conversations with loved ones

dear granny,

today was a hard day. my first day back since taking my berevement leave. nothing feels real... life has become an ever lasting cycle of production with no end in sight. I feel tired I feel overwhelmed I feel grief I feel loss I feel lost.

I feel I feel I feel,

a reminder that I am alive.

today on my way home from work I was slapped in the face with the harshness of reality , my day to day but this time it felt extra heavy extra real , extra hurt. I saw a woman sitting on a cardboard box... what I presumed to be her bed and shelter for the night. I saw a man happily eating takeout on the corner and another one eager to know what it was he was munching on ... I saw the desperation in his face and the pain when he realized he couldn’t have it. when I got off the bus on bush, I saw a man digging through the trashcan where I place the extras that I feel so guilty for wasting. I feel a since of gratitude that someone may be utilizing what I have not / juxtaposed I feel sorrow knowing that there are so many of us who live in surplus while others are fighting to survive.

today I took a walk and wrote a poem, trying SO hard to deal with the pain and grief held deep inside of me.

it said:

A heavy morning of mourning.

Death. Grief. Violence. Loss.

A gravitational pull of energy that comes from our core

Our soul,

ridden heavy with PTSD and trauma

Weighing down our communities

Almost as natural as the gravitational force that keeps us grounded on earth

Boiling. bubbling. Irrupting.

a natural occurring reaction that goes far beyond any single action.

Misunderstood violence.

that continues to go on in silence

A genoicidal war

right at the footsteps of our door

Still we look for more

eager to find a hidden door

turned on by all the gore

We dont have to go overseas to recognize there is a war

it happens right here on our soil

yet still no one knows what were actually fighting for

Instead we choose to ignore

Please, I cant do this anymore ...

...

what is war and who created it?

who controls it and who maintains it?

if war was a form of pain would we be able to name it?

or left with questions about the evil nature that supposedly explains it.

how long is war and how do we sustain it?

a war on each other is a war on ourselves.

internal pain that comes from years of abuse

a lack of the love that were so afraid to lose

so instead we exchange our lives for each other

sitting here tryna falsely blame one another

take a look into the mirror and suddenly the pain becomes so much clearer

a shadow self

the version of you created by everyone else

used as a distraction

to keep us all from peaceful interaction

heal ourselves heal each other

why cant we spend more time healing one another

—————————

my thoughts were heavy. it felt like all the dots were connecting. a web of pain. what it means to be alive in this society.... like I just don’t get it. why is it like this.

journal entry

5/28/24