This month I began practicing poke and stick tattooing. Week one I just learned about the hygiene, needles, ink, procedure etc. Week 2 I inked oranges, grapefruits and bananas. Week 3, I inked myself with a snake drawn by my ahijade.
Me levante justo antes del alba Yupaychani Pachamama on the Lands of Kiikaapoi 𐓏𐒰𐓓𐒰𐓓𐒷 𐒼𐓂𐓊𐒻 𐓆𐒻𐒿𐒷 𐓀𐒰^𐓓𐒰^ Muscogee Caddo O-ga-xpa Ma-zhoⁿ Očhéthi Šakówiŋ celebrating #SixSquared years w@ndering
Through my hike I photographed myself (forgot to use my film paper ) off trail around the 10acres of the White yoga couple then their two dogs joined me and we spent some time with the ducks, roosters and goats after a run through some of the paths
I made some boiled eggs, coffee and served myself orange juice and water to eat while I soaked in the hot tub one last time before departure south.
It took me close to 5 hours to drive to Dallas just from so many stops and then being disoriented and ending up on wrong turns here and there
Time with my Atlanta and Detroit friends was lovely and chill just what I needed – smoking, eating, music, art. Then back on Seminole Lands a friend paid for a piercing and invited me and some friends here to gather with plenty of food and treats.
36 has brought me a sense of relief. I asked my most recently passed ancestors for comrades and I got exactly that. In my socio personal life and at work I am surrounded by folxs who support me thru
It has been amazingly easy to block myself from the view of people that just don’t bring me much joy or awe or just take my peace and resources. Disconnecting trauma bonds has been painful. I’m satisfied, however, that it’s getting easier to weed out the naysayers, abusers, user, posers, performative allies and actually hurting much less each time I set boundaries way the fuck far from gross folx 🧿
I wanted to venture out on my own and did not want restrictions. Every day I left the airbnb, the drive was through a Favela-like region, fenced off, facing the highways. The inhabitants lived in communal homes self-made-mostly (I think) with parts of concrete, wood, metal sheets and random shit. There were shared public restrooms and trash as far as the eye could see from the highways of their area.
Upsetting is not even the word.
I learn most from strangers. There’s something in a fleeting moment that makes us honest unlike with other relationships. In South Africa I learned the most about the socio political sentiments from migrants from the North – Senegalese, Nigerian and Congolese Uber drivers chatted it up with me. They said racism was brutal – they were paid shit, treated like second class citizens and discriminated against constantly. Of course of course! The mixed-lighter-skinned folx are safer and overall more well and protected than the darker folx. That’s reminiscent of my experience everywhere. In Cuba, the Black folx told me for sure there was racism while the light skineed denied it. The difference was the violence. Everywhere else doesn’t match the constant physical violence towards Black folx in the U.S. Everywhere I travel, it is a common accepted belief that violence from the States only matches the violence inflicted by the States’ “authorities” on other countries.
To rebel, I ventured towards the parts that were “dangerous” for tourists. The airbnb host (Coloured) told me to be safe because the darker skinned folx would know I’m not local and I may be robbed or worse. There was not institutional racism, he had said, – that it was relatively peaceful “unlike the States.” But there he was showing me the racism. He told me that I could “fit in” within the Coloureds but my dress, comportment and clothing gave me away. Like a doofus, I actually wanted to stand out – at the conference. NOT on the Land with the Natives. So, I had to be careful because I had my nails done French tip and I know exactly how that changes my appearance.And here I was a privileged Gringa. But I conceded understanding that, duh, I am the foreigner here. Lest I maintain the disgusting stereotype of U.S. travelers who disrespect everybody and all living beings. I was frustrated that I was confined to a shopping area and a boogie beach but I settled.
Mostly because of the ostrich and kudu dining options, I chose the beach. They were delicious in curry!!
<more pictures coming soon>
amos pa’ la playa Pa’ curarte el alma Cierra la pantalla Abre la medalla Todo el mar caribe Viendo tu cintura Tú le coqueteas Tú eres buscabulla Y me gusta
No se x q, I have this itch. It is always exhilarating to try new foods and also to investigate that which is prohibited for my body. I want to eat local, including the animals of which are endemic and also maybe pests of some sorts to appease guilt-feelings. So, my final day in The moment was picturesque. A great view of the south Atlantic ocean with some rocks and bird in the background was before me and my journal. Everything was as I hoped for my final day in – a great dinner followed by a dusk on the beach. The only part missing was a lover. Enter frame:
Genius What a charming motherfucker What a fun, great artist
When Genius met Sucre:
He went through his entire collection for me making conversations about this and that. The ones I liked were placed here; the maybes were in another pile; the nopes were furtherest from my view. We shared a couple joints and beer, flowing chat, some mild flirting. He was convincing and I decided to buy some art from him and the adventure began.
