LayersofZoe (Page 4)

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The Politics and Ethics of Reproduction

The debate on reproductive rights is often framed through rigid ideological lenses, reducing a profoundly intricate ethical issue to political slogans and legal technicalities. At its core, however, reproduction is not merely a legal or political question—it is an ethical one. Only by addressing the underlying moral dimensions can

The Roman Salute and the Shifting Face of Authoritarianism

Classic fascism emerged as a reaction to instability: economic collapse, national humiliation, and fear of social change. It sought absolute state control, glorified war, and aimed to dissolve the individual into a unified national body. Mussolini’s fascism was rooted in statism and militarism, with the corporate state controlling the

The Circus

There’s a peculiar alchemy in the way complex social issues are transformed into spectacles—a political circus, where nuance is abandoned in favour of hyperbole and division. In Portugal, two pressing topics, the right to health care for non-residents and immigration, have been dragged into the centre ring. Both

Can’t You See?

Part I: The Dream I wait in a clinic, where time drips slow, Limbs heavy as stone, shadows grow. Once I soared—a whisper, a song— Now each move feels jagged, wrong. A stranger calls, his language skewed, Words stumble—his, mine—misconstrued. Monitors blink, a brittle divide, A bridge

The Ceaseless Tide

If one more email pings at night, one more voice pulls at the fray, another demand—a fire alight, another shout to “do” or “pay”— I swear I’ll burst, shatter, break, with tempers caged and silence gone, crushed by the weight others place, on this thin, trembling thread. Each

Dreams of my Dogs

I dreamed last night of impossible births, Grey feathers shifting to fur, chirps dancing beneath a strange oak table. My two, Sig & Doof, lying there, old eyes glistening with the weight of years, straining to give me their young, yet only strange abominations spilled out. I whispered to them,

Off with Her Hair!

If I cut my hair, will they call me mad, will they see the fracture running through me? If I slice it all away, every strand gone, can I be un-born, can I un-write this life— scrub away the stains, redo that house as if it were ours, a place

Ghibli’s Patience

she rolls her eyes with a restless breath, warm, wide, sails stretched taut, fierce and bemused, half-playful, half-tolerant of the creature she bears, indulgent as she glides. her nimble hull hums and skips the waves, tuned to storms and shifting skies, to clouds with mischief in their bones— the kind

About

LayersofZoe

Layers of Zoe is a quiet space for reflective writing—poetry, dreams, notes, and essays on memory, perception, and form.

Topics

Jung at Heart

Lessons in the Quiet

Signals

The Deepest Layer

The Follies File