There are black people jumping on top of cop cars. Cop cars on fire. There is graffiti everywhere : ACAB, BLM, BLACK LIVES MATTER, JUST LOVE, WE CANT BREATHE, PIGS. (later G tells me that this show of destruction will become the new “cool“ and will help encourage people to embrace radicalism)
The energy is happy and playful when there is no police presence. we are still getting used to the fact that what we are doing could get us hurt. for a moment, we feel indestructible. and then the sound of police sirens. a murderous signal. a decision of whether to stand our ground or run. twelve police cars. two fire trucks.
//
there are fireworks going off all day and night. i wince every time i hear them, my mind rememberes ths ound of rubber bullets fastre than it can register that im not there, i am home, i am safe. a couple of times, the sound throwsme off balance so much i cant continue what im doing. i have to completely redirect to feel centered.
the first night.
police everywhere and they wouldnt let us by. when we aksed why, one of them mumbled to themselves “cuz we said so“ and laughed. when we asked again, they told us that they “cleared the street.“ g and i were genuinely confused on what to do. there were no groups ou. there were two other people out and about thirty police officers. we decided to try to go around them. it took us about thirty minutes to find groups of people.we passed by men with their hands intherirpockets, taunting police from afar. the first group we found was at a standoff. we had as many people as there were cops. they were not letting us pass into the street. I tried to go around them and they blcoked me with my bodies- about 4 of them and they tried pushing me in the other direction with their bodies. i didn’t feel scared- I was desensitized. g came to me and so did another girl. they defended me and i ended up walking away. the cops changed direction and we walked past them in a line, most people screaming at them for being so hateful . How do you sleep atnight. I hope the benefits are good. i hop ethe pay is good. one of the officers responded cockily yes and the man got upset. we kept walking and eventully came upon a larger crown in the heart of downtown. no police. just a bunch of kids (mostly brown and black) laughing and having fun in their destruction. G and i laughed too. this wasnt angry, violent energy like the media would have you believe. these people werent thugs or opportunists. they were frustrated young people trying to send a message. on the first night, i saw cvs got broken into. people grabbed chips and soda and offered them to other protestors. people came out with full cvs baskets. and alcohol- mostly beer. there were some people in cars riding along, girls sitting in the window of cars singing and laughing. they would play music loudy and follow the crowd, sometimes driving in circle to be a part of the beautiful chaos. we saw some tagging and one graffiti artist, but the buildings weren’t too reclaimed yet. we passed by a police car and some kids started to break into it. first they broke the glass with a ksateboard and then kept hitting it until they got in the car.they looked at the inside andonly found some license registrations. one kid grabbed the license plate off the car and strated cutting it with his knife as he walked away aying to himself “youre not gonna ned this anymore“. they ended uplighting the car on fire after a few tries and the fire grew so quickly. we liked that it was happening in front of such a rich hotel . i hoped it would make people scared/ g and i hoped they would have to evacuate. the security guards for the hotel watched us and did nothing. they were probably scared.
fireworks. from inside the cop car. fire and bright pink light simultaneously conbusting. it was beautiful. it looked like freedom.
a couple of minutes into the car burning, people shouted “its gonna blow” and ran away, creating a mini stampede.
g gave her backpack away to some guy who offered her twenty bucks for it. after a second, she told him he could just have it. “he needed it“ she said. and. then a ,miute later she laughed. “haha i just gave my backpack away“
the second day
p and a and i met at g’s
we laughed and joked we hadnt sen each other in so long and suddnely thiss was the thing bringing us togteher
we were anticipating, fear mixed with eagerness
we walked and it was quiet at first, we met up with some people on the way and p and i saw a d list celebreity we love
he encouraged us from his car we freaked teh fuck out
when we made it to beverly, about ten minutes from pan pacific, the protestors were already moving east. we decided to join them. they did the usual chants. a good amount of white people. signs. cars honking in support. we passed by a line of police officers and most people didnt react- one fo the police officers ()eblack ven gve a wite dude a fiat bump i was disappointed. this was not the energy i wante dto be around. once wemade it about two blocks. we were told by some guy to turn around- that we were supposed to be going the other way. we changed directions and passed by the same empty streets we had been walking down the past 10 minutes. i got more upset. no one was touching the businesses or stepping out of line. i felt small. womens mrchy. performative. people in fucking designer clothes, slutty outfits. p yelled “i didntknow this was a fucking fashion show‘ at the hwite girls who thouht it would be cute to wear louis vuitton to a protest. i was walking with my finger on my ... i was scared - about police and about the white sympathizers/white people who would come after me if i ... i saw a wall tagged BLM and i yelled to peaches “i want to .. there !“ as i broke through the crowd. i ran up to the wall and hurriedly … “ACAB“ in shaky, loose letters. two girls came up to me and tried to start a fight. the alteraction was short-lasting. they threatened me. i wish i had the enrgy to explain to them but they were putting lmy life at risk, recording me could get me killed. i remembered that. and i didnt incriminat emyself. a defended me, almost knwocnking the girls phone out of her hands. they finally walked away. when they were gone I shouted out of frustration “vandalism is a legitmate form of protest. it is peaceful. we are breaking the law right now by blocking traffic and they somehow view tagging as worse than that. i think its valid for people t not want to participate in destructive protest, but they are elistist. they pretend like their form of protest is more legitimate than ours. (because theirs doesnt thresten police- it doesnt threaten the system.) thats why the police were letting them do this. this is what thepolice want us to do. thats why tehy were gicing them fist bumps.“a few minutes later, we passed the same intersection, but the neergy was different. the police were trying to block it off. they were outside of their police cars, hands on their guns (rubber bullets) - we didnt know that yet- and they werent threatening to us. their energy was different, more scared. a woman started tagging right in front of them. i stepped in fornt of her. a white guy followed me.
then i started … on the concrete too. when an officer came up to me, the white guy stepped in front of me. i wasnt touched.
we got closer tp the police, people started throwing eggs. soe kids jumped ontop of a xop cAR. that was the sight tht frightened a lot of white people away. i watched them turn their backs on the poeple they were “protesting for“. i was disgusted andnot suprrised. the kids tagged ACAB on the car and lit it on fire. it was parled on the corner of a gas station and that was kind of hilarious and unintional. they found another car and jumped on it too, cracking the glass, and tagging it more.
the police radio’d “we are surrounded.“ a few minutes lter, we watched as they timidly got in their cars and left. they were outnumbered. we cheered.
we walked down the street. another cop car on fire. a tree on fire. a bit more tagging.
