26 février 2020

je parle français aussi, mais là les mots me viennent en anglais.

my shoulders and neck are burning with needle quick picking sensations. my mind is racing in fast disembodied associations. my head is hot. my bones are also my mind and that’s the case for all of us, but these bones of mine right now are vanishing. i know that if i do not take care of this, it will get worse. and that knowledge creates fear. fear of future. will i become homeless?

it is tricky to share this world because when i do, i participate in what ableist minds like to do with lives like mine. i share what makes my life interesting to the media, sometimes to academics or even advocates in their hunger to define my misery and possibly activate gestures from other hungry people who want to practice their acts of charity.

i want to be an equal.

i am in a swamp-space endlessly extended in directions out of the entitlement to exist and out of the belief that i will be able to come to Sudbury. for reasons i won’t share, traveling and committing to a predetermined schedule are hard although, in the deepest contradiction of the wild animal i am -and we all are wild animals-, structure and commitment are exactly what i need. i love deeply love when i can work at bikechain in Toronto. build a bike from used parts. step by step, gesture after gesture. one question. one answer. one tool. one gesture. one thought. did not work. try again. other tool? nice game. where is the wheel?

traveling and commitment require a starting point with a skeleton in one piece or more or less. i live with internalized and inherited mind forces and tissue memory, imagine them as from diverging and asynchronous times and directions, which are breaking my proprioception and kinesthetic experience of my skeleton. right now, i am not (fully) here. how could i come there?

i will need an annulation plan and a contingency plan.

we are equals.

nous sommes égaux.