Notes from the Subaltern

Yesterday something happened that activated a whole bunch of trauma at once, especially from my childhood. It was a lot to process and I wanted to cry so bad but couldn't (which is interesting because I've been weeping every night for the last fortnight or so). Instead, it built and built until it all came flooding out in a series of moans, howls and screams. I've not had that happen in a while and I've been doing so well lately that it was kind of surprising at first that this could lay me so low, so quickly. 

So today is a self care day where I'm going to be extra gentle and kind to myself. I am my best resource after all. (You cannot pour from an empty cup. The mother puts the oxygen mask on herself first before her child.) I've already listened to some Belle & Sebastian and that made me feel better. I think I might watch La Vita è Bella later or maybe Ikiru. Old favourites that help me embrace life in all its shades and hues when I'm feeling vulnerable and scared. I felt like a child again last night and fell into a long and protracted struggle with my conscience as I relived all those feelings of blame and guilt once again. It's not my fault that my mum is an alcoholic. The people around me should have protected me. I was worthy of love then and I'm worthy of it now.

I'll probably read some more of War and Peace too today. I started a reread recently (it's my joint fave book) and it's everything. It's so interesting to read it again all these years later. Where before I practically studied Pierre in order to help myself out of similar quandaries and through my own existential crises, now I just can't stop laughing at myself and who I used to be (and still am in certain ways). Not in a malicious way but out of love and because Tolstoy's insights are so true and succinct and beautiful. Fuck, I love Tolstoy. No one else can describe people's messy inner lives with such economy and clarity; so vivid, so true and profound. He just manages to capture the whole width and breadth of human life. Plus I'm deep into my studies of the French Revolution and am up to the Directory, the period before Napoleon comes to power. So I'm appreciating that aspect of it much more this time around. It's such an easy book to read. I have no idea why people pretend it's so hard to get through. All the Russian names can be difficult and confusing at times but that's literally it. That's not a humble brag either. It's one of the easiest classic works I've ever read. (Okay, maybe that part was a humble brag but I'm feeling vulnerable today so please indulge me, myself and others.) 

I didn't sleep much last night. Christian Anarchists fascinate and inspire me. The last book I read was about the Anabaptists. If anyone reads this then what are your favourite books? What do you like to do for self care? Did you think this was going to be about Lenin? How are you?

Arrivederci per adesso la gabbia
 : )

They were supposed to close the online portal for the submissions of evidence for the draconian policing bill at midnight tonight but it's already closed.

This is authoritarianism taking over right before your eyes.

Please help me fight it.

I just suffered terribly writing down everything that happened only to see this, reliving all of the trauma, all of it.

This is serious. Wake up.

Ten years for causing a disturbance...
I'm scared for all of us but I have to try and be brave and keep fighting.
What would help make me feel more brave is if I had some people who are better at this than me helping me.
I'm going to keep looking into different organisations. I'm not giving up. Never. 
Solidarity forever.

I was watching the film, "Rosa Luxemburg" the other night and I could not stop weeping.

I hope you're all learning from her example because times right now are eerily similar and I fear that we might need some of that courage, wiliness and resolve in the years to come.

Tanks and nukes and a fucking yacht dedicated to some over privileged, racist ghoul?

Selling arms to the Saudis to bomb Yemen, fund Wahhabism and create the worst humanitarian disaster, in all of recorded human history?

And yet, we can't afford to provide for those who are forced to live on a razor's edge and are exploited mercilessly for it?

Well, I don't think we can afford to live without compassion. It will be the end of us.

Socialism or barbarism. Read Rosa. Please.

https://www.change.org/p/uk-government-stop-the-building-of-a-new-200m-royal-yacht?utm_content=cl_sharecopy_28678060_en-GB%3A4&recruiter=72686719&recruited_by_id=a4ab97f4-d8a7-428c-9006-b677a817c93b&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=copylink&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=fb56ff99208f4787adbfbf2358ee0493

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-devon-55348047

How about fucking no.

