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I no longer remember myself—not in images, not even in photographs. Memory is delicate, and forgetting is unavoidable. 2026-09-22 13 minutes.
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Overview

What weight do the images hold, the ones whose stories we’ve all forgotten? I am the image of myself I can’t recall, a place where my identity cannot rest and my soul cannot stay. Like a couple of blurry photos that don’t fully belong to me, even when there is proof that I was here.

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Language Español