Après la queer and rebel week, couplée avec les wagentage, en octobre à Berlin, illes font un zine. Du coup je leur ai envoyé un petit truc : le texte dé-terri-tori-ali-sation que j’ai écrit là-bas, et une petite intro que je vous mets ici.
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I’m sitting on the ground of the schoolyard that has just been occupied that morning, a couple of trailers are already here, as well as food and a fire. The former place is pretty certain to be evicted soon. Pack the few things you have, leave most of it behind. Give, throw away, forget. Clean up. Take your home with you and move it to the new place, start getting used to calling it “home”.
The first times, there are still a bunch of small roots hanging from my feet, my trailer, when I move out, when I get trans-planted. Remove the dirt off them, tear them out, clean it up. Now I’m bare and ready, 24/7 – you should see how organized my backpack is. No dirty root left.
I’m sitting on the ground of the schoolyard on a cheerleading-practice break, and we’re discussing this feeling of un-territoriality. How “home”, “margins” and such terms seem to acquire another meaning for us queers. How having a foot outside already makes it inevitable for you to make one more step this way. How this violent act of tearing out my last little dirty weak roots was motivated by the feeling that they already didn’t really fit anywhere.
I came home and eventually managed to write this thing which rhythm had been nagging me for a while. Un-terri-tori-ali-zation, un-terri-tori-ali-zation, un-terri-tori-ali-zation…
(puis le texte, donc).