First we looked for a bank. My card was either blocked or the machines down because nothing happened. Next we thought about traveling to my airbnb to get USD and Euros but it was much too far and he had to be back for a bus back to his Congolese group who traveled back together exactly in the nation’s version of The Projects. We sat there on the stoop of some hotel for a bit trying to figure out how to exchange the art as the sun was setting. Then came his idea:
What if you buy me a cell phone? Alright, let’s see what happens.
The sellers told me they needed my passport and return flight info and other private information to proceed. I began feeling uncomfortable so I resigned. “Sorry but I think I’m gonna head back to my airbnb. It’s getting late and I don’t want to get myself in trouble – I’m not giving anyone that info.” But wait. He was also gonna hook me up with 2 joints worth of Cannabis. “We can figure this out. Let me think about it.”
Since I enjoyed his company, I waited patiently to see what he’d come up with next. “Maybe we can just go to a store and you buy me stuff.” Let’s see how long and complicated this can get. We jumped into a few places – felt like we were running around Camps Bay looking for the just-right spot. It was not the easiest transaction but I learned and felt great from the experience. First I learned about a common habit of “elderly and poor people” (is it a stereotype? just there? half real life? like poor people on my continent do?). A “sad looking” usually woman will put food into your hands or cart and stand next to you. They will push that you can afford to just help them feed their family. It was affordable for me – my earnings were the minimum in the U.S. (for someone of my background, experience, education, privilege privilege…), but enough for me to share food with others. So I added a whole chicken for an elderly woman who followed me for a while around the store as Genius calculated his groceries. Finally, at check out, I was nervous but Great Success.
Lento y contento, cara al viento Lento y contento, cara al viento
I gained 6 (or 8?) art pieces and he got groceries! I did not stick around for Genius to travel to his communal home and back with 2 joints so he’s holding on to them until I return 😉
We keep in touch via WhatsApp, Facebook and IG and we had chatted about a potential art-business but irl, I can’t so that shit. As soon as I figure my AWs, I’ll try and reach out to do some collaborating with him.
That was exactly a year ago today. I’m wearing the same outfit I wore for my research presentation at the conference titled:
Bethinking Our Inking: Temporal and spatial dimensions of art on contested spaces
It had not been approved officially as my dissertation research but the works began there in Cape Town.
I rolled a couple joints. Fried up leftover cheese and scrambled eggs. Made sure my trash was binned (found a previous guest’s blunt roach), my stuff shoved in my backpack and pillow case and I stepped out to load my car. As I closed the trunk, a voice asked me through a half-covered face (#ThatCOVID19Life), “do you have some change I can have?” I reached in m pocket and handed whatever I grabbed. “Do you have cigarettes?”
“Nah, sorry…” Just as they turned around, “Oooh wait, I got better – I have a Black and Mild here!”
It took a few minutes to find a lighter than to share it trying to maintain a distance. She was cool. Woulda sat there and chatted in another temporal spatial dimension. As I stepped back into my car, just as I was closing the door out of the peripheral vision of my left side I see a creature. It took a little bit to see the roughed up dark creature was probably a cat. I tapped on the ground and made kissy sounds and the cat seemed mildly interested. “I’ll be back with some food for you,” I told cat as I crossed into the Family Dollar across the street.
The store had a shattered glass door that we were instructed to open slowly and not slam. I fumbled.
Back across the street, I decided to share the food I was not gonna eat for the people and the tuna and canned chicken/pork for the kitty.
