/// their vision of who counts
continues to narrow ///

"the ones who stay and fight"
a response to
"the dispossessed"

/// gloom in retreat and
exhaustion, time for second
guessing //

Goldman Sachs to drop race, gender and LGBTQ+ criteria from board evaluations The move follows pressure from an activist shareholder group seeking end to DEI requirements

poem title idea: "OUTDATED PROGRAMS AND MATERIALS" (bezoz quote on getting rid of race/gender/sexuality lived experience/DEI)

/// they are sending the explicit message that the promise of upward mobility does not belong to people who aren't white and cis and straight ///

makes me feel like there will be something for someone

to read and understand.

i am not sure what this account now is, i guess

it is my attempt to make sure that if something horrible

happens to me, there will be some record of what

i was feeling when i felt it and why.

it is lonely to feel that i could disappear and no one

would notice or care, but leaving this here

it's actually really lonely and crushing to feel this sort of clairty, like holy mother of god help me

but also: belief in the absence of proof/feeling is faith

it is faith even when you don't feel it for certain, and maybe certainty over such things is only for crazy people.

i mean to be undecided on whether or not i was talking to god probably tells me all i need to know about where i'm at.

fuck

the way i slip between you/i you/me

it's been a costant in my poetry but didn't used to be a part of how i thought

but it feels like the absence of these things allows me to identify them more, like

holy shit whoopsie daisies i guess i am a crazy girl

the voices missing in the conversation are/were yours as well, just fucked up weird versions of you. impromtu versions of you.

idk. very un-lyrical feeling, these meds. they are not poetry

this is maybe a turn of phrase worth pursuing, like

someone who is also me

idk if this will make sense later, so: basically trying to put a lyrical spin on the feeling of having no motormouth of different voices and responses just spilling out on top of each other, how strange it is to realize

literally freaked out by how quiet it feels in my head

it's somewhat shocking to say something aloud and realize i'm expecting a response from someone that is also me

fucking wierd

do you remember in finding nemo when all the color shifts to more navy blue and hazy

and it's a sadder part of the movie

that is how life feels when i take my meds like something colorful but hazy and true being placed over what i used to see, which was vivid and coral and polyvocal

it looks easy. it looks almost made to go down in a way.

it is not.

i climbed down to the river on that shit thru the bramble and can say from experience it is not as easy as it looks, and i used to just roam around miles of shoreline finding ways to reach the parts of the pacific where the ocean crashes into the closest thing we can get to irish style cliffs

they took away the bramble near the river, exposing the perilous cement / rock cliff rivulets down to the water

this will absolutely lead to injuries

fuck these people's priorities

tourists are gonna bust their ass bc you don't want a few homeless ppl living near the river. assholes.

what freaks me out about suicide is that it's usually instictive and a decision made in the moment, which means you cannot really predict it.

but when you've struggled with chronic suicidality before, you know what reaching a level of stress that puts you in danger of that feels like.

if i kms it's the t'phobe fed's fault lmao

i wont but if i do it was deeeeefinitely the stress of this

we all know nights that feel like a quiet river that has been louder before

if i don't drink i will compulsively clean or write shit over and over again about nothing at all

went to say my little dumb prayer (it feels dumb right now, i am sad) last night and no one was around — which felt nice in a quiet river way

the river was quiet but quiet river is an adjective

i can't believe we are living in a world where the feddie gov would spend money sending someone like me to jail for something like SW

i am fed the fuck up with reliving traumatic shit bc i can't stop thinking of it happening again in a men's prison

it is paralyzing and idk what to do

whoops not catholic, he's episcopalian

but tbh all western churches needa learn how to do this better.

and so do all ppl with white privilege. god knows i'm still learning this.

"At what point do we quit saying words and let our bodies become the statement, the action?"

He speaks of the Catholic need to learn to better "stand alongisde" oppressed/persecuted communities instead of "standing for or speaking on behalf of" them.

(responding the GOP / far-right politicians and pundits blasting him for his activism and sermons and speeches on BLM and abolish ice movement / ICE resistance.

good interview)

"The way of the cross, according to Paul, is always foolishness. It's always absurd. It's always going to frustrate the way of the powerful.

The 'absurdity' of it, I'll take that."

— Bishop A. Rob Hirschfeld

the pope says trans people have a place in the catholic church.

we damn sure have a place in this country.

it saddens me no one is writing this

it saddens me i can't. maybe if it was addison rae doing this, i would be able to write this story.

but without a pop girl i want to be, i have little storytelling ability.

yes the body keeps the score

but the weirdest moments

are when you can hear that score

unfolding in the moment

and yes i did just make that

a musical metaphor

and then all of a sudden i started to have a panic attack on top of all this and had to gasp "please sit down"

and slowly i realized, ohhhh

the last time someone was standing above me and i was sitting with my dog barking & i couldn't breathe, i'd just been strangled and was laying in a bed.

here is something really wild:

today a friend came over to help bring food and drinks to me bc i'm still so sick.

she was standing above me as i was coughing and struggling to regain my breath, and because she was playing wth my dog, my dog was barking,

before they commit more crimes in violation of the lord, what is one's duty to offer them a chance to reconsider and remember the gospel and what it says about protecting the innocent, the weak, the immigrant, the persecuted?

to me, that is what my faith demands.

to my country, that is terrorism