Like the last survivors clinging to The Raft of the Medusa, we find ourselves suspended in a state of drift, carried by the unstable tides of political, environmental, and socio-psychological unrest. With no clear course to follow, we move through a fluid world where certainty dissolves and meaning slips, echoing Zygmunt Bauman’s notion of liquid modernity. What emerges is not only a sense of disorientation, but also a restless motion: a continuous pull between losing ground and searching for it.

Drift unfolds here as both tension and potential, a force that unsettles, propels, and reorients. At once unconscious and deliberate, it moves through bodies and across spaces, shaping how we feel, act, and relate. Whether as an inner drive, a shared affect, or a quiet act of resistance, drifting interrupts the given and opens the possibility of becoming otherwise. In this in-between state, where surrender meets agency, we ask what it might mean to move without certainty and whether, in doing so, new forms of belonging can begin to take shape.