turtlecane
turtlecane
turtlecane
10 posts
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turtlecane · 7 years ago
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the things people will do to one another...
i am too tender for this world.
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turtlecane · 8 years ago
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my dear fellow immigrants:
when the fuck did july become a giant celebration of white supremacy?
my body is holding so much grief today, forever untangling what it means to be an immigrant on this soil.
this month begins with a massive mockery of this land's last 150 years of colonial violence: a giant party summoning us to dance on the memory of genocide, slavery and ongoing atrocities with less succinct names. its an open invitation for white supremacists to embolden their violence, and an open declaration of how little this country values black and indigenous lives with centuries-old roots here.
I almost cant believe this month then closes with the corporate pride parade...another face of the same White Pride dollar. last year, hfx pride made it clear that upholding white-supremacist, capitalist, colonial values is more important to them than the safety of queer bipoc community. this year, as we boycott in resistance, Proud white Boys will dance shirtless on TD floats to music made by black women, in a parade that supposedly marks the anniversary of trans bipoc resistance to police violence.
as an immigrant i am...bewildered.
I did not know this was what I was getting myself into when I came here 13 years ago. and I sure as hell dont know how to swim in this mess now that im here.
so lets talk, fellow immigrants, because I can't be the only one of us out here whose lost and overwhelmed.
lets chat this out, because I see so many of us leaning into the numbness of overwhelm and convincing ourselves that, its not THAT bad...right? there are always two sides to every story, right?
here's the thing, I know what they put us through when they make use prove that we have a right to be here. I know the things they make us agree to, and vow to, and convince them of. I know that, by the time you get that piece of paper, its almost impossible to remember if your thoughts are yours or the ones they fed you. but holy fuck is it ever important to remember...
remember what is yours.
many of us came to this land bearing legacies of colonial violence much older than 150 years – carrying centuries of stories of this same colonial project, only from its epicentre.
we know this game. we live it in every breath.
in our cells we hold the memory of how whiteness came and took our lands, our people, our magic. in our skin we remember how they tattooed us with their values: ownership, queerphobia, selective memory.
we cannot/we can not/we may not come here and allow them to make us agents for their murderous legacy.
so, here, let make a commitment together - with our ancestors, with this soil and with the ancestors and spirits of this soil: 'I will forever search for the pieces of me that are complicit in colonial violence, and I will feed them to the most powerful forces of death, destruction and transformation.'
may we continue to grow with this land, and not at its expense.
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turtlecane · 8 years ago
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some days feel like theyre going to swallow me whole
I could slip, so easily, into the depths of whatever it is im drowning in
      the agony of centuries
      abandonment across generations
      no amount of screaming is enough to get it out
      always so alone...so so alone
and stay there
surrender to submersion
      indifferently
      effortlessly
      grateful for the rest
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turtlecane · 8 years ago
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i often secretly long to be a writer maybe a sci-fi writer...like the most brilliant of them i could write my own story, my own future a mix of science and fiction a mix of hard truths and liquid dreams a mix of cold calculations in a cruel and violent world                  and the blazing fire of creative resistance a mix of cold snow and hot sand                 the silence of solitude                      the music of many a mix of circumstance and desire a mix of coping and thriving where will i go? who will i become? where should i begin...
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turtlecane · 9 years ago
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future ancestor
sometimes i catch myself thinking about my grandma as an ancestor. she's not. but she very much wants to be. ive had shame come up around this; as if by thinking of her this way im wishing or waiting for her to die. recently i thought about the fact that she's very much on her way to the ancestor realm. that she, herself, is ready and waiting. and i realized that she's probably partly there already. because of where she is in life/death. because she wants to be. perhaps i have an easier time connecting with the part of her that is already there, than i do with the part that is still here and doesnt want to be.
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turtlecane · 9 years ago
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dear shame
dear shame, thank you for always showing up, for making yourself known and for getting me to pause and notice myself. thank you for trying to protect me, for pushing me to grow. thank you for helping me discover the tender, wounded places in myself. thank you for helping me notice where there are layers; a depth that is years, decades, generations deep. thank you for helping me feel when i am not walking in my truth. thank you for a nausea that is not numbness. thank you for a skin-crawling discomfort that is of my own body. thank you for reminding me that my kidneys, my body hold(s) my trauma; that trauma is a tangible thing that can be moved. thank you for a stomach that turns and a heart that burns because it is alive and present. thank you for replacing the black hole that is often my insides with a swirling sensation that reminds me that i am a person. thank you for everything that you have always and will always do for me. thank you for loving me, always. i love you <3
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turtlecane · 9 years ago
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its easier to disappear.
ive spent the past several weeks trying to fade away into video games, tv shows, audiobooks. id rather let the time pass, play something loud enough that i cant hear my own body. its simpler to disconnect, unplug, hide.
shame is one hell of a monster.
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turtlecane · 9 years ago
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i want the impossible. i always have. i want someone to love me so that all of the lies that i was made to believe about myself are shattered. i want someone to love self worth back into my bones. i want someone to convince me that its not true - that im not worthless, that im not a fuck up, that i am, after all, a beautiful being worthy of love. i want someone to love the memories away. i want someones love to quiet the echoes of his voice in my head. i want someone to love the generations of betrayed and lonely women that i hold in my blood. i want someone to love me awake and whole. i want a love that will shatter my walls, reverberate in my core and bring out my truest, wholest, most divine self.
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turtlecane · 9 years ago
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un-solid
you pride yourself in being solid - firm, steady, consistent. you prize it in those around you; demand it of your lovers. and with disgust you tell me, 'you are the complete absence of solidity' and youre right. i am. but for the life of me i cant remember why i would i want to be solid - hard, unmoving, impenetrable - except to please you? i no longer want to please you. i am done twisting my projection, muting my anger, quieting my storm, shaming my thunder...for your comfort, for your approval, for 'your love'. i want to flow like a river, dance like flame. i want to roar with delight as i thrash in the winds of my hurricane. its true. i am the complete absence of solidity. i am the ashes of solidity playing gleefully in wind.
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turtlecane · 9 years ago
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today i want to tear it all down
i want to break down everything i have built for myself
to burn the bed ive made for my self to rest
to destroy the altars ive built to communicate with my ancestors
to tear out the roots ive grown slowly, slowly into my own heart
i want it all dead
i want it all broken
i want it all in pieces at my feet
i want to deserve the disdain i see in the eyes of those who dismiss me
to be the violence that i was made to survive
i want the tar to seep out of my arms and back
and i want it to stain everything beautiful around me
today i forgot that i am not my shame
i forgot that my self-worth is my own
i forgot that i am not what those who cannot love me make me out to be
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