It Is My Birthday Today. As A Gift To Me, Tell Someone You Know About Palestine, But Don’t Just Tell

I am good. I am loved.

Reblog so everyone can hear what they need.

You are. My friend

Today you found out that I can write poetry AND that I study English. A little Macbeth-themed thingy inspired by @two-bees-poetry

Fan fact: because English is not my native language I had to write both columns in the same time, otherwise I won't be able to stick my grammar together.

im noticing that for a lot of americans “free palestine” has been an ideological motto and symbol rather than them actually believing in their heart that freedom is attainable and necessary

Ilya Kaminsky, from "While the Child Sleeps, Sonya Undresses", Deaf Republic

Unconditional love isn't a free pass to hurt me.

yes & no by natalie wee

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

if you live in the imperial core, you profit directly from the genocide in gaza. yes, even if you are poor. centuries of our comfort and commodities have been bought with the displacement of populations, the manufacture and sale of arms, and the mutual wealth reinforcement of proxies like isr ael. the literal least we can do is offset a little of our privilege by throwing people a few bucks for food and water.

I vote that your writing continues to be:

self indulgent

cringe

weird

bizarre

long

short

sappy

only for your eyes

obnoxious

You're allowed to have your own voice. You're allowed to write something only you want to read. Seize the freedom you were never given in your 8th grade English class!