BUALA

Future in three metaphors: one step after another

I kept my grip on the spot, my feet firmly rooted, almost glued to it. I needed to propel myself forward, but I didn't know how. As if my body had forgotten one of its capabilities. I couldn't even understand if the urge I felt was rational or if it was coming from my gut, or from the voices I heard urging me to fall, because the body was resisting and, when the body resists, we must listen to it, accept that resistance, that insistence on self-preservation.

I'll visit

19.04.2025 | by Liliana Coutinho