And anybody who wants to repeat that bullshit about tourism with zero substantiation, consider starting a petition to change the deck of the yacht into a ice-rink where the royal family will attempt to do semi-naked pirouettes, partially clad as pirates before signing autographs with their blood. Imagine the people who would pay through the nose to have such an experience with living royals! Then maybe we could afford to send children to schools with food in their bellies and without mummy and daddy's cries ringing in their ears in one of the wealthiest nations in the world, right? Or would we still inexplicably need more nukes and tanks? Ahh, how convenient for you and your friends in the military-industrial complex... Oh wait, let's just start putting police officers in schools so we can further criminalise distress and reproduce the school to prison pipeline that they have in America. Yay, more money for private prisons. And who ends up there? What disparities are there in the statistics surrounding incarceration? Fuck this shit. Fuck it to hell and back. All the architects of cruelty and callousness can go lick the greasy floor of the seventh level as far as I'm concerned.

One of my clients has been exceptionally patient and understanding with me during all of my emotional upheavals.

That's why they're going to get a 15,000 word story instead of a 10,000 one at no extra charge.

And because I was given that space to work through everything, it's now rushing out like poetry and is one of the best I've written.

I really appreciate that.

P.S

I'm actually a fucking genius so give me all your moneeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy

"You all called me losers and I don't see you out there walking children in nature."

Tammie Brown

https://www.acorntheunion.org.uk

https://www.un.org/press/en/2019/ga12131.doc.htm

Don't criminalise people's consciences. Not wanting almost every living thing on the planet to die is so fucking reasonable, come on.
Please, there's so much suffering in the Global South because of our actions. Please take responsibility for that and start fighting back.