These exchanges took me back to smokin Beedis and cannabis with the boys I grew up with in my life. The Hip Hop, Grunge, Metal, pseudo intellectuals I hung out with between my pre-teens and early 20s denigrated women (esp WoC), differently abled persons, any neurodivergence, all races (esp poor Black and poor White and Puerto Ricans)… Some of the worst of what I remember, on top of gross jokes were the people of Color being told we were “not really _______.” “Not one of those people…”
I drove to the nude beach where just two days prior a beautiful and well-endowed Black man with almost yellow eyes approached me to chat (I get at least one “wanna talk?” each time I visit). I truy enjoyed the “vulgar” frame I got of his dick dangling in the sand as he crouched near me – I see how the fuck big you are, dayum bro!! and yeah, I was kinda kicking myself afterwards – trying to convince myself that I chose to be safe due to the corona virus. We woulda had a helluve a good time – this I know. Sighs. Truthfully, I have been in an over-thinking-everything phase for some time and I don’t like drawing people in who are not creative, inspiring, witty and funny folxs. Prefer my Queer spaces more and more these days. The minute he said “there are a lot of nice people around here looking to just have a nice chat.” I doubted his intentions so I told him I was working when he asked what I was “up to.” My tits are out and Pleasure Activism in hand. I dislike the word “nice” so much. I don’t owe you a goddamn thing. Sure as hell will NOT be nice. Gross. *retches*
I’m in a moment. Fuck
I hate performing feminine I especially, detest l-a-d-y spicy Latina little girl
I’m just a girl in the world that’s all that you’ll let me be
I talk like a man
I sit like a man
I smoke like a man
I spit like a man
I drive like a man
I cuss like a man
I am the *only* woman that reads that
I have the body of a 12 year old boy
I am stronger and more flexible and more knowledgeable about every topic than most men I know
You know what? Sometimes I fuck like a man too.
Sometimes I fuck women like a man.
Sometimes I fuck men like a man.
Sometimes I am 100% submissive and exactly the woman you picture.
I need someone who understand I’m a woman, a real woman I know just what I want I know just who I am
Reading Pleasure Activism has come at such a delightful time in life – I have to learn me new ways by my lonesome. I read quite a bit about performing sex at the beach. I was the only pair of (small) tits – pierced nipples, big dark areolas – and (hairy) cunt I could see in the water. Then a redhead with DD+ big pink nipples came in for a few minutes. Just as quickly or faster, an elderly White D+ person with an old White dude. Then at the shallow end, after the two light-skinned women left and I was still swimming about, there was a GORGEOUS lusófono(?) C-D+ Brown curvy woman – beautiful ass – who entered briefly with a muscly man who had been massaging her body with oil for quite some time (they last >5mins in the water). I watched them for a while, totally aroused. He was definitely penetrating her for some time and I just smoked away enjoying the view. I saw ~10 women/femme people total on the 0.4-mile nude area (and most in tops and bottoms – I usually wear a bottom because I hate sand in my pubes). Just within my view, a couple dozen dues-only. Mostly older. Lotta saggy balls :0 Why are there so few women (of Color) at Haulover?
I did not go to the beach for dick (or pussy) thanks for asking. I do not appreciate your assumption that anything about me is about you. I’m not trying to make friends during a pandemic. Why does your dick have to be right by my face? Why approach me when I’m laying down? Why not ask about my book or my writing, which you are watching me do? Comment on my dopeass music? Why are you soooo boring?
When the clouds came overhead around 16:00 I got out of the water with a plan to buy Ecuadorian food then eat with gators on Miccosukee Territory before heading north. A caldo de bola may be the perfect food for the occasion or something beefy? er?
The flower gave me happy power and I shifted from guilt, insecurity, anger, resentment, regret, betrayal to chill, everything’s gonna be aight, future plans are exciting.
I love how masc i am. I am resolute, earnest, kindof a bro who explores w@nders here and there – me and my Sebas, we do cool shit like hang out with ants and feed squirrels and snakes. Sebas hates to get dirty but I get enough dirty for the both of us. We love dinosaurs – we get real petty super bro style. The way I love fem is masc. I take care of my shit 100!! Proud. I am mean. Like my standards are ill advised. But I’m stubborn. I love “boys'”/”men’s” cologne, clothes, Vans, Dr. Martens, Timberland boots, fútbol, basketball, Ultimate, football, rock climbing, muddin’, shootin’, dissecting dead animals and cooking, camping… ALL THAT IS MADE UP THO.
ALL THIS IS MADE UP TOO:
I love how fem I am. I defend the people I love warrior-style. That is my feminine energy. I am a nurturer, I’m clairvoyant, an empath, a puzzle maker, creator. Strong – literally, spiritually, mental fortitude like no other, physically stronger than most people I’m around.
I am fluid. I am not as others perceive me. Marimacha, Tomboy.
My intellect and sexuality and synesthesia is between sexes. My flexibility is also unique. I can twist and split and turn this way and that. I see inside out and downside upsides I SEE YOU your insecurities are so fuckin loud I am fluid gendered snappy witty far-reaching 20/20.
Had to play with fire and get burned Only way the boy ever gon’ learn Had to lay way in the cut, til I finally got my turn
My life is fucking incredible.
