Birth-date with myself

I keep shedding my identity, all its different layers…

I keep destroying my ego

The pain is big and slow

And yet something is moving, something is shifting

I am in between the worlds, of the dead and the living

Resting in the space of dark

The fertile void of my becoming

I smell damp earth and green grass, feel the pull of the Earth

Beneath it my bear feet

Looking up at the horizon of the far away futures

Deep deep longing for the Earth

Constant gentle flow between the inner storms

No space to breathe, no space for air

Silent roar

Crumbling

Grief

Re-birth.

[In the fires of Aries]

Written on 18 April 2026, Brussels