🔥181: karmic crescendo

TW

anxiety-riddled,

my head is a constant battle of sounds

and feelings crashing

like waves into each other;

interference scares me.

as does being out of rhythm,

missing too many beats — i am

conflict-averse but i am also

realistic:

i know that

sound travels faster

through solids and liquids

than through the air,

can be distorted

and interfered

into oblivion—

that when

push comes to shove,

whisper networks

can only reach so far.

choirs of screaming matches

between metoo advocates and rapist apologists

crescendos of nails 

scraped across a board

feel a bit too familiar

like listening to white noise and broken records on repeat

while scrolling through toiletpaperworthy nonapologies 

witnessing victims collectively crying in an orchestra of agony

and then be blamed for attention-seeking at best

of causing their own suffering at worst

although it pains me to listen to these tragic tunes

i find it amusing how so many mishear this collective choir as 

survivors celebrating with silly receipts in cancel parties

serving blistering hot tea sweetened by revenge - no

all this is anything but 

cathartic.

it’s to make people aware

that the same melodies are sung or screamed by those who suffered similar pains

and so that those of a similar frequency know

there are those who listen

that their voice matters

and we are not alone.

- karmic crescendo

20210315

153: Sleaze and Dank You!

3 decades old
and for every marriage and birth
i am reminded by obviously well-meaning people
that i am still behind;
that my value is depleting
  with my sagging skin
  with the layers of my chin
  with the lines around my grin
  with my shape being far from thin
  as my breasts reach my shin
  as my wrinkles keep on growing
  and endless other things
i should apparently be fussing about.

after all,
travelling solo
  and buying your own car
  and living in foreign lands
  and collecting awards and degrees
  and having contacts all over the world
  and working your ass of to pay off your loans
  and struggling against all kinds of inner demons
  and still breathing somehow
    are not achievements for women to be proud about
      when nobody wants you.

(haven't you heard, doll?
the age of your womb matters more
than the maturity of your brain.)

some friends say they miss their innocence when they were younger
but i am thankful of my decreasing ignorance
as i acquire firsthand pains and secondhand lessons
while bearing witness to my messups and glowups
that no one else had the privillege to observe,
and yet, i am still told
that my eyes are too cold;
that my 'resting bitch face' will only scare people away
but isn’t it an oxymoron?
because bitches are babes in total control of herself
and you can't be you're in charge if you're 'resting'

but at the end of the day, let's be real:
being unfazed while returning men's gaze isn't just a phase
it's a stance and a form of resistance
because masculinity is so damn fragile
so stop telling me to fucking smile.


2018-12-03 8.49pm

💜💜💜122: In a house with lacey white curtains

In our house with lacey white curtains
and a living room with flowers
- fresh, frail, framed, or fake -
laces and florals were expected
to be displayed at all times
in appearance, and in character.

In our house with lacey white curtains,
girls are to play with fashionistas, not action figures;
as if skirts and shields are mutually exclusive,
as if Barbies and Batmans aren't just dolls
with different styles and accessories.

In our house with lacey white curtains,
my ability to walk face forward in heels
with a dictionary on my head is more important than facing a heel
head on in a combat.

In our house with lacey white curtains,
my womb is reason enough to carry a life
but not to determine my own.

In my house with lacey white curtains,
I am not made of lace and flowers.
And my womb is my internal tomb.


2021-03-26 8.11pm

In our house with lacey white curtains
and a living room with flowers
- fresh, frail, framed, or fake -
laces and florals were expected
to be displayed at all times
in appearance, and in character.

In our house with lacey white curtains,
girls are to play with Barbies, not Batman;
as if skirts and shields are mutually exclusive,
as if Barbies and Batmans aren't just dolls
with different styles and accessories.

In our house with lacey white curtains,
my ability to walk face forward in heels
with a dictionary on my headis more important than facing a heel
head on in a combat.

In our house with lacey white curtains,
my womb is reason enough to carry a life
but not to determine my own.

In my house with lacey white curtains,
I am not made of lace and flowers.
And my womb is my internal tomb.


2017-09-16 7.11pm

---

In a house with lacey white curtains
and a living room with flowers
- fresh, frail, framed, or fake -
laces and flowers were expected
to be displayed at all times
in appearance, and in character.

In a house with lacey white curtains,
girls are to play with Barbie, not Batman;
as if skirts and shields are mutually exclusive,
as if Barbies and Batmans aren't just dolls
with different styles and accessories.

In a house with lacey white curtains,
my ability to walk face forward in heels
with a dictionary on my head
is more important than facing a heel
head on in a combat.

In a house with lacey white curtains,
my womb is reason enough to carry a life
but not to determine my own.

In a house with lacey white curtains,
I am not made of laces and flowers.
And my womb is my internal tomb.

2017-04-01, 12.18pm

(during Baraka Blue workshop at Rumah Khizanat)

posted from Bloggeroid