Reflections

Writing alternative realities

Turning up the voltage on life

Writing in spite of the conditions

Seeds planted in the ground soil of memory

I reached the neurotic finale of The Brothers Karamazov on a neon-lit park bench at night in Guayaquil in Ecuador.

Justice was really an ashtray to display / the lynched carcass of a stubbed-out cigar.

Entering the interior life of historical figures

Constructing painful experiences to bring about a repair of the self

The power of those mini midnight movies

A writer who inspired me

In communion with the empty city.

There must be a mention of baingan roasting on a naked flame.