A short hundred-word long biography is welcoming of song. With some pain, I too have realized to be short to the eyes of some. But not of all. Hereby enlisting words resonant with my identity —as if it was easy to hold, to capture. Performing as an expert in cognitive “neuro” stuff.  

A life turned into institutional facts: A degree, another one, yet a third. A doctor, publications, meaningless credentials.

What follows?

Artifices for a bearable life. But is there space for crude heartedness?

When studying the lived body is framing what is meant to escape.