D

The feeling of doubt is one to be ridden, or be ridden by. It hides in questions, sneaks out to conjure passiveness, makes you desert yourself and flounder. It is the body of an animal, riding uncontrollably through your mind, hyperactive, cementing your own. In fleeing pose, freeze stuck, its body is primitive and free - or is this actually you, your own? You become flat, fill up the floor, you are to be stepped on, watching what concocts above. How can you commit to this, 'please', you whine, 'don't make me sign here.'