i can’t keep quiet // one woman riot

most days i watch this video at some point; usually in the evening/ at the end/ when i’m tired and restless and unsettled from having updated myself on the day’s happenings:

I can’t keep quiet 
For anyone 

and fairly often during this daily ritual i cry, usually just a little, sometimes a little bit more than a little. it feels like it is too holy; i don’t know what i am witnessing but it’s truth and trust and solidarity. it’s organic. it’s me, it’s who i want to be, it’s who i fail to be. it’s the women i am surrounded by both in love and as strangers. it’s us.

it is resistance.

some days this video is the reminder i didn’t do enough- that i checked out from the news, i didn’t go to a protest, i didn’t call representatives, i didn’t, i didn’t. i was quiet and keeping quiet and making other people be quiet when i just CAN’T talk about the bullshit anymore. and the things i did- i did peruse dresses online for an hour and i did buy expensive tea today. why did i do that?

But no one knows me no one ever will 
if I don’t say something, if I just lie still

how am i doing anything other than resisting all of the time? every molecule of me is against the state of this country. i know the world is coming apart, our country is ripping away from any semblance of what we have known. and yet… it’s not. this has been here and is, mostly, the country’s roots coming up through the sidewalk. cracking everything.

there are days i watch the above video at the end of my days and don’t cry- i think or don’t think or meditate or tune out or watch snapchat stories.

I can’t keep quiet

and then the snapchats infuriate me. i am snapped back to reality that, um, things are “normal?” the stream of snapchat looks the same as it did before november 8th. people are still showing off their new shoes or italian dinners. or think their dog running in the snow is interesting. i wonder what it feels like to live as though things are normal. i wonder who doesn’t give a shit about all this and who is just covering up their own pain, as we do. i wonder how people drag themselves out of bed and have a normal days, these days.

and me, well, there are two me(s) after the election: the first is “i’m tired of being sad so, okay yeah whatever i guess we all just kinda gotta keep going” and the second is like “FULL STOP. how are ANY of us using ANY of our energy toward ANYTHING other than fighting and carving a path forward that demands basic human rights for all people?”

There’ll be someone who understands 
Let it out Let it out

how come we are not forcing one another to bare witness, at every single opportunity, to the atrocity that our country is becoming? does pleasure even have a place in times likes these?

this past weekend i visited my brother in St Louis and LOVED it; i had an amazing time, loved exploring a new city and seeing my brother’s life in law school. i tuned out, didn’t keep up. and i felt guilty about it.

i’m tired, i’m embarrassed and i’m sad. still all of these things about a month into this presidency. i’m all of these things all the time, sometimes in the back of my mind, sometimes at the front.

i question everything, and not always in a good way- nothing feels forward anymore. nothing is sure. do i even have a right to write this? what does my voice MEAN, how can i make it mean more? am i standing by my convictions? what do i do next? SOMEONE TELL ME.

They may see that monster, they may run away

i know i stand with immigrants and lgbtq people and disabled students and black people and muslims and christians and grandparents and people on medicare and latinos and, and, and…

but am i doing it right? am i standing strong enough?

how can i be there and here and moving forward and being productive and accepting life moves forward while knowing that i will NEVER accept this as normal? i will NEVER accept tr*mp and his associates as my president/ government.

I can’t keep quiet

and then i remind myself the cool thing about women is that we can be more than one thing, we can be SO many things. you can be in st louis one day and resisting the next. you can snapchat your morning art project and be completely updated on the country’s happenings. you can fight and fall and cry and laugh. if you show up, laughing or crying, we’ll be together, the best place to start.

i wrap myself in the words of MILCK. and the visual of the song at a march that was a rally of truth to power and a big fat NO. it was showing up and resistance.

they’re not enough. i still do not know how to do enough and i believe it’s something i’ll always be working on. we are at war and this battle cry is where i end my days, at least for now.

this post is all over the place, i’m all over the place but: But I have to do this, do it anyway / I can’t keep quiet, no oh oh oh….