Soft heart, cruel world

I have been struggling. 

Mentally and Emotionally. 

Being alone with my thoughts has been surprising. 
Because I didn't realize how many ugly thoughts I had. 
And while I wanted to push through it, there was something even stronger telling me to: "give in, stop, chill, relax, pause, introvert yourself, shield your energy."

I was scared to not have the distraction of making work, creating my social experiences, having a loud beat move my body. 
I didn't have the distraction of the bright lights and bright colors I filled my art with. 
I didn't have my collaborators.  
I didn't have my friends. 
At 4 in the morning: sleepless night after sleepless night after sleepless night: I had me. 
And my two Psychiatric Service Dogs I adopted this year. 
And the three of us...
We sat. 
I cried. 
They slept. 
I wept. 
They ate. 
I sat on the floor and watched them. 
And cried and hurled out a guttural whimpering until it grew into a loud silent scream.
I cried so hard that I screamed nothing. 
All on the floor. 
Of my apartment. 
Surrounded by dogs of absolute innocence. 

I was grieving. 
I was spinning. 
I was drowning 
in flashbacks 
in childhood 
in trauma 
in fear 
in rage
in jealousy
in a overwhelm 
in panic
in inadequacy 
in the voices of all the people who yelled at me through the years, 
the voices of people who cut me off, hit me, spoke over me, the people who never gave me space to: be, live, express. 
And here I was: in my adult age: not giving myself space to make anything. 
Instead, I was giving myself space to cry and mourn over my reflection.
I'd get angry at myself for not being grateful. 
I'd get angry at myself for doing NOTHING. 
I'd get angry at myself. 
And yet: being Queer has taught me to always listen to my body. That is my silent promise to myself: that I would always listen to my body. And make it a safe space for myself, so others could feel safe with it too. 
So I listened to it. My body: it was exhausted. 
Body needed to cry. 
My heart needed to become a pool. 
I have been hiding pain for so long, and only in the silence, and loneliness of aloneness could I feel it: just how hurt I've been. And I didn't even realize. 
And I'm able to look at it now, rather than drown it in false positivity that always has an expiration date. 
I am learning to...
walk again
talk again 
sing again
create again
be still again
without needing to be so loved. 
I'm learning to be okay not knowing. And trying to embody the empowerment of not knowing. 
And tonight, and forever on, just as it has always been: 
I believe in Queer Futurity Now. 
I believe in feelings: I believe in conversations about them. 
I believe in shrooms, and ayahuasca, and Ocean, and traveling alone.
I believe in Shamans, and witches, and visions, and worth beyond money. 
I believe in Queerness. 
I believe in Softness. 
And as the world seems to harden around me, I refuse to harden with it. And it's taken me this long to understand what my personal integrity is rooted in.
I will remain soft, I will be tender, I won't harden myself to "keep up." Because I know where hardening gets us: trapped, sick, angry, alone. 
So, this is my prayer for the world tonight: May we all have the Strength to Soften. 
May we all have the strength to soften. 
Because holy hell, I need it. 
​Don't you?



- D