when we walked back to the corner, i aksed osme white people to mke space fpr poc. they moved- it was nice. they agreed “youre right. tht space should be for blacks and latinos. thank you for letting us know.”
a black man stood ontop of the charred cop car with a signn that read ::
later, he told the crowd:”i dont want to die”
we wnet bak to gs drank some coffee had some apricots, went back to fairfax to pick up gs friendwho got tear gassed. there were hundreds of kids on the street, with fiercer energy than before. mattress and sofa blcokades. they were throing water bottles at the cops from afar. we parked the car and got out. the police were advacning at that point . shooting at kids who were running, kids who had their backs turned. one o f gs friends yelled “i got hit!“ and we ran down an alley in a residential neighborhood. the police pushed us off melrose and ended up creating a huge group of people who had no police presence. kids used a sledgehammer and shattered the glass oc a bank. we saw a rock garden and we got so excited. we filled our backpacks- none of us had weapons. someone joked “when the city arms you…” we laughed. a funriture store on the same street. we cheered. cars honked at us in approval. they slowed down besideus and encouragedus. the honking wa exciting, rewarding, validating. thepeople honking were mostly older, generation or two above us. parental love.
we drove around for a bit, passing by mariachi plaza, honking t all the people proesteting. we drove by the lpd headquarters and noticed that all of the structure was made of glass.
we walked back to fairfax andwitnessed cars creatib=ng smoke with their tires, skateboarders in the middle of the street, kids breaking down windows of almsot every shop. they were very excited about one vintage store- it was hard to break into, which made it even more exciting. “minority owned“ on a restrauaunt window and no one touche dit. the owner came out and said “the police department si the most evil in the world. the la police department.“
kids garbbed clothes.no bags to put them in. it was a little more frantic, it was geting darkerker bbut it wass till day time. the in-between made it feel like a fever dream. some kids started running. we ran ino a residential neoighborhood again. met up with our friends who were peeing in an alley.
that night,g’s frined makes commenst that hurt me and i absorb them. he later apologizes to g and tried to be better. that night before i left, g made us tea. big mugs and a bowlfor the tea bags. i took one hit off a joint that she got for free and i feel deeply calm.
day 3
we drove to lb and police were slowing down traffic, we took the streets the rest of the way. when we got there, police were blocking off the street and we went around. we met up at an intersection with people constntly leaving. i walked up to the fromnt with g and c. c , at that point, still thought that their brown skin would protect them. we were sitting there peacefully for a while, there was a lot of conflicted direction. someone shouted “you are yelling at the wrong people. they are not in charge. we need to go to city hall.“ and soemoene yelled back “they have a choice! they have a choice to not follow orders.“ we periodically sat down, pleading with the police to take a knee for the death of geroge floyd . some people thre bottles from way past us, they landed at the front of the crowd most times, but the police still shot at us regardless. we screamed at them “don’t shoot!“ I screamed “they’re thrwoing water bottles at you and missing! you’re not hurt!“ there was a black man almsot touching the police, he stood very powerfully and did not move. he looked shaken, like he was absorbing all the anxiety of the crowd in his body along with his own, but he was unwavering. i stood close to him. i ws afarid that they were going to drag him away, he was so close. i stood up and we were pushed forward naturally by everything going on. g noticed the cop in front of us was avoiding eye contact. i didnt notive yet they all were- a tactic to dehumanize us and block us out. “why arent you looking us in the eye?“ g said. I followed. “why arent you looking us in the eye? are you scared of us? we are so scared of you. we are terrified. everyday we are scared that you are going to kill us. “ I started crying
are you gonna let them hurt us? if they try to hurt us, will you stop them? “
“i cant hear you“ he said
“yes you can“ said g “yes you can. look at me.“ he looked.
“are you gonna hurt us?“- g . he mouthed “no”.
they shot into the crowd. “why arent you stopping them? tell them to stop! they are hurting us and you are watching! why did you become a police officer? “
“was it to protect us? you only protect the people who pay you.“- g
“do you have a family? do you have kids? do you want to have kids? if you had a daughter, would you want her to be like me? standing up for what she belivees in? if she was in this crowd, would you let them shoot at her? would you do nothing? “ he started crying. “I am 19, I am a college student, i have parents, I have a family. I have dreams. I want to be an artist.” he looked at me.
“are you crying?“ g. i laugh, but then realize shes serious.
“i know you’re scared. we’re not going to hurt you.‘ i screamed over the broadcasted message and over the sound of bottles hitting the ground.
one of the other cops looked over and smiled at the one crying.
they noticed that some of the guards were getting softer towards us and they put more guards in the front near them.
when people threw things from far away, they would shoot people close to them in the crowd. they aimed near c twice and c dodged. c came to the front with a sign someone gave them. one of the police officers who looked at me and said quickly and angrily “just fucking leave!“
one of the officers took c’s sign and flung it to the back. c was furious and hurt and started screaming, g and a few others held them back from getting too close. this officer was my least favorite.
the police came and blocked off another side of the street. we walked towards them and they pointed their guns at us. we screamed “dont shoot.“ and walked closer. a young black girl walked back and forth in front of them gracefully, almost grazing them. her walk was gentle. another black woman faced us and screamed “BLACK LIVES MATTER.“ her voice gave soul to the chants she started. a black man got close to the line and they shoved him with a baton. they shoved c and c fell to the ground. the officer swung his arm back with it and c grabbed on. a second later, they realized they were resisting and they let go. I stepped in front. the officer did not touch me. we decide to move out, some people throw fireworks at the police but it landsin the crwod. g and i ran. c says the noise was deafening. we move through downtown long beach and there are cops a few hundred feet behind us. we weave inand out of the streets, a lot of people are walking on the sidewalk. we yelled at them “get in the streets! get off the sidewalk! you cant protest from a sidewalk!“ people eventually join in the streets and we walk through residential neighborhoods. we look behind us. the sky is getting darker and someone just started a fire at theback of the group. we yell and shout with excitement. g gets a message that says the lb chuck e cheese is on fire. we yell more. c is starting a lot of the chants, they are losing their voice. we see people shouting support from the windows and sidewalks with signs. they yell and we yell back, semi-angrily for them to join us. they don’t and we brush them off.
