El Lamento de Orfeo

I’ve lost confidence and gained a talent for self-sabotage.

I think this is going to be one of those more visceral entries, where I lay bare a part of myself for whoever wants to read and understand.

Let me emphasize that this experience has much more to do than with the work itself; it forced me to look back.

My family was always willing to finance my education.

When it comes to my presence online, I feel like I move within niches that are already quite small, where my reflections are nothing more than a speck of dust compared to the weight of what others have written long before me.

I think we fall into a fallacy when we conclude that we live without faith.

The word opera, which simply means “artwork,” has been wrapped in all sorts of associations.

Given the premise of this blog, I think I’m going to start posting, as often as it feels relevant, about what’s going on in my life; even when it doesn’t fit a specific theme, just like I’ve been doing.

Recently, I came across a post in the Trending section that stirred something in me, a desire to write, or rather, to reflect upon it.

How strange it feels, after letting someone go, to meet someone new.