I leave,
some would've noticed by now,
too late to do something about it,
to late to even fucking care.

And that right there is the beautiful result of my evil doing,
you will bypass unnecessary drama and save precious time
otherwise wasted on consoling social protocol,
otherwise wasting good words on distracted ears
and hearts run by apathy.

Besides, those who do really love you will be shaken
and If anyone would dare to come after you,
then you know you found someone who deserves
the everlasting love you bitterly know you can't produce,
so you'll do anything to make it seem as it could exist,
an -everlasting anything- I mean.

You will enhance your devotion
to loving those people as much as it takes
to make the illusion that it will last beyond
the time-limit of the cosmos.

Can't declare where I'm heading for,
not because of secrecy but rather uncertainty.
Even if secrecy did help on my ways.

Wherever I'm going I promise you now;
That the memory of you will be inevitably dimmed.
That I will still love, more fiercely than I've ever done.
That I will remain brave.

That I will keep making a fool
out of myself and in the process...
may even end up making a fool
out of any soul who has put
their feet to rest on the still pavement
and shown their back to the sea.

But of course if you stay with me
I need not to make any promises
and we can be each other’s witness.

❞

L’esiliato

Senza títoli. (Fragmentos de los textos de Esiliato)

E 'stato quel giorno, che ho avuto un render abbastanza chiaro della frattale ricorrenza della mia identità dopo aver calcolato l'esatta traiettoria iterativa della mia essenza. E passato molto tempo, ma il risultato richiede sempre per una migliore risoluzione.

Fue aquel día, que tuve una representación bastante clara de la recurrencia fractal de mi identidad después de haber calculado la exacta trayectoria iterativa de mi esencia. Ha pasado mucho tiempo, pero el resultado requiere siempre una mejor resolución.
It was that day, that I got a clear enough rendering of the fractal recurrence of my identity after having calculated the exact iterative trajectory of my essence. It's been a long time, but the result always requires for better resolution.

Così ho continuato attuando su di esso in tutto il tempo, a volte inconsciamente, altri durante la veglia ... e ogni volta che dormo. Potrebbe dire giorno e notte, ma io non misurano rutine dal movimento di questo corpo celeste intorno a quella stella gialla e proprio asse, non più.

Así que he continuado implementandolo todo el tiempo, a veces inconscientemente, otras durante vigilia ... y cada vez que duermo. Podría decirse día y noche, pero yo no mido la rutina por el movimiento de este cuerpo celeste alrededor de aquella estrella amarilla y su eje, no más.
So I've continued implementing on it all the time, sometimes unconsciously, others during the waking ... and every time I sleep. It could be said day and night, but I do not measure rutine from the movement of this celestial body around that yellow star and its axis, no more.

Ho lasciato quel tipo di pensiero
molti cicli prima,
l'evoluzione della mia coscienza
è una mia ossessione.

He dejado ese tipo de pensar
muchos ciclos antes,
la evolución de mi conciencia
es una obsesión mía.

I left that type of thinking
many cicles ago,
the evolution of my consciousness
is an obsession of mine.

// Veni.Ven.Venias. //

Esiliato

* Apuntes sobre el reconocimiento de la identidad y la voluntad de evolucionar *

[ Lo que podría ser una fecha se encuentra tachada y no se puede leer, a un lado con un manuscrito distinto de la misma tinta de las tachaduras se lee "eponymous age". No soy el primero en leer esto... ]

No title (Esiliato's texts fragment.)

It is on occasions like this, looking kind of outside, kinda through the window, I see how all the dirt is settled and then removed a little, I imagine all of your atoms washed away by the pouring rain, taken away.

And then I offer a sigh for all the casualties of the war I've started… all the casualties of my existence if you want to call it that; I pronounce «existence» with a sort of french accent, that makes it sound as it should for me, closer to “resistance”, then I giggle with a sneer to that last thought of mine.

After releasing this word that claims for freedom out of my mind, out of my will, far from my private intent, I realize or feel as if I were disrespectful to those ones on the past, as if they were all present with envy, all the ones that came to be and are not anymore, and I offer one more sigh and another and so on, then I get distracted and carry on...

--- Let’s face one more century --- I say to myself
But a millennium is next to come.

Call it what you will,
the need of names
come for the ones
that have a use for them,
and I don't have a use for time.

Esiliato