Deconstruction of the self


Who am I?

Am I this body?

Am I how I look?

Am I my name?

Am I an entity associated to a place in society?

Am I the spacetime I was born in?

Am I my family?

Am I the friends I made and the people I’ve touched?

Am I the education I attended?

Am I the job I have and the jobs I had?

Am I my achievements and my failures?

Am I the choices I made and the ones I didn’t?

Am I the good things and the bad things I did?

Am I my likes and dislikes?

Am I what I love and what I fear?

Am I what I feel and what I think?

Am I my qualities and my flaws?

Am I what I built and what I destroied?

Am I what I did, what I’m doing now and what I’m going to do next?

If you knew all these answers, would you really know me?

Is this enough to know someone or do you need more?

What else do you need?

A DNA sample?

A complete and accurate recording of my life?

Would that be enough?

If you had all of that, would you be able to replicate my life, even in a controlled environment?

Can you make another me?

Would you make another me?

For what purpose?

Would it be the same as my purpose in life? If not, is that still me?

Now ask yourself, who are you?

Is not knowing part of being you?

Is it pointless to ask yourself these questions?

If so why? If not what does it bring?

Are we what society tells us we are?

Is what we are not enough?

Why do we sometimes act differently than who we are?

Is trying to be someone else a part of what we are?

Are we what we believe and what others believe we are?

Are we really in control? And if so, to what extent?

Just curious, that’s all.

Life choices


If you choose to leave, you may never come back.

Who will I be if I stay?

I choose to walk.

Do you want to be a stray?

I never follow the flock,

be that as it may.

If you choose to love, you may never be loved back.

Who will I be if I don’t try?

I will take my luck, who knows… lightning may struck

So you choose to suffer and cry?

I won’t keep my heart under a lock,

I may crash before I fly.

If you choose to take a chance, you may lose everything.

Who will I be if I don’t dare?

I pull each string, do my own thing.

So you really don’t care?

I may brake a string, I may loose a wing,

I accept what life may bring.

You talk like a guy who’s high.

Why do you always try to defy?

I am high, I reach for the sky.

I choose to live before I die.


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I have…

I have a cureless malady,

A painless agony,

A meticulous disassembly, of my mental tapestry

What’s happening to me?

Am I going crazy?

I have…

I have a Melody stuck in my mind,

A tune which makes my thoughts unwind,

A vibe only to my heart confined

I have a cureless malady,

A real fantasy,

A feeling alchemy,

A happy tragedy for which I want no remedy

I have a Melody stuck in my mind

A malady just for me designed

Holding a figmental hand


How can you miss somebody you never had before?

How can you have someone you don’t miss anymore?

What is it that makes you smile?

Who is the desert to your Nile?

What is it that makes you frown?

Who is the king to your crown?

How can you die without ever have lived?

How can you wake up without ever have dreamed?

Who makes your hearth vibrate?

What is it that makes you culminate?

Who can bring clouds to your sky?

What can make you laugh after your cry?

These are the questions that take me beyond

Making it possible to hold your figmental hand