we have to get everyone to avoid the police barracade they are creating a few blocks down. (g saw it on her police scanner) its hard to get people to listen. i loathe giving direction because i dont want to occupy the space of a black person, but a lot of the protestors are directionless.this seems like their first protest. a lot of them don’t repeat chants and they keep going on the sidewalk. eventually, they come closer together and g says “this is the most beautiful thing ive ever exerienced“
g tags something and a black girl says “yes white girl!“ g is confused at first but they clarify that they support her
we walk down the street and see police.. we move closer to them, attempting a standoff. people from the way back throw water bottles and mostly miss. the cops shoot at us. (g later notes they are no longer starting with tear gas and escalating immediately to shooting) someone from the middle yells “don’t be a pussy- if you’re going to throw something, go to the front and throw it!“ at our protestors because we are getting shot at because of tehir wtaer bottles. we yell “don’t shoot!“ they chant “peacefuul protest“ but the sound of rubber bullets persists.
a protestor breaks the line and moves closer to them, sits on hiss skateboard, staring.
someone yells “white people to the front! form a line!“ and they do. I go because I am light-passing and a few minutes with my hands up near the front of the standoff (still 20 feet away from the nearest officer), I cant help but look back at al lthe white and light-skinned people at the back and feel wronged. i am poc but mylight skin protects me. i am hurt that there are white people who don’t use that advantage.
they start moving forwrad and shooting. people in the back run. people in the front stay standing with their hands up. I keep my hands up, but try to move my body behind the sign of the person next to me.they shoot me and i clench at my stomach in shock. i cant remember if i screamed. i turned my back and i walked away slowly,, still processing the bullet i was anticipating. c yells “v!‘ and runs towards me. “I’m okay“I say, still not running. c puts their arma round me then the cops shoot their leg. c screams in pain and drops to the ground. they cant get up, they cant walk. the cops are a few feet away, still shooting so a couple people carry them. someone asks me fi im olay and i say yes. people start bringing out first aid kits and i lift up my shirt. its a half circle mark on my stomach and its bleeding, but not badly. it feels sore. c starts cleaning my wound for me. my hands are dirty and someone is getting out sanitizer for me. a guy puts gauze on me, i am kind of glitching. i lift up my shirt and he puts it on it for me, tapes it for me. i am still processing, moving too slowly. c is still sitting in pain. their wound is internal, their leg swelling as i got cleaned up.
police start shooting at us. we yell “first aid! first aid! we are administering first aid!“ and they keep coming towards us, shooting. we get up. we walk into an alley and g syas a car is coming to get us. we pop into the parking lot of an aprtment complex and a hwite man comes out to ask what we are doing. g explains that we are hurt and they are giving u sfirst aid. he is dismissive but says “oh thats a different story.“ a few minutes later c and i are joking about our wounds and i hear a voice around the corner say he “has a tazer“ and i want to cry. the man came back and their skepticism turned to preparation for violence. g says she will go talk to him and she does,they leave us alone.
c drives me home. they stop in for a bit to ice their leg. we sit on my bed, both in shock. my brother joins us, makes us laugh.
day 4
I get sleep for the first time in a few days. i open my eyes, still in the same awkward sleeping position because my wound is on my side, and I start crying because I think about the police hurting c. I watched the police abuse them, and I didn’t fight back. I tell myself i didn’t do enough and I believe it. My thoughts: “Thy hurt thm and I couldnt do anything. I couldn’t protect them.“
Emergency alert: LA curfew is now 6 pm-6 am.
i am walking slwoly around the house becuse my wound makes me feel weaker and knowing that makes me feel mentally weaker too. i am processing the the fact that they hurt me. I obsessively look at my wound even though it doesn’t hurt that bad. it’s swelling more today than yesterday.
I meet up with c at curfew. we eat food and talk about what we went through. we unpack it in different ways. they can barely walk, but i can.
i call p and tell her that i am disappointed in our friends who are not protesting. specifically our friend h who, for years, claimed to be radical and revolutionary. that friend has class and skin color privilege. i cry at the fact that even though im not friends with them anymore, they arent doing what needs to be done. they arent rsiking anything for black lives. they are letting other peopleof oclor do the work while they watch the news cycle at home. “I am so, so angry at them. And I am hurt and sad. Their skin color wuld protect them. they would be fine. “
c and i both fall asleep in different rooms of my house.
when c wakes up, they say: “you’re still thinking of going out aren’t you?“ I tell them that I am still able-bodied and feel like I have to. I need to be on the frontlines.
they tell me my life matters. they tell me im special to them and special just as a person.
I respond: “My life is not more important than anyone else’s.“ I am crying. They give me a hug. “They hurt you and it’s not okay.“ I think about burning the police alive thinking bout how they hit them, but i dont tell them that. my violent thoughts are rooted in sadness and pain and i don’t want to put that irrational energy out there while were still healing.
I think about when MLK said he “does not have a martyr complex.“ He “doesn’t want to die“ and neither do I. I think about how i do not want to die, but i want to be out there on the frontlines and i know that means I potentially could. it’s a contradiction im getting used to.
c convinces me to stay. it’s hard but iknow they are telling the truth. i need rest so i can go back out there stronger. i think about how that is a privilege not everyone has.
we fall asleep after watching a movie and a half. their friend messages me on signal. my childhood best friend texts me for the first time in weeks.
day 5
i wake upp and my wound is pussing. i havent been cleaning it the past few hours and i fell asleepwithout a gauze. when i put antiobiotic cream on it, it pusses more. c is worried for me. keeps trying to convince me to go to the doctor. they tell me i am being stubborn. (I am) I want to go back out without having to go to the doctor- I dont want to “waste time.“ they tell me that i need to take care of myslef and that i wouldnt be wasting time. my voice breaks “i hate that im still inside. there are borwn and black people out there getting hurt and i should be out there. “ they talk to me for another thirty minutes or so off and on about how i should get it checked out; i tune them out. in my head, i replay the image of them getting hurt and imagine it happening to them again,and to other dark-skinned people. the guilt is making me shaky, irrational. i keep crying openly, i dont reserve myself like i usually do. my friend tells me they need soem love (over text) and we call for an hour. they cry. I telll them “you are not a burden. You are generous and funny and kind and sweet. those are all things that make you uniquely you. i love you for who you are, not for the fact that you make me feel happy or confident or self-assured. “
i text p for a bit. not as presently as id like. im worried baout my wound at this point. i tell c ill get it checked out, but at home, i decide to take care of it mysef. im snapping out of the mentality that i dont matter, so i have the energy to actually heal and take care of my physcal form. i shower for the first time in a week. i brush my teeth. i eat lunch. i hat ethat my mentality was the thing preventing me from getting better nd i realize this as my wound feels better with attention.
i cry a lot in my brothers room. im checked out. he asks me why im crying and i realize that im putting my emotions on display.