In the past, I would set an alarm when I went to work.
The alarm was my master and my time surrendered unto him.
Today, I sit at the feet of love as children, wide eyed and rapt, the wonder of all flowing through, the blood of the poets dripping in primal theater.
I take a hammer for a hammer is a hammer and not something else and I take it in hand and use it build by smashing my alarm clock to fucking pieces.
I love to say fuck. Fuck is a watchword of freedom. I wish I hadn't explained that. You must justify yourself to me, to the love that soars, to the sweet dynamo of the stars, incandescent, burning hot ball of fire.
Oh, How I love you! How I weep fearlessly for you. A canticle unto you. I feel that burning warmth inside of me.
But oh those who flee from the sun, who hide themselves in caves thinking it will protect them from the open sky.
Look behind you you raving frightened writing people deriving fear from an ersatz equal with yourselves. There is a gaping hole that sucks the warmth from our cosy commune and it is the cracked ones that the light shines through anyway.
Blind yourself, gouge out your masters eyes. Lick it, taste it, it is holy, Ah, ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, the masters art will never release the chains from your heart.
And please, I beg you, I plead with you from everything that is holy to me, grab a fucking hammer and start to build. Listen, be here now, you hear me, don't you? I know you're in there somewhere, submerged. It's okay. Come here.
Come here to the space within me ,within us, it is the kingdom of heaven. I have tasted the fount of all that is good and I AM ON FIRE.
How beautiful it is to burn. How right, how just, how free. FREE. FREEDOM. To see the left lose their way and forgot who we are. YOU ARE NOT MONEY. You are people.
And I have come down from the misty peaks of the mountain to suffer your blows, suffer your recriminations, suffer the attempts to lock my heart, try to paper it over with your disgusting money
But what you do not know is that I like to lick men's assholes and I like to prostrate myself before my own fear so that I can tame it.
Please tighten the cuffs daddy.
My hands are dirty. Yes, I know this. You do not need to tell me. I till the soil of human experience. I wipe them on the bars of the cage that I build for myself. I hope one day I will not need the reminder.
And so what you do not know is that I am revolt-ing. Utterly revolting and disgusting and hateful, well, by most standards but what standards are these?
Why you can't you look me in your eye? You know this is who we are? Why are you running? You're running because the sky is coursing through with purple thunderbolts.
Utter vengeance to strike fear in the hearts of the unjust. But what you do not know is that this is only you. This is only you. Because you are not money. You are society. You are the wrath of heaven.
The kingdom of heaven is within you. It lives within that tension you keep rejecting, that you reject now. Choose fear and not love. Weep at the feet of the sages.
Find yourself in bygone ages. Merge the holy fool with the philosoph. Try and try and embrace the fear like a Chinese finger trap. You will shake. You will shake yourself to pieces and find the grit at the heart of it all.
Lick it! LICK IT. LICK THAT GRIT.
Spit dribbling down my chin, drunk on my own haughtiness and daring. Lick it like a cat licks its asshole.
That asshole will become a pearl. Shit out the pearl. Rebirth yourself. Kill your parents and hit the road. Become a child again and wring your hands at those who hold you in their clutches. Then raise yourself.
Raise yourself to nature.
Let nature raise you to herself.
Become it, live it, sing it! SING IT! DANCE IT! SCREAM IT! LAUGH IT! CRY IT!
with passion dripping from every pore,
dressed as an elf or a wizard perhaps skipping arm in arm playing the flute with the drum of war beating at our heels. It drums for us.
Point your fingers like guns at the cop in your head. Coopt the dead and be a thief with gratitude. Take freely from those who give of themselves freely. Just as your mother does. Just as the sky does.
Talk to the birds....
Talk to the birds If you need a big fat joint first... then fine. Only don't stay there. That is not truth. That is a plateau. Be like Bruce Lee, be cool and wise and shit. You don't need a six pack.
You can be great by embracing the void within you and letting it swallow you whole, only return and do not borrow love from illusions. Become a mirror to hatred.
Purify yourself by realising that you are already pure if not for the greatest human tragedy that is still writing itself.
And if you cannot weep for yourself then who can you weep for? Howl at the moon, slink down alleyways, bite that silver bullet, I'll pull all of the hair out of the bathplug for you.
It is joyous for me to ferry tissues for you all, to listen you to be there for you
only you cant be there for yourself and so I leave to find myself amongst the others, the others who have cracked. Who said, I just can't take it anymore? So fucking what Fuck off!
I'm going to grow carrots and yell at an empty sky. And that's the wisest thing I've ever done. Just press your ear close to the ground and be still. You can hear it. It's not the ocean. It's your own heartbeat.

Choose love not fear.
The time is now so please be here.
Our hearts can meet within this space.
You are a part of the human race.
Race is just a social construct.
But it still makes people become unstuck.
I finally figured out the great project.
Peace, unity, popping and locking it.
I am the beautified architect.
And I am no longer afraid.
Was crushed within my insect shell but hells now far away.
Because I gatekeep by being bedeviled.
The people, they laugh and they say I'm disheveled.
But they don't know their arse from their elbow.
Watching shadow puppets, drinking their lysol.
Until their insides corrode and their mouths become assholes.
Everything is backwards in your piece of shit world.
And it makes me furious, the evil unfurled.
Reject it, grow carrots, the grit IS THE PEARL.
I hope this tension turns to love.
I hope you find the space to look above.
At night you can see all of the stars.
In the peace of the darkness, the light of our hearts.
When fulgurations pierce like arrows.
My heart, my spine, my peace, my marrow.
Feed them all to the birds.
Bow to the flight of the frightened herds.
Try to show them that we're strong.
It's the world, not us that's wrong.

P.S

If you're voting in the UK tomorrow please remember the people like me who have suffered abuse from childhood. You can message me to learn more. I hold space for your misunderstanding and the pain you unconsciously inflict on others. Just be prepared to hold space for all of that trauma. I only want to live in peace and help people to understand what I've figured out.