I AM | YO SOY by Kitailo Feat Concha Buika

I am, I am not, what do I know? I think I am like the queen of North America, but she never was, I did.

I am one…? Do I contain a Self that is …?

How is that question going?

And this I, must take care of Myself … or should I take care of it?

It is not “to be or not to be” I don’t care about that,

I come from a poor house, I never understood the ins and outs of the intellectually well-adjusted mutants, nor did I dream of wanting to be called Madelaine … No, in reality I am me … Marta. I am the Pututi, I am Brad Pitt and I do not know Woody, who is another independent and random Self that at moments it is so immense that it does not find its own ear and other times it is simply another me, although it is always the same and it is called Esther, a strong, wonderful and beautiful woman.

No, I am the one they call Sir William Pelayo as strange as it may sound. I am Pedro Almodovar with the mulatta of the movie … Yes, that mulatta girl who is or has a mutant, I am as almost everyone that believes to be on the path to finding her other Self that is even more true, looking for him in a third hyper lascivious, somewhat picturesque and supposedly behaviorist, while whispering to himself …Yes,

that will be the one who paints but I am the one who counts, always I …

But “always me” is almost the same as “I always,” and I do not believe it when I think about it, but I feel that

“I always” does not really mean anything. Although I honestly do not know.

I am one … I have a me that is …

Am I based on what I have?

And when I have nothing … I am, also?

Can I be nothing and have everything?

I feel that I can live not being at all.

Am I because of what I know or I am because of what I feel?

Because sometimes I do not know what I feel, sometimes I do not feel

what I think I know and sometimes I think, I just do not know what it is to be.

I am from this very cool body that never obeys me and that even then, I must say it is mine.

I swear that this is my very cool body,

Mine of me? … Of my being that I am?

Or mine because my being and my sanity

they really belong to the state

of encouragement or the madness of others? …

My being belongs to others … Yes, I am yours because I love you,

so nobody else can be mine until the day when “whatever” because you and I are one? … Well, I do not understand this but it gives me peace of mind.

I am the sum of all my elements,

the unanimous conspiracy of all my alter-egos

the synthesis of the plan, the script of this prime opera,

the secret component of the formula for the elaboration of the wise, of the blood of this animal that flies and crawls,

laugh and growl, bloom and stop! … ME! ME! ME! … But me,

Am I what I say or am what I do? …

I really was what I remember? …

Sometimes I was thinking in one way I acted in another …

When they ask myself what I was, how do I answer? …

I am confused … I think sometimes I relive my past with who I am now, perhaps I try to be the “I” that was not …

Or I try not to be the Self of my memories and now I do not know how to be because I don’t have myself, maybe

I just pretend it, maybe I did not earn it … Do I deserve it? or is it a universal right …

Noooo … I’m already being …

It’s always me and although I do not always have it,

I am a Self that believes because it thinks or the other way around,

and I contain a Self that knows why it feels or the other way around.

But then are we Self-confused?

And what happened to my being? or those two selves are in my being

which is like a container … How great is my Being.

In the end, I am a Self that is defined based on what I know…

No … I contain a Self that is defined based on what I believe,

no … Aiiiiiii !! … Maybe it’s a Self that believes in defining itself based on what it thinks? if I scream sometimes it’s because I know that I contain a Self that is not defined by what it feels … No … Yes

I am all, in the end, I am everything!

That fat kid who pokes his nose,

that autistic woman who sometimes neither looks nor is scared,

That man who punishes that dog that does not bark, if …

I am also that dog that does not bark and that

model of anything but it is a model, it is also me, because I am what is happening now … Here … I neither belong nor witness what happens … I am what happens!

Am I because I do? … Do I do it because I am?

Should I identify with everything that would be if I could? … Is it that I am what I can?

Or is it that what I am doing is what prevents me from being me? … I mean … Am I the action? …

Am I the thought?

Am I really one of those movie guys?

Sometimes I feel that I am immense with space problems … Within these small bodies condemned to believe themselves to be infinite.

This seems like a world in which we can only fit

and its consequences, Yourself, Myself … Yours and Ourselves

I am that are protagonists who are not egotistical,

I am the monsters that are not scary, I am that are overcome,

Not superior, each and everyone already in procession

back to sanctity, as would do the Queen of North America.

illustration by Ines Glavaš