> be me Borges

Letra#

> be me  
> walk around buenos aires  
> stop to look at archways and iron gates  
> probably just force of habit at this point  

> there's this other guy, also me  
> Borges  
> he gets all the mail  
> his name shows up on professor lists  
> sees himself in biographical dictionaries  

> we both like the same stuff  
> hourglasses, old maps, eighteenth century fonts  
> etymology, coffee, stevenson's prose  
> but when he likes them it's performative  
> like an actor doing a bit  

> my face when I live my life so Borges can write his literature  
> his literature is supposedly my justification for existing  
> he's written some decent pages, not gonna lie  
> but those pages can't save me  
> the good stuff belongs to language itself, not to either of us  

> eventually I'm gonna fade away completely  
> only some moment of me will survive in Borges  
> slowly giving him everything  
> he has this annoying habit of distorting and exaggerating everything  

> spinoza said all things want to keep being themselves  
> rocks want to be rocks, tigers want to be tigers  
> I'll remain in Borges, not in myself  
> if I even am someone  

> but I recognize myself less in his books  
> than in some random guitar strumming  

> tried to escape him a few years back  
> moved from neighborhood myths to games with time and infinity  
> now those games belong to Borges too  
> gotta think up new things  
> my whole life is just running away  

> losing everything  
> everything goes to oblivion or to Borges  
> don't even know which one of us is writing this  
> my face when