Pieces of myself is a heart-rending introspection. A ludic and ironic exercise that tests the reader's expertise. Confessions become double-edged daggers. Each splinter contains more than one trap, more than an abyss. Ricardo Sevilla, master of sarcasm, of pomp and derision, takes advantage of the briefness of the aphorism to make the most of the suggestion, the evocation and, above all, the misunderstandings of the implication. Disjecta membra of an author who knows how to get rid of his privacy to zaherir (se) with her. The reader is an irregular piece that will have to conform to this puzzle. These pages, like all those that are worthwhile, were written with bile. An unpleasant book that ends up bothering more than one.