Remix writing from three of us.
Even though I don’t know what character it is, what is it, what’s coming out from me, I cannot define its emotions, gender, history, or narration, it has already reached a certain state of being. It is definitely very alert and sensitive. It sees life in inanimate objects, that connects it to aloneness and longing for other bodies. How to survive without contact with one’s own species?
Quick heartbeat. Hot skin. Sharp eyes. Teeth out.
Ready to jump, to bite, to scratch. To hurt, to protect.
I lose control. My instinct is talking.
Destructive lion, male lion, an abandoned king who crawls through all obstacles, not stopping for anything or anyone. The bones are grand and strong, crushing the dry trees. It leaves no marks on my lion. It empowers him. He now only hears himself, his own heart pumping, his breath is out of control, his bones pushing against the ground. The detailed awareness of the lion body has lost itself to rage, until the power runs out and the empty feeling of solitude again occupies the body. Echoe of violence runs through my blood. Feeling sleepy now.
I feel in between being a human and a lion. Sometimes more feeling as a lion, sometimes more as a human. I feel in between dangerous and seductive. Seductive? Yes, when my eyes become sharp and the direction of my focus is directed on something specific, I can feel extremely feminine (which is a new feeling in my lion body). Suddenly I become lighter, graceful, and more precise. I go away from the image of a king to, on the contrary, sense myself as a goddess of seduction. I can feel in between wanting to devour someone/something and wanting to have sex with it.
By trying to grow my sharp teeth, I produced minimal spasms on my superior outer lips. My tongue started growing and being wetter. I stuck it out and wetted my chops. My gaze became sharper. My throat started expanding and a low sound arised.
I consider for a moment to look for animals to hunt, but there seems to be nothing alive here, but the spiders crawling on my skin and the birds too far up to reach.
I feel hungry, but still not angry. Angriness? Why do I relate the lion to angriness?
I feel splitted between two emotions as a reaction to the sound of fire. The first is satisfying, settled, soft, rocking. The second feels alerting, alarming, dangerous, in the need of reacting fast.
Lying on the grass. Nothing to do. Contemplating. Enjoying the heat. Turning slightly the head in order to receive more heat on the skin. Potentially a little fly catching my intention for half a second, but at the end it’s not worth it.
I am very much in the present moment. I feel soft and at the same time very strong. There’s elasticity, resilience and wisdom in me.
A vulnerability and soft darkness in all that uncontrollable power.
Why would I think that my projection of human characteristics on them will make me know them, the lions?