A Poem and some rants.

I need you all to read this poem:

IT IS ONCE AGAIN THE SUMMER OF MY DISCONTENT & THIS IS HOW WE DO IT:

is creeping out of some open window same way it was
in the summer of ’95 when my heartbreak was a different
animal howling at the same clouds & the cops broke
up the block party at franklin park right before the song
hit the last verse because someone from the right hood
locked eyes with someone from the wrong one & me &
my boys ran into the corner store & tucked the chocolate
bars into the humid caverns of our pants pockets
& later licked the melted chocolate from its sterling
wrappers in the woods behind mario’s crib with the
girls we liked too much to want to know if they liked
us back & there it was, the summer i learned to kiss
the air & imagine it bending into a mouth & here it is
again, the summer everything outside i love is melting
& i tell my boys there is a reason songs from the 90s are
having a revival & it’s because the heart & tongue are
the muscles with the most irresistible histories & i’m
kind of buzzed. i’m kind of buzzing. i’m kind of a hive
with no begging & hollow cavities. there is intimacy
in the moment where the eyes of two enemies meet.
there is a tenderness in knowing what desire ties you to
a person, even if you have spent your dreaming hours
cutting them a casket from the tree in their mother’s
front yard. it is a blessing to know someone wants a
funeral for you. a coming together of your people from
their faraway corners to tell some story about your
thefts & triumphs. all of your better selves shaking
their heads over a table, chocolate staining their teeth.
i suppose there is also intimacy in the moment where
a lover becomes an enemy, though it is tough to say
when it happens. probably when there is a song you
can’t remember them living inside of anymore, even if
both of you curled your lips around the words in a car
at some impossible hour of morning, driving away from
the place you met. i like my agony threaded together by
the same chorus. not everything is sisyphean. no one
ever wants to imagine themselves as the boulder.

by HANIF WILLIS-ABDURRAQUIB.

IT’S SO GOOD I HAD TO PAUSE FOR A MOMENT AFTER READING IT!!!!!!

Super sorry for no newsletter in your inbox, my anxiety spiked again, I got insecure and decided it was best if I just disappeared for a while. But, I’m back again with some Thoughts™️ , and well, get ready for that!

So the other day, someone told me that it was “good” that I went through bad things because it “taught” me something and I hated it. So much.

After almost a year of therapy, my therapist successfully drilled it into my head that we do not have to go through bad things in order for us to learn something from life. Of course, I’m not in control of what bad thing happens when, but it doesn’t mean it’s justified. To me, I feel like it absolves accountability from the other person by making trauma philosophical. It’s not fair. I didn’t ask for traumatic things to happen to me, so me being “mature for my age” was just survival, not something I wanted to do.

It just… I hate the romanticization of trauma, you know? The suffering never leaves me, to this day every wound feels like it’s brand new and I can’t just turn off my thoughts, right? I wish people on social media were more understanding of trauma and the work it takes to just be and not survive.

Anyway, that’s the end of the rant. If I say anything more I’ll start to sound useless so before I inflict that abomination on all of you, I just want to thank electrolyte-filled drinks for keeping me sane this week. I also did not fall for any targeted ads (fuk u amazon) and I did not end up wasting my money on things I don’t need. Pretty proud of myself!

I’ll leave you all with a donation link for Palestine and a book recommendation. The book is called “Mornings in Jenin” and I’ve honestly never cried so much after putting a book down. It’s raw, powerful and a very honest tale of the state-sponsored violence by Israel we still see to this day. I won’t say more, I need you all to read it. Beautifully written.

Here’s a link to donate: https://arab.org/ (Click on Palestine, where just one click will help with the donation!)

You can find a pdf of the book here: https://libgen.is/search.php?req=mornings+in+jenin&lg_topic=libgen&open=0&view=simple&res=25&phrase=1&column=def

Happy reading!

Stay safe,

Amulya.