Welcome to the last year of this textual/visual diary. Exploring words, spaces and aesthetics. 

HURTS

HURTS

Today hurts.
Or it's just confirmed that every day hurts
When you look at the colour of your skin
Your country of origin
What you believe in
And your sex
And they all scream:
you are not enough.
You are not equal. 
You are not worthy.
You do not deserve love.
You are not one of us.
You are different.

Today hurts. 

I had to publish this much later than when I originally wrote it. Partly because I forget to transfer my work and partly because the feelings were too real at the end of the election. It is all still too real, and in my sleep cycles I find myself trying to reason with how the world is falling apart. It hurts. To be this aware of my nationality, my skin, my sex, my difference, and it's unwantedness. My blackness a crime, a loaded gun aimed at my own head. 

RE:CONNECT

RE:CONNECT

I JUST AM

I JUST AM