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Realizing I had been assaulted didn’t come in a rush or a sharp pang, but instead, like a dull ache that eventually demanded my attention. For months, I had tucked the memory into the recesses of my mind, packaged it in layers of justifications and denials, hoping that if I left it there long enough, I might eventually find the headspace to deal with it. It didn’t. It lingered. It whispered. The truth has a way of making itself known, no matter how hard you try to bury it. And one day, when it hit me, it came with a wave of anger I didn’t know how to contain.When I finally let myself hold that memory for what it was, the grief poured out in unexpected ways—on the walk home from the grocery store, while rinsing dishes, in the middle of an unremarkable Tuesday, or lying awake in bed. In those moments, I also began to see how I’d built walls around myself in all the wrong places, becoming hard and overprotective in ways that didn’t shield me but instead kept me from the very care I needed. In trying to protect myself and my partner from harm—real or imagined—I had unknowingly let my fear dictate the space we shared, making it harder for either of us to truly breathe or heal. Grief, as I’ve learned, is a shapeshifter. It doesn’t wait for you to be ready. It comes as it pleases, relentless and unyielding.At first, my instinct was to want justice. Not the kind that comes from courts or bars or cages. What I really wanted, if I’m being honest, was violence. I wanted the sharp, visceral satisfaction of seeing him hurt the way he had hurt me. I wanted accountability that felt as harsh as the harm inflicted on me. I wanted to unfeel the weight of what had been done. I wanted someone else to carry that weight for me. It’s easy to believe in abolition when it’s theoretical, when the hurt isn’t raw and personal. It’s much harder when the harm has landed squarely on you. Sitting with that tension—between my pain and my politics—was excruciating.

When I was a kid, I remember being completely immersed in something–whether it was building a fort in the backyard, reading a book my sister borrowed from the library, listening to ghost stories told by my brothers and their friends, observing strange insects, or sharing the wild fruits I foraged with my friends–nothing else mattered. These moments were so special to me because they allowed me to fully engage with the world around me. When we give our full attention to something, we can connect with others on a deeper level, build stronger relationships, and create meaningful work. Giving and receiving attention is a personalized experience, with each of us having our distinct guidelines. Some of us offer it abundantly, like water from a well, while others are more intentional about the things/persons they give their attention to, offering it only when it's truly needed and necessary. Similarly, we all have different needs for how we want to receive attention. Some of us want constant connection and interaction, while others need more space and independence. Either way, it's important to recognize and honor these unique needs, and it's up to us to navigate those needs in a mutually respectful way, rather than imposing our expectations onto others. When you have the time and headspace, I encourage you to read about Time Zone Protocols by Black Quantum Futurism, take a look at all the wonderful diy clocks folks have made, and reflect on these questions (and responses by others). There is much to un/learn from the history of railroads and the making of modern America, and texts on the weaponized concept of time by Rasheedah Phillips. Listen to the CKX Questions podcast, and time is a social construct by Alice Cappelle. Larissa Crawford shares some insights on her relationship to time and decolonization (and how it informs her work), and the importance of asserting our needs, expectations, and boundaries. – Thank you endlessly for reading! If this story resonates with you, please consider sharing it with a friend or two. ☕️ Ko-fi supporters get monthly little surprises. Take care.

