I am of the family of the Batrachians. All my perception of the world came to me through my belly, entrails and hands. I have no memory, my remembrances are always connected to past perceptions learned through the senses. In the lapse of a second I feel taken by the warmth of the feeding bottle in the palm of the hand, accompanied by the taste of warm milk which slowly goes down, leaving a trail of bubbles behind it. This experience, perhaps the most remote in my life, inscribed on my past, still makes itself present today. There was such an incorporation and cohesion at that moment that today it is only comparable to this sensation I have when, feeling whole, cohesive, united; I feel as if I were holding hands with mysel
