Very insightful and emotional ride, @girlbeforethemirror.

Though the length of a day or the weather outside my window, is of little consequence.

We also find out, even if it sounds cliche, that we are of little consequence to the outside.
Home

past ties.
A pondering, a reference, nothing more.

That’s what I thought before I decided I could leave without one. I decided to never return to my hometown, the place I was born in, the house I grew up in, the people I grew up surrounded by. It’s been 3 or 4 years. I stopped counting. And yet, home haunts me. When I search for memories for explanations, for grounding, I see myself in that first sidewalk, those first games, those first friends and adventures, punishments and advices. The litany of street wisdom that was supposed to allow me to survive and become part of a community, either familial or social. Home for me has become more than I can remember, more than I can explain. It’s elusive, blurring, but constant and determining.

How I despise that word. Are you coping?

Coping has become out determining feature here. When we greet in the streets you either get a todo bien—pa’ no entrar en detalles (everything good, to avoid the details) or aguanta’o (holding), which suggests some sort of hanging, which suggests that sooner than later you’ll get tired and fall.
I’m also tired of coping and terrified at the possibility of remaining prisoner of its limiting inevitability.

Something else that seems inevitable/impossible to overcome is the catalogue of shames that have become so ubiquitous, among them

the body shaming that spring sells ahead of summer every year. Are you beach ready?

We have been consuming so much self-hate/conditioning/predisposition we have stopped living for ourselves and now live for others (el que dirán--what they would say).
I loved the –ill ending slamming rhythm you framed it in.

Retrospection is no blessing,

I could not agree more. It is our worst curse, I believe, even when retrospection brings up fond memories, they always come with a regretful longing. If only the energy or “good vibe” of those good memories could linger, if only they could mix the present chemistry and modify the current reactions. But they don’t. they only make us work harder on face- saving.