Something that I've observed in myself and many of my close friends is the tendency to get caught in vicious thought loops when it comes to intuition, and to internalize criticism and perceived failures. You know the drill: something upsetting happens, and instead of allowing ourselves to feel the full weight of our feelings, we start to second guess ourselves. We tell ourselves that we're being irrational or that we should "know better" than to feel this way. "Maybe it's just because I haven't applied myself enough," or “If I had tried harder, things might have been less sucky.” Even though we know better, we often find ourselves assuming that we're the problem, and constantly comparing ourselves to others who seem to be doing better than us. In theory, the idea that people (us!) not putting in enough effort makes sense… for whatever reason, it happens, right? And that’s totally okay! But if we’re beating ourselves up about it, we’re likely associating failure with negative experiences and emotions. And it's something that I think people like us (who grew up in dysfunctional family dynamics) are particularly prone to. We're taught at a young age to suppress our emotions, believing our worth is based on accomplishments and that our needs don't matter, so we have a heightened fear of not living up to expectations. ““Well, my greatest fear was that I would disappoint all the ones I love, but I’ve been there and back, it’s not so hard when you can’t face yourself in the mirror,” –Coventry, Old Gray” Growing up, I experienced a lot of instability in my life and often felt like I was at the mercy of the circumstances around me. As I've grown older, I've come to understand the importance of following my intuition and making my own path. But the other big thing I've realized is that having an intuition about something is just the first step, and actually making things happen is a completely different story. For the longest time since going vegan a little over a decade ago, I have had a gut feeling that I would be a pretty good plant-based chef and baker. While that might be true, there's still a significant amount of effort and meaningful work required to make that a reality. I would need to put in more hours to improve my cooking and baking techniques (I have, in fact, made the worst curry noodle and still have not succeeded at making my own bread!), and gain experience in food service before I could even consider starting a cafe or a community kitchen. The same goes for any other career path or personal goal. Following through with the required process is often the most challenging part, and people tend to either underestimate or overestimate its difficulty. Some may be so intimidated by it that they never even try, while others may think it will be a breeze and feel overwhelmed as soon as they encounter obstacles. I slip and slide on this spectrum too (all the time!). But here's the thing: if you have a strong intuition about something, it's likely that it's worth pursuing, even if the process is challenging. Tbh, I hate it when people say, “…overcoming the difficulties is what makes the end result so much more satisfying and rewarding.” I cannot cope with any more struggles, living in a capitalist world is already a test of my endurance! In one of my earliest psychiatric check-ins, I learned how to identify faulty thought patterns and reframe them so I could strive towards my goals, with my intuition and determination as my guide. These days, I’m a little less fearful of failure and whenever I doubt myself, I take it as a signal that something may not be in alignment with my values and priorities, and they’re reaching out for my attention. I'm learning to take those moments as an opportunity to pause, reflect, and make adjustments where necessary. Instead of allowing doubt and fear to overtake me, I'm actively choosing to focus on my strengths and to be kinder to myself. I'm recognizing that ‘failure’ is not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of growth and learning. And as I've learned to be more accepting of unexpected setbacks, I've also learned to be more accepting of myself and my emotions, and everyone else in my orbit. Truth is, the pain from our past continues to affect us in the present, so, as adults, we question our own instincts. We get furious when we don’t immediately be good at something–we forget that we don't start out great at anything, and the process of transition from hard to easy involves a great deal of learning and practice. Even if something appears to be intuitive, the reality is that it is often the result of countless hours of experience. My intuition and determination might be guiding me to the right path, but how I approach things is largely dependent on the accumulation of knowledge, technical skills, and familiarity. Intuition alone can't carry me through. I wish someone had clued me in earlier on in my life that if things don’t go according to plan, I don’t have to agonize over why it didn’t work out. I can take a step back, reflect, and make decisions from a place of understanding and knowledge rather than a place of fear or uncertainty, and follow through from there. My ADHD (and queer!) audacity tells me otherwise, but this is something that I have come to appreciate more and more as I continue to pursue my goals in life. Of course, I still sometimes catch myself being too self-critical and it's just so cringe. But we’re all a work in progress, amirite..?

