sleep.

fuck.

hate.

fight the depression, fight it, fight it, fight it, fight it, fight it.

ai
demetrius

so fuck this shit.

im off to bed.

today was a good day, till fucking israel got the best of me.

so, its got potential.

an all white student group working to combat white supremacy, not my idea, problematic, but it has potential.

me. i do not know if i have potential. i fucked up. alot. i caused pain. i hurt someone. ive hurt someones. ive caused pain that rips up history and occupies time and mind like an obsession. ive hurt people, badly. i am shit.

ive been called out, in public. that hurt. good. bad. why. argh. i dont understand. i understand. pain. confusion. rejection. anger. rage. rage. rage. calm. acceptance. rage. searching. not finding, but knowing that i wouldnt. apologizing. im sorry. this is bigger than me.

instituionalized.

social systems.

socialized.

racism, sexism, white supremacy.

i am a racist. i am a sexisit. i am a white supremacist.

i am anti-racist, i am a feminist, anti-sexism, anti-gender oppression, anti-gender construction, anti-binary, i am anti-white supremacy, i am anti-KKK, i am anti-quotas, i am not enough.

actions speak louder than words. so i act. alot. i attempt to understand it, i ask questions and challenge myself, often. i continue to push it, cause i know that every second it will push back and ive got to build those muscles by resisting this bullshit like an animal fighting for its life. because it is my life, your life, our lives that i am fighting for. fighting for freedom is about fighting oppression, especially oppressions that you benefit from and fighting like hell.

chris crass spoke at the SOA Watch Protests last weekend. He is amazing. Inspiring. So much so that I shelled out 6 bucks for some literature. that brother moves me.

being called on my sexism, is not a badge of honor for doing good work. it happens when you do this work, it is necessary and painful and opens space for me to ask questions and challenge myself and others to call me on my bullshit, to call myself on my sexism, racism, egoism, and supremacy. i can fight this. i will fight this. it will be a never ending part of my life and will fucking do it till i die. hopefully i'll die a spot freer, and with more room for others too.

i was called on my sexism. fuck. it hurt, alot, she knew it would and it helped her. good. thats progress. it gave her space and was for her protection. good. good. good. painful. good.

thats all for now. ive got alot of reading to do. cunt, bell hooks, audre lord, every other feminist i can get my hands on and then some. this cant stop now. i am sexist, ive got to continually remind myself of that and continually understand how it manifests in me and what my combatting sexism(thought, actions, social structures) will manifest as.

ai

demetrius

sleepy, languid, drowsy, moving slower than molasses uphill in february, sluggish, drained, and pooped

this is what happens when i do not get enough sleep and refuse to drink multiple cups of coffee. it also happens when i do not eat right or skimp on the food for an additional few hours, im definately carrying around extra stores of energy but i still need protein. this morning i am angry with myself and with my bicycle.

At 6:45am the alarm goes off, waking up, i dress, and get ready to ride, johanna see's me out and i'm off. I hit broadway and then the west side highway bike path making excellent time and working hard, letting my thoughts drift along the hudson and the pink early morning glow of jersey, im satisfied and looking forward to this day.

Zipping along at about 15 mph, two turns rise in front of me scattered with loose rocks, navigating the first one smoothly, i get set to roll right through the second one, leaning into the turn i hit a rock and my heart drops as i hear the air begin to gush from my tire. I roll on, slower and turning in the smallest swoops possible to avioding skidding and cursing myself for not having a patch kit, and extra tube, or a pump with me. I make it to 145th street and get on the 1 & 9 to downtown. Its only 7:30am and my day is begining to look like a roller coaster.

Johanna is doing well, afraid of the traditional early winter depression she had constructive comments and was honest all night. Things are different though. The summer feeling is gone from our exchanges and its more brusque, colder now, less color in our words and less sparkle in our eyes. The space between us is wider, time has slipped in there, along with growth, and my mind's current. Honesty is demanding it's say and i know that it must be given. I wish that summer had never ended this year.

Do I?

No, not at all. Winter is beautiful and Bangalore calls my name. Falling hurts, but the recovery period is worth it and I'm making progress, what more could I ask for?

Everything.

Tonight i discovered that the speed-o-meter put in place to encourage slow driving by cars could be used to tell me how fast i was going on my bicycle. Once I figured this out my evening was set. I started with a modest 15 miles per hour, then i got it up to 21 miles per hour, and finally finished at 24 miles per hour, which i think is a fluke, cause no matter how hard i tried, that number wouldnt change. either way, it was wonderful.

these evenings are just blending together into a smear of movement, people, moments, books, and cups of coffee.

i dont mind, in seeking the distractions i find them and should be satisfied. but im not.

not at all. infact, finding satisfaction is proving to be a great challenge. distraction is available by the bucketful, but satisfaction remains elusive.

choices: nyc or jersey

ive got to devote a few solid hours to researching india's post colonial economics tomorrow and with all the trouble im having with finding books round here, im thinking that a day in new york city might open some windows for me.

though a few hours at rutgers could accomplish the same but significantly less interesting.

a day in new york will run me about 20 probably more for all the jazz. ill be able to rule the streets with my bicycle and indulge with rather delicious vegan grub and check out blue stockings for the first time. it will be worth it but to make it happen, my ass best sleep now.

defiance, ohio
coal chamber
this bike is a pipe bomb
and memories define me right now,
but im pushing at the edges,
i swear i am,
but i need help sometimes,
cause i cant do it alone,
we are moving mountains here.

hello words, sentences, blank pages, punctuation, intonation, and possibility; its been a while since we've interacted.

3:01am November 15th.

Wonderful.

Today was filled with suprises and disruptions and realizations and accusations.

A few soft hours were spent with yumiko.

A few nasty phone calls and angry messages graced my ears.

A pie and a crisp were baked ~ delicious! Apple and apple they were, using the leftover apples from friday night's Def Poetry jam, reuse the refuse in an act of resistance.

A few feet of my next scarf was knit; rainbow thread with a ribbed pattern.

A walk with erin was had, on which i realized that my interest in her is built strongly on the physical and our conversations lack any satisfying depth. If I find erin tomorrow, I'll be sure to tell her so, see how she feels, and see what can come of this.

Hunting for a cup of fairly traded coffee made with a french press, finding people from my past first, then the coffee and ultimately a diner, a cup of decaf, and an exchange reminiscent of, but significantly different from, the past.

It all ended with a goodbye, a pile of trash, and the rediscovery of words and inspiration in the change of seasons.

still alive.

no worries.


ai
demetrius