My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. And if I said I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying, because I was born to be the other woman. Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone. Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me. var sc_project=7964168; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="47533e29";
Rafael Alberti, tr. by Ben Belitt, from An Anthology of Spanish Poetry: From the Beginnings to the Present Day, Including Both Spain and Spanish America; "Paradise Lost"
[Text ID: āAcross centuries / and the void of a world, / sleepless, I seek you.ā]