I listen to music
I cry some more, but not too much. I realize that love songs resonate
i think about burning the love letters i wrote cindy
day 6
I wake up at 5 to meet g at court support
I got 4 hours of sleep, but I feel functional
I meet her and she’s dressed cute, in lavender and corduroy and wearing big vintage glasses (I forgot she wears contacts)
We wait at the police station and no one is released for the first 30 minutes so we sit on the curb facing the station
We talk about our discomfort, the complacency we’ve witnessed, we talk about being in love, we talk about relationships. We see the sun come out and we sit in it. I ask her if she’s getting any and it reminds g of her friend India. We laugh and we see dogs that make us feel happy. We haven’t talked like this in a long time.
I tell her I love Cindy and g says that “I think you love Cindy too. And from what you told me, i think they love you. It’s just about time.”
No one is released.
G can’t stop thinking about peeing in a police car “I would do it” she says. She thinks that driving a car that smells like pee would make the cops mad. She shows me pics of protestors on horses.
We listen to music in the car on the way to my house. It’s the first time we’ve heard music in the car in a week. It feels good
I get home and fall asleep. I wake up at an okay time.
i try to order thai food and it takes me twp hours. eating a full meal is self-care so i take it seruously. i offer to buy cindy some and then to buy them indian food but we both get distracted. i head over to g’s while she’s napping. the door to her apartment is open but im shy and intimidated by her housemate so i stay outside and try to plan what im going to say to her housemate when i come in. i peak open the door and see arson, g’s cat. i knock on the door quietly then step in. i ask sav if g is sleeping and she says she thinks g headed out but that i could stay. she introduces me to her friends and i feel more shy. i figure g is sleeping in her room so i check real quick and see g and r asleep messily on the bed. from the way theyre sleeping, they look tired so i leave them for thirty minutes or so before calling g. g and i head to city hall by train and we get tired quickly. g didnt eat yet (she only had the squidward-looking huevos rancheros rebecca made) in the morning. after walking for a bit, she tells me she feel snauseous and akss if its okay that we head home. i say of course and we head back just as curfew is starting. we hear sade on the train, sweet home alabama next. i see someoen i have a crush on, having feelings reminds me of my feelings for c and i swallow them- i swallow evrytjing non-political.
when we are walking back from the metro to g’s we see the couple that was playing music on the mtro walk uip to thenationa lguard. the officers are petting the womans dog and she takes a picture with them.
when we get home, r agrees to cook for us. g and r have little arguments over small things- corrections g later explains she makes because she is an optimist and wants things to be as good a sthey can be. r cooks chicken and brussel sprouts and bell peppers and isrea;i salad. in the span of thirty minutes, i learn that shes queer, part jewish, part brazilian, her mom chose her sperm donor because he was part jewish. i feel like i learn a lotabout her and she knows so little about me. g pokes fun at the veggies r malkes, but then ends up eating a good chunk of them because she thinks theyre good. i remember how i miss cooking and caring for people. r reminds me of that aspect of myslef and i appreciate it.
g and i fall asleep in her bed and r on the couch.
day 7
when i wake up, i think its raining.it feels kind of magical. there is no rain in the sky. its g’s neighbors fountain.
i look over at g and she is awake- which im surpised by. i thought she was sleeping becaus ehe renergy was so calm and still. when r wakes up, she comes into g’s bed. g talks about moving, about the things she has to do today. about how she impsulviely left her belongings on the curb at 3 am because sh eflet like sh e had too much stuff. “I want a big brekafast“ is one of the first things she says and i manifest it. i miss making and eating breakfast with my friends. “Im stinky“g
“you know what to do“ r says, hinting at g taking a shower . r does an accent that sounds like a vampire to me
we laugh, i laugh. everything is light and cute and i miss this. g and i get ready to go to the store as r has her class. i ran out of gauze so i go with my wound uncovered. its kinda gross. on the way there, we talk about our feelings for the people we love. there is a lot going on for us and we are still retaining that emotionality and vulnerability that makes us inexplicably human. i tell myself that its okay to have feelings durng this whole thing. the fcat that g has them too helps.
when we get home, i cut honeydew and white peaches and make avocado mash with lime, salt, and papper and garlic. i make beans that dont tast egood to me. g makes a really good smoothie. this is the cutest breakfast ive ever had. coffee too.
after breakfast,i call peaches and i sit on the step in the sun and talk to he runtil my phone dies. a d og comes and gives me attention and i get really happy. g is taking a shower and im texting c and i miss their voice so i ask if i can call them. we talk for forty minutes and i dont catch myself-i let myself feel the love i have for them. its present even in a phone call about yogurt and posssible plans. they tell me not to romanticize the platonic care they have for me and i get hurt. i dont adit it, but ,y voice shifts and i feel closed off. i start to get anxious, thinking about the fact hat they solidified the fact that they like me platonically and im living in a world where they could be in love with me too. this is a strak contrast and i dont wnat to love in fantasy anymore. g describes how whenshe feels sad, she feels comelled to act- to changesoemthing to fix the sadness and make it go away. i feel like the opposite. i sit with mmy feelings for a long time without doing anything. i have an anxiety that makes me uneasy, it could partially be the coffee.
i call c again.this time i tellthem that i need spaace fromthem.tht i almost never create bundaries so when i do,they are really reallyimportamt and i allready violate dmine and i cant keep doing that.they get angry. they dismiss it and i ask them to tell mehow they “reallyfeel.“ they start to view me as the other peoplewho have fallen in love withthem.i feel unspecial and i wish they would ask for affirmation or clarification of the situation, but they dont. they say that “they dontknow if i can handle it“ but then realize that they are projecting. we end the callkinda cold. they say that imnot being there for them when they need me the most. they invalidate my feelings a bit. this conversatin created the distance that might have saved our friendship.
g and i sit at the table with her friends. we talk about our ntentions and our safety, what we are comfortbale with. we talk about rhwtoric and radicalsim. we head out to cuty hall.
on our way there, we see a couple fighting. we observe them from the car and i start to jump out of the car without saying anything. g syas :”v wants to get out.” and has the driver stop. g comes with me. i approach the couple with my mask off. i perform femininity as atool.
a man stops us and ocmpliemnts our group aura. we all feel really good about it because we had spent time checking in on each other’s boundaries.
there was music- corny and uplifting. brown and black joy so evident. it mad emy heart warm. later in the night, i told them what chey had writtena bout- about blackness being joy not just pain. how seeing brown and black joy had been so comforting and empowering. it restored hope and energy.
we dance for a bit. some people take off their masks. i (admittedly) do too for a few minutes. people are smiling and laughing and dancing. they cheer on a scrawny white boy dancing flamboyantly in the middle. “go white boy!“ over and over.
