I have this certainty that space, for a being like me, is naturally limited. There can be no other reason why I am constantly being forced to move in a certain direction, and then forced to turn or twist or remain in line. In order for me to continue existing in here is because regardless of the time that is required for me to be here, I am moving along something calibrated in such a way that forces my space to be limited

...the shape that I am actually forming on the page as I follow the path and place each word in front of the other understanding that avoiding myself is in my nature, and therefore, I am uncapable of looking at myself, unable to contemplate myself, forced completely to contemplate exclusively the path that I am following: The one that carefully winds and twists and turns

"... What holds this piece together? is it being contained inside a circle? Is it the fact that it is made using words, phrases which evoque feelings; invoke actions..."

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"I am somehow forced to go back to be this that I am: a series of words that unavoidably keep on moving forward, generating a certain amount of meaning, while travelling across the available space"

"I am alive; briefly or not it does not matter; for how long it does not matter; since when is unimportant; the only relevant fact being that I am existing now, in this peculiar and unique shape and form"

...because I believe I am an independent inside this space; and yet, I remain constrained by its shape and form, which forces me to switch directions in order to move forward. Otherwise, I would have ended by now, but I should have a purpose, then, for being able to occupy the space within this text. What can my purpose possibly be? Is it to be another independent phrase?...

"Inicio, sabiendo que debo continuar siempre hacia el frente y hasta el instante en el cual el texto se desdoble" / "Start, knowing that I must continue moving towards the front and up until the instant in which the text unfolds"

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"I examine carefully each word as it is placed on top of the page and as I go over each one I contunually reaffirm that the words seem unchanged"

"Now you can ask me... why is this relevant? And I can simply state that it is not; so why is it that you are still reading the text? why is it that you are here too? to entertain yourself? seek knowledge, wisdom, peace of mind, hope, maybe?

There is a reader, there was a writer, there is a text, coexisting here together, for a brief space of time, moving forward, possibly guided by a performer, in another dimension

¿Qué debería revelarte si quisiera mostrarte un secreto? / What should I reveal if I wanted to show you a secret?

¿Cómo es que llegamos hasta este momento, en el cual avanzamos juntos sobre de palabras que forman distintas composiciones? ¿Qué nos trajo aquí? ¿La curiosidad, el miedo? ¿La frase previa? / How is it that we arrived to this moment, in which we advance together on top of words that form different compositions? What brought us here? Curiosity, fear? The previous phrase?

And if there is no center, is it fair to say that all the words written on the page are actually written on the edge of the text; regardless of their position within the page? I guess a natural conclusion could be that inside an infiniite loop, the center lies everywhere; and therefore, one is constantly placed in its own center, regardless of its position or direction

Al concluir el texto, del texto no quedará más que breves recuerdos; imagenes instantáneas y luego el olvido. / When the text is over, from the text nothing will remain but brief rememberings; instantaneous images and afterwards oblivion

What will we do after it is over? Will we remember each other and what would we remember and how will we remember it will never resemble the present state of the composition, as you carry it forward, understanding each one of its sentences, ceasing to be whatever it is that you constantly are, to become whatever it is that is us, right now, as we flow along together through the composition

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If I was to write about myself I would rather let the Algorithm do it for me. The Algorithm knows better who I am, what I am doing, where I have been, who is it that I interact with and who shall I become. It also writes with better style… and a much more extensive vocabulary than mine; it reserves my copyright and uses my personal font too!