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Now that six months have passed, I can look back down and see the very first step. But not only that: from up here, the margins are now visible, the timelines, the spaces... You can see more. The landscape has changed. Thank you for climbing with me. Anna Bresoli
I am at the halfway mark of the journey I set out for myself: month 6 of 12. In the past, my learning process always worked the same way: a massive initial acceleration followed by an endless plateau. But in this study I am inhabiting to express myself poetically, the terrain is different. It is a staircase. Every day I use my hour of superpowers—right when I wake up, at six in the morning—and every day is a new step.
Author's Note
About this Fanzine Series
My Journey Through the Word
ARCHETYPE III: THE SIREN
There is no beauty in the song.
It is only air drowning in the throat.
To float, I had to break my legs,
watch the skin harden into scales,
a gray scab I clean every night with alcohol and salt.
It itches.
Now I spend the hours combing this hair that does not belong to me.
It smells of dampness, of basements, of black ivy.
It grows downward, searching for the earth;
it is a root that misses the mud.
It wants to anchor itself to anything,
to drag me to the bottom of the floor.
What a stupid paradox:
to have the entire ocean inside my eyes
and be dying of thirst.
I am not going to give up, this book doesn't. I found a pulse here that rolls up its sleeves to pull me out of the puddle; like ivy, growing with its own truth.
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