we move away from the crowd and try to find people tthey heard the police were talking about on the police scanner. we see a couple of people who could pass as undercover cops. i feel my emotions shift back into skepticism and hesiation- slight hostility. i am agitated that i have to remmeber not everyone in the crowd is with us. al warns the people bout it and they thank him. we move back to the center of city hall and listen to speeches taht are muffled by the microphone annd mask combo. a girl in the crowd starts screaming- her voice is breaking. she is crying wjile she gets out her words. she starts saying tehy’re going to hell and taht they’re going to burn. someoen gives her a megaphone. more cops come out. some oficers of the national guard. she is about 10 feet from the blockade and i am in awe that these armed men are so afraid of this black girl’s pain and rage. she comments on her own age: “i know you think it’s funny- oh im just some little girl.“ she continues to scream at them. a tthis point, there is a small crowd forming around her. her emotions are unifiying.
we start to march. g and i get really excited. we were boxed in on both sides for bit, but the cops moved and we start heading east. the guy with the genrator and speakers moves with us, pushing it on a shoppping cart. i tell g that i wish we had protection from cars in front and in the back at all times. i start mentally startegizing ways to keep us safe, wyas to keep the police away from us. g points out that cars joined right after i said that. i smile at manifestation.
we walked a coouple of miles and at one point, we stopped. the people at the front wanted to pray. so we stopped. blocked off an entire intersection by kneeling at the crosswalks. they prayed. i relaized that it felt male-dominated. i dislike the way sexism overwhelms moevements. i felt slightly uncomfortable. a few minutes later, cops showed up down the black. one black boy emerged and said that he would “take the fall “ as he walked away from us. we were being peacfeul and linking arms and i wondered why this black boy had a martyr complex- to approach police by himself and separate himslef from our communal protection. i sensed power hunger. blurring rationality. he comes back and tells us to split up the group. we are alreday small and we dismiss him. a black man interjects “dude, you need to think militaristcally“,
we laugh at that comment. its true.
we walk through the tunnel on 2nd street. we scream and it echoes. a friend … something. the skaters ride fast in a line on our left. i tell g :”I wantthe skater boys to teach me how to do an ollie”
g:”me too” and we giggle. we mimic her housemate who acts boyish to cover up her misogyny. we talk like bros for a second beforedissolving back into the neergy of the tunnel. i love the colors i see when i look back. i want to take a photo but i decide not to. this moment is beautiful and untouchable and i cannot capture it with a photograph.
we walk for a few more blocks and g lets us know she is tired. weve all been walking for miles and have started to feel it. we decide to head back to the car and soem people follow us, thinking we are diverging from the group. the girl who policed my friend who was.. admits she is a.. artist and apologises, explains she just wants people to be safe. we drive to in n out and there is a golden lab pup that looks like its ordering food from the car window. we get home with in n out and they go oout to savs roof. i make toast, eat it in a rush, clean my wound, and join them. we talk about next steps, about finding a space that we can make our safe meeting place, about what we can do better. i talk about the black leadership that emerged that we need to embrace and help support.
g makes tea for us when they leave. again- one bowl, two big mugs. fruity. we decompress. she get scritical of her friends who were being silent/ not present. i ask her if she is an optimist. she circles around the question, first talking about her pessimism, eventually landing on the fact that, yes, she is an optimist. she explains that that is where her criticism comes from, from a place of wanting things to be as good as they can be. i am happy that she affirmed herself in that. she didnt want to feellike a bitch and she isnt one.
she talks to me about vulnerability, about my comment: “c has walls disguised as boundaries.“ g asks me “what about you?”
i ask “what about me?” and she says “your mind haha” i start to talk about vulnerability, how it fluctuates when someone is closed off, how i become less authentic whne someoen is afraid of being vulnerbale and how i am aware if that and trying to prevent it. italk about the friendships and relationship sthat i go after. i talk about how i value vulnerability and intimacy above all else. and how i am not interested in surface-level relationships.
g syas we can deal with the mess in the morning and so w eleave it. beer cans and tea cups and crumbs.
i go to the couch but then hate the texture of the blanket and the couch itself so i go over to g’s bed, r sorta wakes up and i ask her if its okay if i sleep nect to her. sleepilu, she says “of course!“ then returns to her sleeping position. i crawl into bed and it’s warm from her body heat.i fall asleep quickly.
day 8/ june 7
i wake up in the bed alone and can see g walking around in the other room. i slowly walk into the kitchen ,expecting to see the both of them drinking coffee or something but its just g alone. r went to go get a covid test. i can sense that she wants to be alone so i think of things to say that arent intrusive. she asks me what my plans are for the day. i tell her that i want to shower at my brothers and get super clean. she has a similar plan. she says she still feels dirty despite showering everyday. she also says she hates showers.
i ask her :”how does it feel having me and r here for the past few days? i now youre a very independent person who needs personal space”
she answers that she does need personal space, she thanks me for asking. she says tht she is going to clean today and take a break from signal. i start washing dishes as she starts cleaning the table.
r gets back and she is wearing gs clothes. g makes fun of the fact that r had told g she didnt need the shirt that she was wearoing. i make a mental note that i miss real cothes and that i want to wear them the next time i see them.
i get home and i watch a doc on marsha p johnson? the one veryone tells me not to watch because it rips off a black trans filmmaker, but i do it anyway because i dont have the energy to educate myself via reading
day 9/june 6
stephanies dads birthday
i get a pimple
i send c a link to mental health resources, i want to text them but i dont
i eat a lot of tortilla chips
i try to do curation work but it feels wrong, i feel unsure
i download tinder and feel better alrady.
i listen to sad msuic and get in my feelings, i wake myslef up with the next song. i fee really, really tired.
i text c after i take a nap. my anxiety and my fear of abandonment and my 6 cancer placemenst jump out. I text them :
“Hi! I’m sorry that I so quickly turned to distancing myself from you as a way to maneuver the situation. I know that it’s triggering for you and I don’t want to make you feel alone in this.
I still need to advocate for myself and be there for myself, but I know that I can also compartmentalize what I’m feeling and heal in different ways that will allow me to be there for you too. I spent yesterday thinking about that and I feel better.
