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Maybe, you do not need to wrestle anymore. You are already here.
How far can you go? Or have you already arrived?
We pour our fingers onto the dark soil. Our tips start rooting into the ground.
Is this how it will feel like at the end of this life, when the human body will transmute into something else? (losing one’s form – multiplying the illusion of ego into a multitude of others)
Why the earth?
Why does land attract us so much?
Which futures have we already been? Which pasts are our bodies carrying?
Can you hear the movement of the soil? Can you bear it?
On devient forêtes. We become forests.
How deep shall we go to reach it?
Nails become more and more black.
What if we were to kiss her? (a mouth full of soft and cool soil)
How on earth…?
Can being tied to a land also be the source of our liberation?
How does it feel like to embrace it – to decolonise it?
Our earth-bodies are talking to us. Will you stop, and listen to them?
Our freedom has the colour of (the) earth - the colour of skin
Bactéries, insectes et vent. Quelle forme on deviendra? Bacteria, critters and wind.
Why is black the colour of impurity, of the ‘morally wrong’, of the abject?
Our embrace might become a kiss – a mouth engulfed by cool, soft earth.
With a gentle stroke, we get soiled.
Can we open our futures and transition to our earth-bodies?
Will soil save us from the ever-present cementification of our lives?
Pourquoi la terre? Why the earth?
But don’t they also just call it ‘dirt’? Même si on l’appelle ‘boue’…
Can you bury yourself in it?
Enfin, la terre est la cause de tous les conflits. Land is at the root of all conflicts.
Can we decolonise mud, dirt, black?