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Writer's pictureMarie Tattiana Aqeel

I have a feeling.

I'm not sure if it's triggered by somethings or if it's opening me up to triggers or if it's an allergic reaction to the food I've been eating. I'm sad. Since I've noticed this sadness, other stuff has come up and reminded me that I'm sad about it. I'm sure of the relationship between processed foods and mental health. This could absolutely be a result of my change in diet for the past few weeks. Or it could just be a phase. The moon was full and is still strong. My menses is coming in less than a couple weeks. My body is preparing hormonally. Hormones can make ya feel wacky things. I talked to my homegirl though and she's in the same place. Helps to know.


I feel sorry about the trash, about desperation, about having to blend and feel hidden, about someone I miss and shouldn't, about the state of food, state of our relationship to the earth/to ourselves, about fearing how men see me and about wanting to change.


I wish women- the women who are older than me, who could be mothers or already are- would be more discerning about the men they choose to lay with. I get it. I've been swift to sex before. But now I understanding what it feels like to a child to watch their mother give herself away to someone who doesn't deserve it. It sends a confusing signal. Mothers are gods. And if a god should choose to mate with a mere mortal, then that mortal should at least be aware of their luck and treat her with the respect of worship.


"This art saved a youth from the hood."

The game chose me.

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