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Morning at the Window

They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting despondently at area gates.

The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And vanishes along the level of the roofs.

T. S. Eliot, 1888 - 1965

Urbino et orbis

Every one is the other and no one is himself
Heidegger

Epiphany 8

+Cross-i-Fiction+

Breaking the relation between signifiers and signifieds

Caminos y certidumbres

Huyes?
En verdad no te das cuenta que vas a su encuentro
Por más que lo evadas tu camino es cierto

©Ricardo Baez-Duarte

The Night

Ontology and Differance: subsistent entities

Italy-and-myself

Italia-and-myself

Are we brave enough?

Take the red pill
The Matrix

Original man

Original man, who is not mortal, does not anticipate, nor speak, nor work, and has neither skills nor knowledge
Stiegler: Technics and Time

©Ricardo Baez-Duarte

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