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i found myself blithely braving through the dry history of u.s. healthcare activism and all the reasons it wasn't successful (namely, fear of socialism and entrenched racism). after that was done and over with, i buried myself in assata shakur's life of oppression by the very government that claimed the label, "land of the free." and by the time it was 6pm, i had just finished reading about her narrow escape from a gang rape when i noticed that a middle aged chinese man turned around twice to look at me. i glared at him with the nauseous disgust freshly evoked in my gut from assata's story. by the third time he turned around, i was packing my things to leave and he was opening his mouth to say something. i didn't stick around. as i walked past the shadowy eucalyptus groves, i struggled to stomach my disgust; he was ugly and creepy and i wanted to hug myself and squeeze out the memory of his face.
it is fascinating to stop for a moment and consider the polarizing range of emotions i can experience in a single day of relatively few notable events. i woke up this morning feeling like the most antisocial creature in the world because i had, once again, miserably failed to wake up to my alarm. so i sat up and after a suspended moment of squinting at the obstinately self-righteous alarm clock, i promptly keeled over into the part of my blanket that had been warmed by the most unwelcome sun. after cooking some brown rice and yams, and after showering, reading about rehoboam's foolishness and remembering how God impressed john 15 on my heart the night before, i felt noticeably better. a saturday of catching up on reading didn't seem too daunting. and so i wore a dress because it was 80 degrees outside and headed over to a sun drenched booth outside tapex only to migrate to a booth in the shade after five minutes of glare on my laptop and heat on my shoulders. i was so glad for short hair.
i wondered briefly what my real intentions were, for cutting my hair, for wearing a dress, for studying in public. i donno. sometimes there are monsters i can keep at bay when i am in public places. but sometimes i am reckless and open myself to heartbreak when i am in public because there are faces i want to see and things i want to hear but i know it's all bad and awful for my heart. i wished for a best friend.
i found myself blithely braving through the dry history of u.s. healthcare activism and all the reasons it wasn't successful (namely, fear of socialism and entrenched racism). after that was done and over with, i buried myself in assata shakur's life of oppression by the very government that claimed the label, "land of the free." and by the time it was 6pm, i had just finished reading about her narrow escape from a gang rape when i noticed that a middle aged chinese man turned around twice to look at me. i glared at him with the nauseous disgust freshly evoked in my gut from assata's story. by the third time he turned around, i was packing my things to leave and he was opening his mouth to say something. i didn't stick around. as i walked past the shadowy eucalyptus groves, i struggled to stomach my disgust; he was ugly and creepy and i wanted to hug myself and squeeze out the memory of his face.
productivity took a woeful toll once i was back in my apartment; i listened to some emily king and some yuna and some daley. i also stress ate some ice cream and nutella while i was in the midst of that terrifying moment of paralysis and anguish preceding creation. i helped my friend brainstorm her essay and struggled to reign in my frustration. i wondered if patient people are just supremely convincing actors/actresses. i finished my newspaper illustration at 2:30am and am now writing for the sake of writing.
sidenotes;
i feel pregnant lol. i need to stop stress eating sugary foods.
i get so crazy when people don't respond to my emails/chats. why do you do that
i love pigma micron brush pens
i think i will write a spoken word piece sometime soon
i think i will write a spoken word piece sometime soon