september, october, in you i officially* bid sorrow bye
SADNESS
i been working thru a personal essay on my black boi joy that’s important to write for this era i've pressed both feet strongly into.
because of how deep in my blood and bones sorrow stirred and roiled & seeped frm,
emo🖤 for many reasons, rightly, but it’s important to write
just 4 how
the grace of a transition is a wondrous dawning so beautiful and so special. i mean i dwelt with such a sadness that feels impossible for words to remember & hold. & suddenly my life changed since i encountered some spirits, or more so just acknowledged them cause dey been there all along. within me, my own physical & spiritual exhaustion with being a saddo coupled with a heated desire to shift things. together all these blew open this process of transformation, ultra.
& i, too, wanted to taste more and more joy
surpassing my dogged capacity for sadness. and if it didn’t do it for me, my body, seeing me through so much heavy shits, deserved it.(deserves it.)
(something about this photo makes me think of inherited sadness. how can that not be true? i look at my lips and see my mother’s lips.)
sometimes, under the covers, it is easy to think well maybe the sadness can be mine
— in some way that an era of black boi joy doesn’t mean sadness is rid of forever — this sadness is mine forever,
the sadness being integral to who i am;
diligent companion, like rage, i've learnt what it's useful for —
but, again, i want to know so much of something else, and live so much for something else — my body, my ancestors, my kin, what the world itself offers
and maybe, maybe, i will eventually follow.
this ferocious bubbling to the surface to breathe other things finds holy familiarity with asake's mr money with the vibe album (a mirror in many ways) and the actual vibe surrounding asake's artistry. (in black boi joy, i hope to stretch this out more and draw the links.) essentially, there is something about asake's music that reminds me of what my body is capable of. it reaches my bones, striking deep the same place sadness lives, in a way no other feeling has ever been able to. not even love .x_x.
joy joy joy in my bones
it’s been even more profound opening my head to the spirits i work with now to build my poem of my life that's filled with so much pain,*rme* yes, but much more beauty, joy, humour, levity, eros.
expansive lushing, big purrring that is already my capacity and then steering that to light light light lighter things.
more more more
my body is so open. open so much that i would not be terrified of overflowing joy. i will enter into it, i will lose myself, burst, gather myself, burst again, layer myself, frost myself, adorn myself in it.
i will hold it fully. i will say this too is mine. this too is my birthright.
WANT
the way i want is a terror. a big bottomless void i wonder wtf whoever stuffed my spirit in this flesh was thinking. if i did, then fuck, really boo?[1] this world, this fickle ruining existence? what gets me the most is when i lay it all down, what i want, and see just how simple and uncomplicated these wants are, i get even more terrifyingly upset first for (the unfufillment) (and how much the world has steered far from being a place that could fulfill simple pleasures).
there are days i wake up wanting to protect myself from my desires (because not much reminds us how much suffering is brought on the body dwelling in unfulfilled want)
and some days i wake up hungrier.
give me more—
“ I’ve wanted people who made fun of my want, called me thirsty to my face because I was supposed to be more modest, let them be the ones who fed on me. But I’m starving, this world never seems to give me enough of anything. I want to squeeze existence until it runs a bloody pulp down my arms, wet and yielding. Give me everything.”
Dear Senthuran, Akwaeke Emezi.
it's very correct to be afraid that there’s something wrong in continuing to give this to myself, because the world and the people in it were made for each other— because self-love only does so little and is in excess exasperating. but when i am not tired, i can’t stop.
attention, devotion, joy, levity, humour,
& more cunt & more shimmer & more pwussy
i hope in the coming wave to pour so much of my desires into myself. asé*
_____________________
[1] always going back and forth on whether on not i chose this life. in this moment i think i did.
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"We truly underestimate the importance of emotional support and how much it matters. Being there for someone will probably be the truest and most beautiful thing you’ll ever do to someone when they are at their lowest and ugliest version of themselves.
Being aware of how much someone can be a prisoner of their own thoughts yet letting them get comfortable with opening up to you, reveal their most complex, messiest emotions and feel safe enough to bare their soul to you is honestly one of the few things in life you should never ever take for granted.
Remember that it takes a lot of strength to be vulnerable. It takes a lot of effort to unzip the hidden parts of you. It takes a lot of trust to know that someone might be ignorant to your traumas yet you still leave your emotional baggage right in front of their doorstep.
Kindness is a great form of intelligence if you ask me. Your constant trials to communicate, listen, trust, give and support are all what it takes you and them to evolve and grow. It’s necessary to understand that listening doesn’t have to be followed by an advice, or a positive statement, or “hey you’re just being too dramatic”, not even by making it about you or by basing it on your own life experiences.
You have to absorb what the other person is trying to say in their own language, be empathetic and validate their feelings. Be genuine and gentle. You have no clue how much you could be just that one reason why someone is healing."
- Noor ElAdawy
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Dear Friend,
You really don’t give a shit about me do you? For the past 8 months I’ve been asking to have some time and space to try and speak openly with the aim of making a few things better in our friendship. Your lack of effort and willingness to even try is breaking me down. You know that it’s having a big impact on me, that I’m hanging on by my fingertips and experiencing dark thoughts and yet you still refuse to make the time which I’ve told you is incredibly important to me. Your excuses of being busy are simply not good enough and come across as disrespectful - 8 months! What I’m asking for is the bare minimum of a friendship. Is my request so unreasonable?
In the absence of these conversations I’m just left feeling like you’re intentionally hurting me and taking pleasure from it. I will always try to own my part in things but you either choose not to see or don’t care that you contribute equally with your actions, words or more often lack of those things. You are aware of your impact.
I let very few people get close to me, I let you in and instead of understanding the magnitude of that you’re currently using this deeply personal knowledge to inflict hurt. I didn’t change, you did and now you’re blaming and punishing me for being upset, uncomfortable, rejected and confused with it. I don’t want this to be an ongoing issue as I’m sure you don’t either but if we don’t discuss stuff it’s never getting better and just becomes a bigger issue.
I do miss the mark and make you feel bad sometimes (which is a guess as you cannot seem to communicate effectively unless you’re furious and lay into me) but everything I try to do comes from a place of good intentions, a genuine care for you and desire to have a great friendship for many years to come.
Lately everything you project screams “I don’t give a fuck about you” When you know I’m in great pain you seem to turn it up a notch, during times that I need a friend or reach out for help, along with systematically chipping away each day, twisting the mental anguish with your distance, coldness, lack of engagement and withholding of stuff and when I reach the point of meltdown for several days (and this is the stage where I feel out of control and I know I’m impacting you) you’ll be nice for a single day or worse pretend it’s never happened with “yeah I’m all good” - which is fucked up.
You tell me ‘it needs to stop’ but never once have you seemed to consider you need to stop and that no matter what I bring up, you never take responsibility and immediately turn it back to me - own it like an adult. I’ve tried to talk to you about it, find solutions and get back to a more normal space but you refuse. It shouldn’t be that I’m the problem or you’re the problem… it should be us against the problem or we’re going to be stuck in this anxious/avoidant loop.
I do not want or need a response but what I do need is for you to make the effort, reflect on your contributions, own and apologise for your actions, open up and step up to make a plan for us to talk properly.
Despite the current feelings, you know how much you mean to me, I literally think the world of you, you’re very important, your unique qualities bring something very special to my life. Please meet me halfway, please.
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