I know that you need space too. I am here for you when you want to talk. I love you and care for you and that hasn’t changed.“
I am proud of the wording even though i am disappointed in my submission- i always do this. i take a mental note of how i flip-flopped under pressure. of how they tested my need for control by taking control over the situation (in taking reactionary space from me) and i succumbed, of course. i still love them and that really, really hasnt changed. in conversations iwth myslef, i partially convince myslef it never will. i am still convinced they are in denial of their feelings for me.
i take a shot and it make smy chets feel hot- i dont like it.
i miss c.
day 10/ sunday june 7
i havent seen c in almost a week and i want to talk to them. theyre my friend. i made cinnamon and sugar toast for breakfast and i try to plan the brunch but i dont want to do it without them.
i develop a crush on someone on tinder and message them . i tell g and r i iwll make them dinner when they get home from preventing the eviction. i miss people so much.
i nap and wake up scared from the sound of a firework going off. i start messaging c. i told myself id message them afetr i finished the work i needed to do, but i didnt. i apologize, i tell them i love them, i tell them i can find other ways to heal besides taking space. they dont read it, but i see them posting. it doesnt bug me immediatey.
my brother takes me to my house and i kind of act like a bitch, like im super moody. and he helps me put my quilt on my bed. he plays with benji. i eat two packages of skyflake crackers. i forgot to eat so my hunger is making me anxious and upset- i take it out on him and feel bad while im doing it, but i feel out of control.
g and r pick me up in r’s mom’s car.
r says “hey babyyy“ and it makes me happy .
i give my brother a hug.
we drive to r’s house to drop off the car. there’s a skateboard in the backseat and i get happy again . “i like that theyre called goons“ r says about the people hired to bother the tenant they were protecting. while were driving, we talk about the tenant’s union, how the political revolution is affecting small situations like it, and the police being involved. while we talk, g misses an exit, gets on the worng freeway twice. i ask g what the tea is about her housemate and friend. she explains it to me and gets heated. she apologizes for raising her voice when she talks about it, but i didnt even notice and i think its funny.
we get to r’s house, we are gonna walk to g’s but then call a lyft cuz we’re tired. when we get to g’s, i grab my stuff and walk to ralphs. i listen to moon river by frank ocean for the first time in a while and it sounds ethereal- perfect. my next song is interrupted by a police car in the middle of the intersection. i get scared and take my earbuds out. police cars start going by incessantly. i count 14 police cars, 1 ambulance, a couple other cars that are probably undercover. i try to warn people in the chat but i dont know what direction theyre going so i leave it.
it takes me about thirty minutes to pick what food to make. its a dinner thats super similar to my moms cooking. tomato pasta with broccoli and portabello mushrroms.
i get back to g’s and it takes me a while to cook. the mushrooms are my favorite- fresh minced garlic, thyme, salt, pepper, oil, and lemon. while i cook, r talks to me about her day. i really like how educated she is. she talks to me about moral heirarchy and privilege and whiteness and i soak it in
everything else is avergae but its a hot meal and g and r are grateful. i didn’t go out today but i mentally note that making food for people who were out counts as soemthing.
g is tired and i am too. we dont go out.
we talk for a bit at the dinner table and then head to bed. r falls asleep with a book open next to her. i try not to occupy too much space. i see that c read my message and i decide to listen to music. the music puts me to sleep, i wake up with r turning off the light. we fall back asleep.
when i wake up, i give my usual “cancer voice“ good morning and so does r. her hair is reallyfluffy andmessy. in the moment,she reminds me of my high school boy crush.
we go to the kitchen and meet g and talk about our plans for the day. g asks if we have a “mood or general vibe.”
r and g talk about r’s housing situation. r gets kinda defensive, but simmers down.
r and i go outside to sun bathe. wheni crawl through the window, i see her laying there shirtless.i think its the coolest thing. i like when friendships have nudity be a normalized thing. after a few minutes sitting and talking with her,i take off my shirt too and god it feels nice. i cant remember the last time ive done this- if ever.
we talk about our first loves, our current situations with love, we talk about nurture and toxicity. she tells me about her year in france a bit. a whole year summed up in a few sentencesis alway funnnyto me. i tellm her about small town dyfunction- me and my closets friend dating the same two people.
r and g make breakfast - tacos with homemade salsa and i cut up fruit.g asks if i can cut the strabwerries smaller “cuz [shes] a baby“. i internally document that preference.
when we finsih, r and i go back outside for a bit. we get sticky and r leaves a gnarly sweat stain on g’s blanket. i appreciate r the more i talk to her and we bond over our vulnerability and nurturing sides. (shes a cancer venus- i point that out twice in the few days ive known her)
g goes on a walk to a store by herself. she knows that its good for her- a bit of personal space.
g leaves to go see her friend at the park. she takes long picking out an outfit. we talk about skate boarding and dying her hair. she wants to look “chic“ and hints at external validation. r says “you look hot!“ and i say “yeah you look GOOD“ and g smiles. she gets indecisive about her outift because she doesnt want to try too hard. we try to help her and she changes a couple more times. she says “ciao“ to us as she leaves. she comes back a few minutes later because she forgot her mask.
r and i order food. we havent eaten since breakfast and i forgot that its normal to be hungry after 7 hours of not eating. i got used to having breakfast and then not esting until midnight so i am corrceting that unhealthy behavior.
people come to drop off supplies and i get confused having it happen all at once, but its a good, funny, confused. i tell g baout it later and hse apologizes for not being at home (nothing to be apologetic for) because its so funny.
we eat and g comes back. a is with her. a’s friends come for a bit and we talk on g’s stairs for a bit. i feel aloof. there is academic language being thrown around that tuckers me out. i feel kinda funny not knwoing some of the words, concepts, revolutions that are being talked baout. i console myself by reminding myslef that i have revolutions in my blood, revolts in my skin, riots in my voice- my ancestor’s gift.
r and g and i talk about how we’ve all cried at the bottom of g’s steps. we talk about kidnapping g’s housemates’ cat that is basically g’s cat.
we give r a hug- she is going back to her mom’s house where she has to pee and poo in the yard.
g and i get a ride from a to the …. we meet with someone r knows from school. they tell us theyre late because they were fighting iwth their girlfirend. i secretly love when people air out conficts like that because its so real.. so i immediately vibe with them even though im quiet cuz im cold. i tell g and L that i wrote a 20 page love letter to my crush and L says “thats soooo cute!“ and i get giddy and wish i could show my crush.
g and i get slightly quiet cuz its windy and cold. g goes to pee and cops come tell us that “its not safe for [us] to be here“ becaus ethere are “methheads“ and “unsavory people“ and “gangs.“ i try not to look at them because im not wearong a mask and feel shifty shwoing them my face. they leave a little bit after g comes back.
more volunteers show up so ga nd i call a ride. we have to wait like 20 minutes and neither of us are talking even though we are chatter boxes. i disassociate really hard and realize whats happening and ocme back into reality. when we get in the car, thedriver is offput by what we were doing. later, he sees people in the street and says “maggots!“ g and i text ecah other in the back seat, laughing freely and soemtimes nervously at the shit he does/says. g is polite; wants to dispel his false characterization of how young people are.