I built this with with so many people by my side pushing me through
to be better because they know better and taught me better
I love very hard so I’m totally happy with leaving some behind
we don’t have to be at the same pace on the same path
I don’t love you less
right now you needn’t be closer
I’m safer right here right now among my people who protect me
Angela Zambrano left us last night. Loss hasn’t hurt this deeply in a long while. She was exactly the stuff great abuelitas are made of. She had as many stories as mi tío Lucho, the communist; her stories drew me to our homeLands. Lucho was alive and in many ways fighting the neoliberal changes sweeping our Abya Yala and tía Rosita was taking great care of everybody and their children, including my papi and all his siblings and, when she’d see us – even in the smallest of moments – she’d smile, hug us warmly, tightly and offer something. Nunca con las manos vacías.
Rosita’s generosity and authentic kindness embodies our most sacred code of life. What an honor and privilege to have her in my life. Muchissimas gracias tía Rosita, tenemos tantos lindos recuerdos de usted. Yo más me acurdo de tu sonrisa y cariño. Siempre me tenías un dulcito con cuentos sobre mi papi y mis tí@s. Grandes abrazos.
Me alegro q estes en el lugar donde no hay ni dolor, ni llanto, como dice mi prima Gina, tu hija hermosa y dulce como usted. Blanquita died a few weeks before you – I know yall were close. Como prima hermanas! Espero que disfruten la nueva vida por allá con mis abuelitos y tí@s que pasarón antes de ustedes. Voy a dedicar un tiempito cada semana para charlar sobre lo que pasa por aqui. Par que sepan, la hija de Natalie nació el 3 de noviembre. Phoenix Amor esta igualita a Nicolita (la hermana, hija menor de Ecuador). Mira que lindo el nombre!
There is absolutely no reason for me to pay more than my monthly salary for 1 diss credit.
Phoenix Amor came to this world on Nov 3rd’s waning crescent moon. I’m excited to meet our new family member. We got a couple more coming in the next few months.
I’ve had loose bowels, nausea, muscular pain, headache and feel fatigue for about 3 days now. No fever or chills, I think. I can taste and smell well still. Veteran’s Day is celebrated by schools being open but COVID19 testing being closed. The system does not need to make sense. Enough people follow the rules.
Last week, I was asked about the first book in which I saw myself: “Meet Addy.”
I was thrilled that the series finally had a character so similar to me. Parts of my story are out there! Papi reminded me, around 2nd grade, that our essence was still absent in these stories. The “American” series was missing the most crucial component of its story – those of us from this Land. I wrote a letter to the company and they responded with an “American under Mexican rule” and then an “American” representing Native America in a region prior to larger European-centered settlement (from the Nimipuu tribe).
Books have become more diverse for sure…
As a family we watched television shows like The Cosby’s, Family Matters or The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and were taught to look for values that matched our own and criticize how some descendants of slaves were deculturalized and uphold a system that not only oppresses them but openly despises them as well. I was taught to defend my ethnic backgrounds but never to do so in ways that maintains the material conditions of a chained people. I now watch shows like This is Us, Black-ish, Grown-ish, Mixed-ish not because they are good, but to, maybe, catch a glimpse into similar epistemologies of my people and to conduct CRT media analyses (similar to how my elders taught me).
I am my people at my essence
I do not identify as a Black woman though I have an actual African grandparent because properties of Blackness here do not match properties of our Blackness. White people can be Black here – not just in looks but in every aspect of how they live their life. “Black” in the U.S. means/t, for many, consumer-Hip-Hop culture (not underground), Christianity, top-down power structures, toxic patriarchy and hegemony. Deculturalization is what happened to folx like Kamala Harris, Michelle and Barak Obama, Black folxs on pop TV and many academic Black folxs.
It is a loving critique.
This week in This is Us there’s a scene in which the white brother has an awkward morning with his non-traditional fiancée. They hooked up, got pregnant and then moved in and decided to spend their lives together during a pandemic. Their conversation is painfully simple, non-emotional, vapid. The next scene is even worse. Two white girls are talkin about some boy “who clearly still likes” the young white girl twin (after they broke up). Mandy More comes in “I have snacks. Nothing healthy. Only the fun stuff.”
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?
THAT IS SOME REAL WHITE PEOPLE SHIT?
The snotty, ungrateful teen tells her mom, “Bagel Bites. Stewart loves Bagel Bites” (“Stewart” is a boy she likes, insert eye roll emoji here, and is trying to impress as girls are taught).
Rebecca doesn’t want to “meddle”
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?
THAT IS SOME REAL WHITE PEOPLE SHIT?
So far, the vast majority of television in 2020 that incorporates people of Color, still makes them White.
I keep searching for Red and Black people that think like us, that act like us.
