The Mirror Window -2

Some time ago I wrote about the mirror and the window
And decided that the internal is as unidentifiable, undecipherable,
immeasurable as the external.

When I use to look into the mirror, I would internalize myself,
I was a part of the image itself.

As I now look into the mirror, after 17 years,
I have more certainty of what I am,
But less understanding of who I am.

My tongue has been cut, my mind suffers the effect
of the routine, which as if like a drug, makes me dull,
makes me loose my shine, my speed, my dexterity, my agility

My feelings are perhaps today more profound,
my ideas more sparse, and maybe,
more violently guarded.

The window persists in showing me what’s obscure, what’s stupid,
What’s doubtful, what’s fake, what’s lamentable, sad.


I fight daily against stupidity, against lying.
It feels me with rage the lack of consideration, of humanity.
It destroys me, the unnecessary suffering, the lack of reason.

When I used to want to be a part of the external,
I used to form myself to that image.
Today I would feel shameful to be a part of that image.
Today, that I am ‘The Institution” myself,
I look for the way to dynamite it’s columns, it’s foundations.

Today I don’t know anymore with such certainty what’s just, what’s right.
Like you and him, I am the prisoner of the word “compromise”,
this word that contains you like inside a used dirty plastic container.

The window, though, is opaced by the vapor of my internal fog,
Infecting in this way the image which is projected on it’s glass.

And in this manner, our internal anxieties cover with a grey veil
The external reality and then it mixes
the exterior with the interior in a reality that is me…(17 years after)
and the certainties evaporate;
What I use to know is only a blurred memory,
The “Great Truths”, only old ideals,
The “Old Lies”, a series of rationalizations



ACD - 12.6.05