when we get to g’s hse realizes she brough the rwong keys so we she has to get into her paartment via the roof. she fizes the ladder that slaying near her paartnent and hse climbs onto the roof- im still laughing at the driver calling us (indirectly) maggots- im distracted. g gets in and lets me in through the front door. g makes tea for us as i wait for my brother to pick me up. i finally see the label for the tea; it ha spomegranite in it. no bowl this time, so my tea gets very strong. g messes with her cat. i cut up some mango and give g my leftover sweet sticky rice.
day 11/ monday june 8
i get anxiety about the pandemic. i cry or a bit and then quickly make an appointment to get tested after talking to some friends.i cry thinking about isolating alone. my anxiety goes up and down, up and down. i anticipate that i am going to get swabbed up my nose and i am afriad it will make me have a nose bleed, which i find embarassing. my brother and i head there together, i dont eat breakfast because thats the rule. we wait in a car line for an hour and my brother is not happy about it, im kind of moody and stressed. he is convinced i dont have it, but i am convinced i do because i developed a cough thats worse than my normal one.
its my turn and they hand me a bag with a long swab in it. i freak out even more-thinkingi am going ti have to stick the long thing up my nose myself. the voluntter instructs me to swab my mouth for 30 seconds and i get SO HAPPY. i am relieved.
my brother has to count for me because i end up swabbing my mouth for 15 seconds instead. he thinks hes so funny today. on our way home, i ask him if we can buy frutas and he agrees.
i talk to the vendedor almost completely in spanish and for the first time, i dont have anxiety being faced iwth a language barrier. i remember phrases ste would use and i repeat them. “el ceviche es fresco?“ was my favorite because it was delivered in a way that makes sense in spanish more than it would if it was translated in english. i am so content. my brother and i play-fight and keep ordering fruits and ceviches and snacks for a good 10minutes.
when we get home, my brotehr and ste fight over who got the better mango and my brother steals ste’s.
at night, i begin to watch a documentary on the LA riots of 92. i am inspired by the violence and agressioneven though typically im a pacifist. i know that im being radicalized and i lean into it- it feels right. it feels ancestral.
i tell peaches about what i am learning in all caps. one of my old friends who is korean is fabricating reasosn not to go to the protests and i use what i learn to call them out- it does’nt align that well but its 3 am and im learnong and abssorbing so much that i use the new facts anyway.
day 12/tuesday june 9
g convinces me to not organize a .. of my own. “I know you have an incredible capacity to organize and build and I’m excited to watch you/help you use that skill set! there are so many ways you can do that“ she assures me. I watch the rest of the documentary.
i have a long text convo with p about her and her boyfriend’s dynamic and her anger.
“[He] needs to work on communicating. That is an essential- I don’t know how much longer you guys can function together if he refuses to communicate with you. You are also a very forgiving, flexible person and you may be drawing the attention away from where he needs to grow by being self-deprecating and self-blaming. I want you to stop taking on the things that he needs to work on as a reflection of you- you don’t deserve dysfunction. You deserve patience and kindness and empathy and gentleness and sensitivity. The way that you describe [his] anger makes it sound semi reoccurring, semi consistent. And you don’t deserve that. I know you have your own things to work on, but it is time to acknowledge where accountability needs to be had. You sound like you are being pushed into a corner emotionally and reacting out of desperation- I don’t want that for you, you deserve more.
I also see myself in you so much because of how forgiving you are. Everything tends to be “okay” after a conflict, even if it’s a bad one, a hurtful one. You forgive and pacify and don’t sit with things, you don’t allow things to be “not okay.” Sitting with your feelings can be scary and can foster resentment, but if you’re self-aware, allowing that hurt and sadness to stay can offer you clarity.
In those moments that you hurt yourself, it is traumatic for the both of you. But [he] will never be experiencing the worst of it- you save that for yourself. Allocate your energy back to the way that you were feeling, back to the things you were unpackaging. We need you in this fight and you putting those things off is not sustainable.
I love you. I need you (personally not just in the revolution). And I want you to be okay. What does your capacity for self-love look like at the moment? When did your self-love get sidetracked/ how will you love yourself again? “
I get my resukts back and im negative!!!
i text some friends my results as a means of celebrating. im relieved i dont ahve to isolate by myself.
day 13 wednesday june 10
i have to run to my house in b and when i get there, i start to feel very physiclly and emotionally hot , short-tempered. i go to b
i send c another text message.
day 14 thursday june 11
i watch malcolm x.
beach day
friday june 12
i watch malcolmx. i feel kinda glued to my bed. ive been feelin taht way for a few days.
i start talking to someoen i matched iwth on tinder who looks like a fairy.
i go to g’s at night. we joke about how we are stealing g’s cat again. we talk about having an exclusive book club, i question how many white people are going to be in it.
i step outside to call my brother back. i talk to him for 30 minutes and rpeeat myself probabkly 50 times. i cnt understand him and he says a lpt of things that are confusing. i am emotionally exhausted. i call my other brother and he is annoyed at the fact that i say i dont have the psace for this. hes been doing this for years and i probably sound selfish, but i want it to be known that im not in the right headspace- that this stuff fucks with me.
in the car, i take note of my discomfort. i have been around white people a lot the past few weeks and it’s starting to affect how i seem yslef. when we are walking, g slips and says that the cops wont bug us “cuz were all white“ and i know she didnt mean it, but i still question if there is erasure going on that im not aware of.
we show up in van nuys at the peak of the protest , unprepared. g ahs her contacts in when they deploy tear gas. she gets freaked out and can feel the warmth. i hear rubber bullets and cover my eyes. i read that the goggles werent shatterproof and os they dont make me feel any more comfortable.
one man sings and prefaces his songs with “this is what our ancestors used to do“
a notes that this is grounding, that he stops thinking when theyre singing and just focuses on the song. “its unifying“
g gives me practical advice on how to get over my romantic feelings. a lot of the advice is very real and very action-oriented. i can feel my emotional side resisting the logic she is sharing with me. in the car ride home, i listen to love songs that remind me of c. i think about the playlist we made together- how it holds so many of our favorite moments.
i cry about losing their friendhsip but assure myself i will be okay. i kow i will. this just hurts. and its so soon.
saturday june 13
i go with my brother to check in on al. hes at a motel and is acting very strange to me.