The scene that follow that grossass child abuse, the white girl twin is an adult with her husband meeting the Steeler’s Fan mother of maybe their future child. That was on the couple’s “Profile” and the woman wore it as an “homage.” Then she mentions naming the child after a tv character from Buffy. No judgement about the fetus created from a one-night stand. They’re excited she has “exquisite” pop culture references “like she combed through [they’re] social media.”
Like for real.
These are the values that people look for?
I see myself in Tess and Deja and even Annie.
Their parents – not so much.
I’m turning inward again and shutting out the world.
I woke up feeling sick. All over sick, inside out.
I cannot continue to act like them.
In the quest to find our names born of the Land, we are lost. They called at us with strange sounds. Escaped enslaved Africans and survivors from shipwrecks in 1553 formed independent communities along rivers of Ecuador’s northern coast and mingled with Indigenous folxs in areas beyond the reach of the colonial “authorities.” Flags did not exist then. Borders were not policed then. African ways of being complimented the region’s cosmobio-worldviews.
Red Scare 2020 Lessons
1. Find your comrades
2. Find your friends
3. Find your kin folxs
4. White people stay about White people (POC-White-Wannaba are sometimes more dangerous)
5. Do NOT sell out #RedScare2020 #LiberalsAreAlsoCapitalists #EliteBIPOCAintTheAnswer #HeterarchiesWork #RelinquishPower #ACAB
Don’t let others see you thrive. Jealousy is a powerful tool of colonialism. They taught you to want more than what you can ever actually need in life.
This is not a competition.
This is the same tired Racism v. Classism debate
White is a state of mind of which BIPOC definitely consume if\when they are indoctrinated by schools and media which inculcate the imperialist White supremacy capitalist patriarchy
Black folxs have it worse
<applause for a Black Asian cop>
Current mood: Corbiche Manabita
Just after Dr. Dre spoke “hold up,” the data disconnected from my cellphones, which interrupted the blue tooth at precisely at 3:33:43 yesterday. I spent a lot of yesterday pondering this and then felt peaceful.
This morning sometime around 8am just after some squats and push-ups, I made a Texas toast with fresh basil, spinach, avocado and a fried egg with mora juice and cafe for my first mean, I tidied up. I smoked. I lit some candles. Drew The Hermit. Then, I prepared my television for starting the new season of Killing Eve. My goal was to eat and watch an entire episode without other technological distractions. My food was so good that even when I squealed in pain with the first bite I could gobble up the rest, half ignoring the pain. As I went to the mirror during the last moments of my chew, some dry bits stayed in my esophagus and made me cough violently.
I made it through one episode and then started episode 2 of the 3rd season in the kitchen. My goal was to make corbiches. Salieron aguados pero huelen ricos:
This is my body as I near 36. I’m trying to build strength throughout my body. I practice yoga and meditation nearly daily. I go on runs twice or more a week (on good, not suffocating-heat days). I’m trying to do more strength training and eating better to catch up to my aging body. My period pain has lessened substantially and it is quite a relief.
La Cosmobiovisión incluye la ley de “lo que es mio, es tuyo;” “No hay bastante pero hay sufuciente” (Lamar, 2019). When it’s cold bundle up as much as possible – SHARE WARMTH. Do not be wasteful. Do not be lazy. Do not take more than what you don’t need. Recycle everything as often as humanly possible. Nurture the life around you as much as humanly possible. My ancestors do not understand self-extinction – nourishing life is the meaning of life. We have everything we already need – jealousy is the most useless emotion. Find time for joy. Pachamama sings brilliance and beauty when Her children dance.
“In the end communism will triumph” W.E.B Dubois
The term “decolonization” is popular in the 21st century. Yet, folxs believe there are vast differences between liberal mentality and conservative mentality. Like Democrats are “better than”… Socialism is totally inconceivable – it’s confusing to many. From an Indigenous viewpoint, some of the shit coming out just makes no sense.
Your actual day-to-day way of being is detrimental to yourself and all other living beings.
Why would should we strive to live like you?
Thriving happens when I listen to Land.
Your rules don’t apply here
they only lead to pain
we know how to live this Land
Even your imitation is costly; your surrender of such silly ways is all we pray for
We live well into our hundreds and decide when we are finished living in our current forms. We are natural, natural is us. We can read us.
It doesn’t have to make sense to you. You are from somewhere else.
Time is not linear. Borders are not real. Movement is always.
Some of the knowledges of Abya Yala stay on Abya Yala across time and space to and fro different bodies.
