performative

March 12, 2024

*CW: self harm

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my cousin wrote, "the greatest role i ever played was that of a happy man."

after his suicide, i sought therapy, because by the age of 17, passive suicidality had already become my normal, and recognizing in the faces of the people you love how wounded they are by the loss of someone makes you wonder if there are ways to stick around so that you don't hurt the people you love.

but then you hurt the people you love because you are not who they expect you to be. or they really like certain parts of you that compliment the parts of themselves they like to showcase. but you learn that disappointment works both ways because of these unspoken narratives and impressions other people have of you, while you are this, indeed, magical being with such capacity for empathy and compassion, but who struggles giving that to herself because she exists in a society that was never designed with people like her in mind, bur rather these fictional archetypes, these impossible heroes. 

real heroes live on disability.

it shouldn't be this difficult to exist. i'm really not trying to take up much space. i know i'm allowed to. i just don't need much to be happy. a plot of usable earth. a happy ecosystem. is that too much to ask?

some neighbors who love my rainbow flag. who fully embrace my queerness.

people who know me by name, and who check in with me about my family (i have this, just not next door)

good food.

good wine.

access to healthcare.

a home. my own home. 

a little space to tend to 

some help with from the people in my community. 

privacy. plenty of space to myself. plenty of space to make noise 

without disturbing anyone, where i don't feel like i am being 

watched or spied on. 

it's hard to think about all the ways we've been traumatized. we don't want that victim mentality. right? no one likes people who "play victim." i don't even know what that means. people who fake injury? haven't we all been injured? just by being born?

for reasons that are not hard to come by, supposedly we chose this lifetime. we chose to exist. we chose to embrace this opportunity to live. 

others think, "i didn't choose to be here."

i certainly don't think i chose a country, if i had any say in the matter. 

i'd like to believe i did have say in the matter (pun intended), because then it makes me feel like i can just have faith in the eternal nature of my being, that i had good reason to exist at this time, in this century, with these other people around me. 

forming the connections i form. sharing with people. helping each other. what's more beautiful than that? learning together. we're all students of this universe. basking in the love we feel through our connection to everything. struggling with the imperfections of humanity.