There is always a strange duality to January, that keeps me in limbo but also sets me free. My January was slow and (but?) tumultuous–so full of heartache and magic, it dazzled and fazed me. It wasn't particularly mind-bending but still a very precarious start to the year. ✨ Highlights from last month– • I published two bots on Mastodon; @flavorfulfeelings generates flavors for your feelings in stunning (sometimes questionable) color combinations, and @heartful disrupts your scrolling to reflect on community care and collective action to keep the revolution alive. • I wrote 17 new poems for a personal zine project. • I updated my website and Year in Review checklist. 💭 On my mind lately– I've been feeling a little weird about some stuff amidst the recent changes in my life–I've felt everything from excitement and growth to anticipation and wonder. But other feelings are more complex and opaque, like; • How do I reconcile the discomfort I feel with the thrill that comes with growth and change? • Will I ever feel truly comfortable and at home in this (perceived) new reality? It's all kinda confusing and bittersweet, you know? 📦 Discoveries– Read, reading, want to read– I completed 2/24 of my Read Harder Challenge! Right now I’m reading Postcolonial Astrology: Reading the Planets through Capital, Power, and Labor by Alice Sparkly Kat. I loved reading Vegan Burgers & Burritos: Easy & Delicious Whole Food Recipes for the Everyday Cook and The Vegan Matrix: Understanding & Discussing Privilege Among Vegans to Build a More Inclusive & Empowered Movement. Films– I watched Castle in the Ground, Still, Gozo, Lola’s Last Letter, Eat With Me, I Think We’re Alone Now, Housebound, and The Love Witch. I cannot wait to watch Tangerine (2016), In Between (2016), and The Watermelon Woman (1996). Music– I haven’t been to any local gigs or music festivals since the pandemic and I’ve really missed the energy and camaraderie. So I've been watching a ton of live streams like; Two Minutes to Midnight’s Splitsville EP 4 Livestream feat. Touche Amore and Circa Survive, Comeback Kid at Hellfest 2022, and The Story So Far at Ice House. It's not quite the same as being there in person, but it's been a great way to discover music/artists/filmmakers/record labels and experience some amazing shows from home. New favorites– The absolutely phenomenal Cassie Raptor. I could listen to Never Before Seen, Never Again Found by Arm’s Length and After the Party by the Menzingers (and watch the music video directed by Kyle Thrash!) a million times, and it would hurt as much as it did the first time. All the good stuff by Philadelphia’s Wax Bodega. Also, I highly recommend listening to The First Ever Radio Hour for more new music and reunion bands! Articles– • For over 19 years now, the Museum of Broken Relationships in Zagreb has been a repository of gifts given between former lovers. • JK Rowling is transphobic and there is absolutely no magic in Hogwarts Legacy. • Laziness does not exist but unseen barriers do! • Weird and quirky social media postings are not the liberating space that influencers and businesses make of them. 🔮 What I’m up to this month– • My friends and I are writing/producing a visual poetry performance and a zine about our personal experience with mental illness, abuse, sexuality, how growing up in dysfunctional homes affects us as adults, and how we have each had to navigate the complex and often challenging terrain of these issues. We're also raising funds to take our poetry reading on the road and reach more people. • Writing (coding?) new bots for Mastodon and Tumblr. • I’m making my own (recycled) paper again and I’m also working on a secret project that involves a lot of art-making!

You know that old adage, "there's no such thing as a free lunch"? Well, I'm here to tell you that I (dis)respectfully disagree. Because, in my experience, there are absolutely such things as free lunches. Like, when my best friend surprised me with a picnic at the beach on a lovely afternoon. Was there any catch? No. Was there any hidden cost? Not at all. It was just a fun, unexpected treat. Or how about the time a stranger paid for my coffee when I didn’t have enough cash? No strings attached, no hidden fees. Just a small act of kindness that put a smile on my face and got me through the rest of a very difficult day. Then, there's this one night, a good friend showed up at my apartment to gift me this really cute flower-shaped mug, simply because! And all the times my community, friends, and I cooked, baked, housed, and supported each other in different ways without expecting anything in return. Sure, there are situations where things that seem "free" come with a catch. 19th-century American saloons used to offer a free lunch to patrons who bought a drink. On the surface, it seems like a great deal, but let's be real here, there was always a catch. They'd load up the buffet with salty snacks like ham, cheese, and crackers, knowing darn well that it would make you thirsty and want to buy more beer. It's f*cked up. It's a classic example of how, in our capitalist society, even something as basic as food is used as a tool to extract money from us. In the context of our current political system, where a small group of wealthy individuals and corporations hold disproportionate power and influence, it's clear that some people are eating quite a few free meals! The oligarchy that governs us ensures that the rules are written in their favor, allowing them to accrue even more wealth and power at the expense of the rest of us. The myth of meritocracy, that anyone can make it if they work hard enough, is just that: a myth. The game is rigged, and the oligarchs are the ones reaping all the rewards. It's what keeps us trapped in a cycle of constantly working and consuming, never truly able to break free from the daily grind. It's easy to get caught up in the cynicism that comes with the notion that "there's no such thing as a free lunch.” It can make us suspicious of every offer and every gesture, and it can make us think that nothing is for free and we always have to look for the catch. After all, much of our world is engineered to lure us into fleeting pleasure, at the expense of our overall well-being and vitality in the long run. I’m cautiously optimistic that we’re getting better at telling the difference and revolting against it. “Our life as we knew it now belongs to yesterday Inside all the love and hate, we can now regenerate Stop how we'd been livin' every single day –Purge the Poison by Marina, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land.” But there are also moments of pure generosity, where something is given with no expectation of anything in return. Not everything in this world is transactional–gifting and sharing our joy is our basic instinct, but capitalism has twisted it into something mercenary. Free lunches really do exist, and they can be wonderful things. – 🗒 My newsletter is now hosted on Postcard. I migrated from Substack because I wanted a way to stay connected with you without the trappings of social media, and Postcard is it.