Snake skin
I’ve started writing the post and I ended up writing something more personal and metaphoric that, although I wouldn’t mind to post it in here, it made me think about how this project has been mutating since the beginning.
This project bagan as a challenge to write more, and to think about things more than twice. While in the first posts I almost kept the same structure, language and intention, as I moved forward and became more comfortable with putting stuff out there, I’ve freed myself from constraining to just write about design and work from a sorta depersonalised perspective.
Right when I thought that I’d never write a poem ever again, all that language came back to me, and in the last weeks I’ve found myself writing fiercely in paper verses, or small pieces like the one I mentioned at the top.
Like so, it feels weird to write this; and as this space is called “Space for Independent thought” , I guess this is just a disclaimer of the possible mutation what you read in here may change or even have a different name.
This is a piece I wrote the other day almost slept in bed.
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Like the jacket
Nicolas Cage wears
in Wild at Heart.
This skin
reaffirms my inner self,
this skin it’s mine
because is not
because it mutates
because it gets dry
and hard
with the sand.
I don’t tolerate my own poison,
so I bite back.
I don’t walk
I slide
between the water
and the ground
because decision-making
is not of my kind.
Eyes glowing in the dark,
the sound of my silence
in your ear,
and your voice that I missed
on my heart.
Thanks for reading!
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Yours,
H.