Perched. So Gently.

It was a pleasure to write with you Julie! (@julesgems) :))

Do you think that if you love a certain thing, it is supposed to be constant throughout and it loses its charm when it stops being exactly that?

I think that the idea of loving an entity as it changes and transforms is much more endearing than going "Oh. This doesn't resemble what I initially fell for."

I think that especially with people, you have to know that they're constantly moving and they are experiencing things, and they change. To hope that something stays exactly as it was when you fell in love with it doesn't sit right with me. Haven't you changed? Do we have the right to tell something to remain stagnant when we aren't?

I think I personally have a skittish attitude towards things that remain constant; on the other hand, change feels so natural. I think I see it in this light: to be with someone or something as it changes is to get to discover more things to love, new things to love about them. I also believe that there are certain things that always remain the same. Even when the person is entirely someone different, there is always a set of habits or a preference or something specific to just this one person, that still remains constant. I find myself fascinated by the fact that even after this landslide of a change, there are moments where you can see them be the person you first go to know or how even after such an elaborate transformation, there are things that still somehow remain the same.

I think there are tiny constants even in the grandest of transformations. I quite ardently believe that people are much more endearing when they embrace their changes rather than thinking that the people who loved them when they were someone else will stop doing so as they grow into another person. I think that if the people you know do not fit the life of who you want to be or who you have become, you should let them go. So no, I do not think that anything I love owes me the grave burden of being in a state of constant; in a state of stagnancy.

-Anika

God declared guilt the day his image

Ran away from Him-

Grew red with fury,

Grew up, up, up, up;

Until he covered the sky.

Eve was not the one who brought damnation or sin, no,

God named sin the day

Someone disobeyed him;

Who is god if not a living thing?

Eve came in a storm shock,

Came a reminder for God

That one day

Thou shan't be

The Judge,

The Jury and

The Executioner;

Thou shan't be the harbinger

Of all this fury.

A woman carved herself a piece of sin

The day she walked out of obedience,

Walked out of being a mere accomplice to a man.

In an act of trust, Eve reclaimed herself;

Don't you get it?

Lilith ran away from the disgrace of submission

And God named her fallen,

Named her a demon,

Named her evil;

Wiped out the first injustice

From memory.

What is so bad about morality?

To know the good and evil;

The first humans bit into the apple

And the apple grew them a conscience-

Grew the thought that there was a body.

Grew the feeling of all of this being,

Being here,

Grew the thought that they were here.

The Garden shut its gates

And the humans wandered off;

The first act of foolishness will perhaps always be trust.

Eve trusted the serpent,

Adam trusted Eve

And God trusted something human.

A.G.

Maybe we will not be anything that aches when it is gone.

-A.G.

Burning

They are having a tickle war like they always do; his small body curled into itself, trying to tuck it within its own bounds, to not have to bear this joyful torture.

They are not people anymore, they are two shrieks of laughter. They are an odd sight to look at: a tall girl, almost a woman, and a toddler of six; an unlikely friendship that looks bizarre but radiates so much joy you cannot help but feel warm.

The girl turns into things she isn't; just for this boy, she turns into a sunny disposition, a pleasant version of herself and she has the gentlest voice. She has hands that do not hurt, she has eyes that smile and she is bubbles of laughter come to life.

The boy comes back year after year to meet his sister; they aren't really siblings, they are distant cousins but there is a lot of love here. And where there is so much love, you feel obliged to put a label. So they were brother and sister, and the oddest duo of the lot. As the years pass by, she sees her brother transform into things she resents; no longer a sweet child, he throws tantrums and uses his hands and fists like the men do. But he isn't a man yet, he is just a little boy.

He is nine and he already thinks it is okay to do things you do not like others doing; he thinks that it is okay to destroy what isn't yours because you could not have it or to scream and cry until you hand him what he asked for. These are trivial things, he is just a child after all.

She walks in on the boy destroying something that isn't his and he throws things at her, makes her mad. He takes pleasure in irritating her; she can tell; he takes her things and claims them as his and she lets him. She feels something come over her; makes her way towards him and traps him in her hold. She tickles his neck and she scratches him.

The boy is screaming and crying and she is devastated. She sees herself transform into things she thought she would never become. She sees an image of her lineage in her. Is this what we inherit?

Suddenly, she is small again. She is not herself, she is the little boy. She is nine, she is seven, she is five years old. She knows she is small so she bites the hands of those who reach out because her fists are still a little girl's fist, even though the size of the fight in her is quite big.

She doesn't recognize herself anymore.

Is this what we inherit?

No.

It runs in the family but this is where it stops.

Bless the hands that fed us, and may there be scars on those who harmed us. May we never become the things that hurt us.

She is twenty-five years old now. And there is an odd friendship in her life that no one understands, but there is a lot of love there. There is a little brother waiting for her.

Please don't let the government or anyone erase any more of history. It is on you. You have a responsibility.

EDUCATE YOURSELF.

Be neutral for long enough to realise that perhaps you are in the wrong.

Form educated opinions which are backed up by facts.

Try reliable sources and if reliable sources fail you, try to gain perspective from different ones.

If you don't know enough to have an opinion, SAY SO. Don't just sprout some bullshit to sound intelligent, you don't. You sound ignorant and hateful. When did it become wrong to just admit that you don't have enough information to form a well educated opinion?

When in doubt, always take the stance which doesn't undermine a person's life or belief or belittle them or discriminate against them.

And how do we forget all this glory around us?

Dripping chaos everywhere I go.