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All that it is

Modifié le : 2019/08/04

I bare­ly real­ize what my body is to me. It is both my ori­gin and my end. There was a time when I hung on my moth­er’s reef ; I was a fish. Of that, I only have traces of it in the DNA trans­mit­ted by my par­ents. I can’t remem­ber my con­cep­tion or my birth, as if these moments did­n’t belong to me, as if it were a mys­tery more unfath­omable than divine reason.

On my first day, the waters opened, and I opened my gills. My body knew what to do, and it still does. It is my friend, my com­pan­ion, accepts the wan­der­ings of my mind. My body is my mind. I enjoy it, I suf­fer from it. I cul­ti­vate an ambigu­ous rela­tion­ship with it, while I don’t know when it talks, don’t guess when it keeps qui­et. It is my ser­vant, tak­ing care of dai­ly tasks. I know I have to watch it because it is some­times too stu­pid, accu­mu­lates fat when it no longer needs it, vom­its when it has had enough, makes me think full of non­sense when it pours into sero­tonin, or I don’t know which of the sub­stances it is mas­ter of.

I start­ed pho­tog­ra­phy a lit­tle bit to explore myself, both by look­ing at oth­ers and at myself. My body will say noth­ing when it dies, and I will say noth­ing more, for I am more than a Trin­i­ty, I am one.

When I touch anoth­er body, mine pan­ics, opens my eyes wide, wants to taste, eat, stuff itself. Moor­ing on some­one else’s shore makes you dizzy, and I know you have to keep your eyes open. Bod­ies get drunk, so quick­ly, they start danc­ing at the slight­est res­o­nance. In anoth­er’s body, the fury of the big bang vibrates. And my own atavisms tell me both the lies and the truths I want to hear.

There is no true med­i­ta­tion except the one who lis­tens to its body. For our flesh is our king­dom. The con­scious­ness that we have of it is a beau­ti­ful dress that we some­times take off, the time to love ourselves.

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