Serpentina

Serpentina — always turning A snake doesn’t become someone new. It just lets go of the skin that no longer fits. Transformation isn’t pretty. It’s not a glow-up or a neat remake of your pain. It’s the quiet mess of your old self fading while your new self is still learning how to exist. Real change feels like this: uncomfortable, honest, unavoidable. The skin you’ve outgrown starts to press on you— yet you hold onto it because it feels familiar. Even a dying skin can feel safer than having no protection at all. Letting go is a form of intimacy with the unknown. It’s your real self slowly showing through, layer after layer. Yılan yeni bir kimlik yaratmaz; sadece ona dar gelen deriyi bırakır.