Whiteness would rather die in the physical and live in the imagination than to live in the truth.” – Sonya Renee Taylor
“The screaming baboon lived under their own white skin; the red gums were their own.” – Toni Morrison, BELOVED
LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH * LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH
🧿Need more creative comrades with conviction around me 🧿
Not just a craving, in order to thrive, I need to be surrounded by Black and Brown folxs and White comrades who are purposeful with their day-to-day life choices. Who are earnest about praxis. Who are committed to the thriving of Black and Brown folxs. Academics are NOT leading the revolution. A great many simply want to be in control, to be like White men, to feel power. Ugggh y duele – the POC who want “a seat at the table” or who aspire to be the 1% or a celebrated, influencer, best-selling, thirst-followed, fangirled, likes-ho… whatever it is that tickles your consumerist cappie White wannabe lifestyle… so very sad… some yall proudly show off your chains!! Many others simply want to fit in, to jump on the bandwagon, to find their place since they have none outside of PWIs. The most disappointing realization I’ve had in the past 5 years is that a lot of folxs I looked up to or hoped to learn alongside going in to PhD studies have more in common with the PWI than I – and they like it. I did not choose PhD studies to learn who I am or what I’m about. Everyone knows who I am and what I’m about, me first.
I came to expand who I am and what I’m about, to build with like-minds
Black Indigenous Liberation
Forgive and forget?
Excuse me while I vomit over here
the Black elite are not the vanguard (Mallett, 2020; Rennie-Hill, 1995)
Life is better than ever as I sift thru and remove the decay
need some more worms to help break apart, break down, essential-ize
I spend most of my days reading writing doing artivism and now SLEEPING much more!!
Nearing 36 I live my life EXACTLY how I want
it ain’t easy
I love the struggle tho
Vivo a mi manera
The struggle is literal
it’s not only on holidays that we honor the dead and other living beings
we don’t kill for decorations or waste selfishly or spend and pray on designated cappie days
COVID19 is still taking lives
On Indigenous People’s Day, A group of us (>50) were surrounded 360 by about 30 cops after a group of old White folxs called them when we met at Cristobal Colon statue with red paint, which washed out in the rain just as the fuzz and their weapons arrived on bike
Heh, I currently work part time earning less money than I’ve ever made, without any benefits but I am at my happiest working for an amazing incredible scholar and person – for the 2nd time in my life I feel humanized at work. I feel valued, intelligent…. Cops scare me, have abused me irl, but I don’t give a fuck.
I know where I ought be
The choir sings And la da di la di da da da, dah Only he can save my soul And I know the money don’t really make me whole The magazine covers drenched in gold The dreams of granny in mansion and happy The little things I need to save my soul
Chican@ = U.S. person with Mexican ancestry (can be Hispanic, Latinx and or have Afrodescent)
Hispanófono = Spanish speaking
Lusófono = Portuguese speaking
Anglophone = English speaking But “Latinx” now means non-Black and non-Indigenous?
If your relationship to land is hella White, your religion is hella White, your customs and traditions are hella White (and match the gregorian calendar’s, named after a pope of your faith), your values are hella White and your food is hella White, sorryNotsorry, you WHITE (and your skin [and blood quantum] is also actually White, don’t front, we can all see you!!)
I literally voted so They would stop harassing me. Yall don’t remember Bush? Not talkin to yer folxs about 45 4 years ago?
This ain’t Chile. Or Bolivia. O mi Ecuador
LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH * LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH
YALL SOOOO BORING
SOOOOOOOOOOOO boring. (White and yt-wannabes) Millenials are much too fake dramatic for me!!
Yes, you’re right. This life is not financially rewarding. You will not gain any more respect or be congratulated publicly. Shit is very emotionally, physically, financially, socially draining in real life. Yes. And we knew you’d jump in conveniently (and to spice up your boringass resume) and then we knew yalld burn out. yall come and go. your struggle is momentary. your bougie can’t handle the proletariat. you don’t know ratchet in real life only in your entertainment choices when you’re in public’s view or earshot. Yes. We seen you yesterday doing nothing. Nothing has changed. You are exactly who you been all along.
Fuck all yall is how I feel at the moment when people are talking (again) about “leaving the country if whatshisnastyWhiteface wins”. Like we never had a racist misogynist piece of shit in office.
You’re worried about a fucking fascist motherfucker NOW?!
What changed for you all a sudden?
“If you voted for 45, swipe right” – SHUT THE FUCK UP. THAT’S NOT A PERSONALITY TYPE. You’re just a voter. Every 4 years and occasionally when your more-woke gf tells you to. so that no one sees you being racist in public. or on paper.
oh, your activism extends beyond what you get paid to do? you also do charity for your church? Pssst, church is exactly colonialism. You ain’t radical to nobody!!
LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH * LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH
YOUR EGO shit is interrupting the REVOLUTION
the revolution didn’t start with me
ya me ojearon una vez
yall so fuckin gross stubborn about shit you ain’t ever been about till today
yall so fuckin attention-hungry
yall so fuckin BORING
LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH * LISTEN TO BLACK\NATIVE YOUTH
that’s all I’m about to continue to say about all this nonsense liberal fearmongering
Current Mood: Xibalba x Clint Mansell & Kronos Quartet
I have been blessed with clairvoyance, deep empathy and uncanny intuition. Me han guido muy, pero muy bien los parientes antepasados. Better yet, my loved ones love me magical. I perceive even the tiniest details (whether or not I act like it 😉 and I am brilliant at deciphering all kinds of puzzles. Best of all I have learned from mi gente to love deeply, honestly, kindly.
I AM REVOLUTIONARY LOVE
I AM HERE TO BIRTH, NURTURE, NOURISH AND EXPAND OUR COLLECTIVE THRIVING
THIS VERY MOMENT FILLS ME OF LOVE APPRECIATION AND GRATITUDE FOR THE NOW * EVERYTHING IS SLOWING DOWN * MORE WORDS AND CONCEPTS ARE BEING INVENTED FOR OUR CHANGING WORLD * I AM CHANGE * I AM EXACTLY THE CHANGE I HAVE BEEN PRAYING FOR * I AM EXACTLY WHO I OUGHT BE
🌱 YA VIENE LA COSECHA 🌿
Before obtaining my Ph.D. at Michigan State, I have achieved my goals of writing antiracist early childhood curriculum for wages. My next goal is to make a comfortable living (substantially more than with my MS.Ed.) building and running an Artivist Wellness Space (in Black and Brown spaces with my partner, family, and or a collective in NY, Florida, Tulsa, Detroit, Flint, New Orleans, L.A…).
“According to the health department, positive test cases linked to MSU now total at least 342 since Aug. 24, when students began returning to the community in greater numbers. That compares to 23 positive cases related to MSU in the three weeks before that.”
Nice-sounding words I’ve thought about myself in various times and spaces included: pulchritudinous, good vibe, ratchet, honest, full of integrity, delicious, wacky, awe-inspiring, admirable, incredible, alluring, wise, a trip and a half, brilliant, ho, sloooooW, appealing, attractive, beautiful, smart, bewitching, charming, generous, fun, cute, harmonious, tasty, dazzling, quick, delightful, enticing, revolutionary, excellent, fascinating, foxy, good-looking, amazing, magical, sexy, adventurous, slutty, powerful, weird…
I should be dignified
Red and Brown and Black and White
in so many iterations
India Negra Mulata Mestiza Montubia
y escupen gringa, coconut, white-washed, prieta, chola
hispanic spic beaner wetback prairieni**er latina/o/e/x border-crosser illegal immigrant who swam over
my hair journey?
mis chorros de chorrona, rizos, curls, spirals, ringlets
3A/B/C curly spirally medium porosity texture density and some protein?
I am not my hair I am not this skin I am the soul that lives within
Untamed rowdy loud big nappy unprofessional unattractive and unclean hair
Is that your real hair? No way!
Just keep it back and away from our gaze
a body dysmorphic disorder?
talk white, act white
bell pepper nose
Prieta machona tosca gruesa gorda gordita gordota masculina/e machona parece-pata broad shoulders itty bitty titties mosquito bites manly androgynous body of a twelve year old boy flabby flat-ass fat chubby no-neck too masc tomboy fat tight pu**y not femme enough wide fat hands thick fred-flinstone-feet must be Brazilian or Puerto Rican or Dominican
Fuck like a man squeal like a girl cum too fast too slow moan too loud been with too many dudes hides women and gnc guarra dom and sub nympho Queer enough true switch not vanilla thirsty exotic lesbo erotic sensual wild untameable side piece pata the other woman fuckable but not marriage-material dyke sister-like friends-only but with benefits sometimes vulgar uncouth slut commie savage third world porch ni**er welfare queen mequetrefe pandillera hood ratchet gangsta grunge freaky thug asking-for-it always-wants-it
Yes and No
PRIMERA LUZ DEL DÍA
I love learning how to love
I wander and wonder to learn
I like to build community around shared liberation dreams
I am passionate about expressing myself in a multitude of ways
I create, build, nurture, fight, nourish and write along the way about everything all the time on all kinds of surfaces with all different kinds of materials
I sang in choir, played chimes, piano, guitar, ukulele, basketball, volleyball, track, yoga, fútbol, climbed rocks, bouldered, Ultimate, half marathons, football, hike, swim….
