It’s a lot of pain. It’s just a lot of it.

This masquerade of accountability. Those public performances. I’m so sorry Ma’Khia Bryant.

There are so many layers and interpolations between the news and my intersectionality right now. Being hit by trucks of emotions left, right front and center. I barely flinch. I keep working. Holding my sides when needed.

I’m writing this to remember, when I’ll randomly visit my archives in five years or twenty. Because we will forget all about that 4/20/2021 by the end of the week.

To past-me well, you wouldn’t—I guess I’ll make another post.

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