[Falcao]

I read in some paper, years ago, that hell was meticulously shaped with eyes occupied in looking. The phrase, then, was neither from Borges nor from Sábato nor from Sartre not mine. As for me, for years I learned the art of shaving by tact, to avoid the opinion of the mirror, to come to work without the weight of another depression. It is that my image - you show that to me - advances, since time ago, separated from me. While I remain a teenager, calm, interested in my business, kind and humble by indifference and by the amazing security that there are no answers, it, my face, has aged, has become bitter, and maybe it is counting or inventing histories that are not mine but from it.
-- Juan Carlos Onetti, "My Image and Me" [Mi imagen y yo], translated by truly yours.