My degrees, hobbies, affiliations, kin are not required
EVERYONE DESERVES FOOD CLOTHING SHELTER EDUCATION ART
and always have been
since time immemorial
We are endemic to this continent
We mixed with Africans and Europeans who came just a few hundred years ago
I will not be explaining this to anyone anymore.
Fuck the academicization of my lived experiences
dealing with those trying to project their confused state of being on me
Participation in, with and for White European religions, patriarchy, capitalism, elitism/exclusivity/classism, rules, professionalism, is directly harmful to Black and Brown bodies. The material consequences of having proximity to Blackness everywhere (especially on this Land) includes dehumanizing and violence in many forms such as all this that I’ve experienced K-PHD:
language policing (speaking both Spanish and AAL is a double-edged sword and then White-accent mandated)
Afro Indigenous religion ostracizing
actual police being called on/about/to deal with me
being followed by the police
assumed family dynamics
assumed criminal behavior
assumed life path
stop and frisk
divestment in my education, health, protection, basic care and concern (birth)
Do I see my experience as the U.S. Black experience? NO
Today I call myself Brown
BLACK LIVES MATTER and all that I am fights for Black Lives to Matter
Our epistemology and ontology is mixed and my family/community are racialized as both and either Black or Brown because race is not objective, inherent, or fixed. That is how and why I am currently racialized as either and both Black and Brown because race is a social construct that is not static. So, do I have Black phenotype? NO and YES depending on who you ask (light-skinned Indigenous folxs told me I’m “definitely Black in Tulsa”; White midwest dude said he thought I was “Latinx” as though it were a race)
It is a miXed varYing experience of Liminal o5ci\\@ting s p a c e s
*People who do not protect or see/hear my body or police my body are unsafe
En tiempos antiguos cuando habia un muerto se quedaban los familiares en el hogar de el muerto hasta el alba. Se les cocinaba bastante aguado de gallina para sostener todos los familiares y para ayudar mantener despiertos los que amancecen con el cuerpo.
En esos tiempos se utilizaba piñon e higuerilla para hacer los jabones para limpiar y para que uno se bañe.
It is a privilege that my lived experiences are not always Black. My life experiences have been marred by physical, sexual and mental assaults due to my proximity to Blackness and my gender presentation. Also, I am sometimes safe due to my gender and racial ambiguousness. This is not an application for the Oppression Olympics, I’m just contemplating how I’ve made it to 35 when so many Black and Brown folxs have not. The average life expectancy of Trans Black people is 35.
How can we nourish ALL Black Lives?
I am very fortunate that I was schooled by my elders plus public and private schools in 3 states and 2 countries. I realize this as schools scramble to now inject some stories (they wrote) about my ancestors to check off the “diversity” boxes.
Last year when I’d wander off – through a lot of autumn – I would end up at graveyards. I sent photos to las Amigas del Alma group and a few other friends. I don’t know how to read dreams completely but I’ve got an accuracy in messages many times in the past including pregancies, births, deaths and divorces and a bunch of silly shit like hook-ups.
For most of Spring now (Summer viene) I’ve been seeing vultures and various black birds including getting my car shat on by some today. I’ve been dreaming of cats – Tiernx, in particular – probably since last year they were my travel companion and il me manque. Recently I’ve been seeing snakes in waking life and dormant and the other day when I was bonding with my godchild taking a walk outside. I also tend to see lots of birds with my last nibling. They are more empathic I think than the eldest nibling. The eldest has some of our clairvoyance. They seems to be developing a knack for patterns and for reading Pachamama. The eldest and the baby are gnc so far, which is dope – my family is in full support.
I drove 1234 miles to be here for Juneteenth 2020.
Tomorrow is historical and I will testify all that I witness in various formats.
#IfIEverDisappear is trending and some of the images are just non-sensical
“We are not fighting for near-death experiences”
If I go missing, I expect everyone who loves me to fuck shit up
Last week I finally went back to running as my foot’s cut skin is crackling and trying to stick together, not fully heal. My ass and thighs are good-sore; I sleep with hot & cold patches and creams feeling some type of way that my body aches because I choose to exercise, rather than it being a necessity as part of labor to create food or resources for my family or community. Though, also, my body requires movement to strengthen and make me more agile and flexible and healthy.
This week I’m in the southwest, ready to be united with others fighting towards liberation.