at the motel, al complains a lot. i am immediately frustrated. he complainsabout the bed sheets, about theshower, about the tv. he grumbles to himself. he talksin circles and doesnt answer questions when we ask him. he lies casually. being around al when hes like this reminds me of the ways he hurt me when he was like this in the past. i was a freshman/sophomore in college the last time we had full interactions. he was using my mom and she was letting him. i think about how far she’s come and i think about thefact that now that I am 19, i take on a role to be responsible for. my older brother. it annoys me. it hurts me.
we get breakfast at a place nearby. at first, al wont get out of the car so i get out and open his door and tug at him. he tell sme that hes “not 5 years old“ but hes kind ofacting like it. i tell himto “shut up“ and he gets out of the car. we dine in even though i am avidly against it becaus eof teh pandemic; w tells me “you'll live“. i agree. i tell him that “I’ll dinein but imgoing to be annoyed teh whole time“. thats the compromise and he agrees. w and i talk about garcetti and his bullshit statement that “the lapd does not use tear gas on protestors.“ i tell w about the mayor of minneapolis’ walk. of shame at a BLM protest. we laugh hard. my brother orders me “the best orange juice“ hes ever had and i smile at him, unimpressed when i take my first sip. part of me is fucking with him because i think drinks are stupid (i really only like water) but i also disagree with him heavily. their orange juice has crsuhed ice in it and i think thats the factor taking it to the next level for him.
side note: for years, the french cafe i sued to work at would advertise their orange juice as fresh squeezed until they got caught. it was from a literal carton. we were told to lie to all the customers and i used to do it all the time. i feel bad about it now, but damn that carton orange juice was good.
we drop off al at a hotel. he complained about the environement of the previous one, so my brother pays for a room at the hilton. i feel weird about it. i know al is taking advantage of w and i cant really do anything. we are all letting it happen.
we get home and i remind w that “I havent had to deal with this in years. the last time i had to, i was 15/16. its been almost 3 years and im still getting used to interacting with this brother who is basically a stranger to me.“ i feel bad for saying this. my brother w and i have only really gotten to know each othe rover the course of a few years and hes not a stranger to me.but al is. i know its true. whenhes on his eds, hes a nice stranger.when hes off his meds, hes a mean stranger.
i focus on self-care today. i make lists of things to do for myslef and the movement.
i get a message from my tinder crush!!!
g sends me resources about affinity groups
i see that c read my last messages. i know they havent responded but it hurts less. i dont think about them as much; their importance, their presence is fading.
i chat with tai (my crush) and feel giddy and cheerful. stephanie says she can tell “[Im] excited“ . “I am!“ I feel slightly embarassed im onmy shit again but im happy, removed, distracted.
sunday june 14
i wake up and i left my light on in my room again. so my eyes dont get to slowly adjust; i am bombarded with artificial light as soon as i open my eyes. i feel a little off. i go to the bathroom, wash my face. brush my teeth.think about my plans for the day- i want to take a shower to wash my hair because its dry and doesnt have any of the curls it usually has. plus, i miss my soft hair.
i watch the end of malcolm x. the end of the film has a seriousness that the beginning lacked. malcolm starts becoming aware of his own death.he prophesizes about it. he once was not afarid to die, but now im unconvinced. he loved his wife and his daughters and he was a great leader. a great speaker, a great person. of coursse, death would scare him. fuck you to any of the people who suggested otherwise.
i am a bit detached from the scene where he is shot- there is so much chaos and so much to process. i think back to the doucmentary i watched about his death and remember that in the doc, they pointed out that there were no police officers at the meeting place that day and there usually were. i remembered that the other people who were supposed to speak cancelled; i took in these details and tried to take in new ones as i watched one of my favorite activists’ death play out.
the camera panned on his wife crying over his body, demanding an ambulance for him even though he was dead. i started crying and crying and the scenes kept coming. i started thinking about what a gentle man he seemed like. the narator talked about malcolm’s smile. i kept crying. i thought about the fact that he wore glasses and if it werent for his reputation, i would think he looked kinda nerdy. i think about how this is humanizing to him. i think about attaching different ideas to him; he is caring, he is a family man, he is open-minded.
when the movie ends, i try to look for other things to watch but my first suggestions are other shows and movies that will make me cry. i wonder if this is unhelathy, to fill myself with so much sadness before going out into the world and facing more sadness. i decide to remove myself from the screen and check up on some mundane things. i have a package coming to LA that was at a post office in LA for weeks; the package is now in massachusets and i have no idea why. i try to find the movie Coco online. i feel guilty using c’s disney account but im also like.. “well, its coco and i deserve to watch this movie if i want to.“
w and i head to al’ hotel. i dont wnat to but i know it make sthings easier. both of them are very head-strong and imvery soft and malleable. i am a good middleground for the hashness.
when we get there,the room is cold and w turns on the tv. the noise is distracting to me. i am over-stimulated. we try totalk to al, to get him to take hs meds. hetalks in circlesto us. he blatantly ignores me when i talk to him. he ignores w.
i start saying his name again anad again to get his attention. i start hitting him with a pillow when he wont answer. i canfeel myslef lsoing my temper, even though hitting him with a pillow isnt the worst way to expresshow im feeling.
i tell him i love and care for him; i feel vulnerable, like my legs are going to give out at anysecond. he says im “not even around [him] that much,“ asif my love for him could be erased by distance or time. i decide to opne uphis meds and try to administer them t ohim mysef. i start laghing hard because i cnat open the pill bottle, i cant figure it out. it actually makes me laugh really hard because i disrupted a tense momemnt wit my weak arms.
we order burritos and bring one back for him.
i dance in the backyard.
i watch django with my brother
monday june 15
i wake up after 6 hours of sleep. i fall asleep in my headphones again. i get dressed in my nacklace andpink tank top, jean capris, and white boots. we go on a bread run. i call my mom briefly.
i try to record my spoken word to send to peaches but i dont like how my voice sounds flat in the recordings.
i read my yellow book.
i write.
i go in the backyard.
i let my braids out and tehy fall the way i like them to.
i think about c and how i love them. i love them in a way that feels new and pure. i evaluate thelove i have for them and compare it to the lovei had for my ex- there is almost no similrity. the love letter is now nearly 30 pages long.
i could never have written something that long for nic.
time passed. i disappeared.
yesterday c and i went to go look at rooms for rent in la. they ended up agreeing to rent a place and i took photos of them on that very importnat phone call. they told me how much i meant to them. they said that theres no way for me to ever know. and i resonate with that.
today peaches and i laid in bed all day, read some excerpts from her cult-looking book, talked baout restorative justice in context of sexual assaut, and about love and healing.