She walked. Relentlessly, she walked. Wanderer. Her heart in a bag. Only survivor of her past. Lost but free. She walked like a funambulist to her Fate. She walked to find back her lost oneness. Her World was timeless. Unchanged. She lived. Instinctively. By the moon, the stars and the sun. She went through the unknown and wilderness to find her sense of purpose. Seeking for a meaning. She had broken her Universe to pieces, she blended arcanes, trying to rebuild herself. All the tools were hers, she only had to begin, to start all over again. She needed some time to process, to let her thoughts, dreams, hates and fears mix so she could explode them, put them out for a new creation. To finally root them, give them a structure, an organised pulse. Then her inner move push toward the world will fly her up? Build an internal bridge between every piece of her? Then her inner move push toward the world will build a bridge between Earth and Sky? This first shake gave her few possible trails: left or right? She went North, barren and frozen; was she ready to make flowers bloom South of her Destiny? Was she ready to make choices, to drive her golden and fire cart, guided by her both successful and opposite instincts? Yes. No. She didn’t know. Maybe. Yes, but she couldn’t move. No, but she kept wandering. It was already a choice, wasn’t it? To keep going in order to find her way? She still needed to balance her life. To weight the pros and cons. To say the right words. To give the fair looks. On every layer of her life. Both in time and space. Thus, she kept going. Deprived of everything. Warmth. Shelter. People. Freezing and Alone. With only light, her little sun in her heart. Thus, she wisely kept going through her dark path. More or less certain to be guided by the wheel of fate. More or less anxious to go back to her starting point, attached to already old habits. More or less eager to take a look at herself. Despite her continuous movement though. After loosing sense, she lost her marks. In this Brand New World, she has no reference except herself. Except her inner roar she had tamed for such a long time. In her silent and changing Being, in her own inner Chaos, her heart purred louder and louder. Impossible to shut down. She was ready to leap, to eat her own Universe, connected again to her own breath of life. Aborted though. The world stopped turning. Hung in stillness. She only had her inner landscape to explore. Her dark and encysted roots. Feet in the Sky, head on the ground, she looked closer. Her quest was on pause, she didn’t know how to walk the clouds yet. She needed to change her eyes. She needed to turn lead into gold, cut all the inheritance pulling her back. And then. Finally. Temper her wounds. Make her opposites live together and not at war anymore. Thus, she could see her addictions. She would be able to heal the last visible and invisible threads preventing the burst of what was waiting. She got out her own prison. She revealed the most pure and raw version of herself. Showing her naked truth to the night. Protected both by her loving star and the warm moon, she listened to her heart, not furious anymore but free as a wave. Digging to the deepest part of herself. Ready to shine and bloom. Rebuilt. To be born again. In the full light of the day. She gave birth to her new self. She was a whole. New. A new meaning in her soul, body, heart and world. New. She could go back on the road. Wanderer. Her heart in a bag. Only survivor of her past.
Lost but free.
Justine T.Annezo – March, 4th 2022 – GTM+1
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 