Unbelievable


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Sobbed like a baby through this series.

Directly or indirectly, I have suffered a lot as a result of what men did to me, and what they continue to do to me, even when they aren’t there. I think about the Capabilities Approach and Martha Nussbaum, about the structural reasons I have been blocked from reaching my ‘fullest potential’, whatever that might mean. And I don’t just think of me and I don’t just think of sexual assault- but about all the other women (and everyone else across the spectrum who suffers from the binary construction of gender), and all the million ways in which we wear our scars every day and are yet are muted and unable to speak out, and fearful and shameful and all other kinds of things. It doesn’t matter what  cold, hard logic says because the embodied, real nature of injustice cuts deeper than any rational conversations around social justice ever will, and that is something that those  coming from a position of privilege do not understand, or perhaps cannot understand. That it isn’t just something out there, but something on you and in you in a million indescribable ways. It’s like the women say at the end of the miniseries Unbelievable- it is about your time, your job, your safety, the shrinking of your world and its possibilities, the relationships you are and are not able to maintain, the friendships you keep or lose and about the very person you could have become. These things can’t and won’t be put into material terms, cannot be explained away by logic, and no matter how much you read up on what all of this means, again and again, it doesn’t compare to actually feeling it within yourself.

 

Colors


I can’t see colors like I used to
Those vivid hues have disappeared
These spaces inside me mostly black
And the pills I swallow ever day white

For I could taste the metal sinking into my teeth
Through my gums, like poison in my veins
And into parts of my body that were left untouched
Only that bitter sense that I’m going insane

They took away the bits of me that believed
And now I hear them in my dreams, screaming
Their voices have turned into one collective sound
Like a singular wolf howling in my head

And I’m so far away from those cliffs now
But I can still hear the waves crashing
Caught between a rock and a hard place
I can only hurl insults at the timeless sea

Who knew the magic time could create?
In making the real unreal and the unreal real
I can’t see colors like I used to anymore
But I still find those shades imprinted on me.