A. Barahona

I’ve felt the fiction of symbolic acts shape the tears I own. It feels like every eye twitch towards stimulus that I’ve ever performed has shaped the monolith I call self. In cumbersome mornings I see a man that feels like every act he ever committed is written in a dead tongue. In due time this man finds out the meaning of the jargon. He always expects a prophecy, a good omen, a ever-blossoming benediction. The glyphs are past actions written for future eyes only.

Since I was a little boy I always dreamt of a figure of intense warm and happiness within my dreams. She has taken multiple forms, ages, and voice tones, but God knows I'm speaking truth when I say she's always been tender. A silent meadow of a woman. If I recall correctly she had first appeared in my mind at three years of age, I remember vividly her pale and slow moving fingers being waived inches away from my face.

Hay cierta tranquilidad en la percepción de preceptos universales que no combaten con el tiempo, el espacio o la memoria. La palabra destino es pesada ya que pesada también es la explicación consecutiva del todo como parte de engranajes vivos. Lo trascendental tiende a ser borroso, no claro, metafórico.