it all hits me at 7:57 pm and i don’t quite know how to articulate the journey of connect the dots that i am making in my head. rock knowledge meets jack and coke on the rocks meets the rock’s workout anthem “face off”. so many realizations collapsing on top of each other and for the life of me i can never tell what’s real and what’s just… “-ization” (suffix. american english- signifies the act or process of making or doing a thing)
example:
capital.ization - PRINTING IN ALL CAPS LIKE YOU HAVE REPRESSED RAGE FROM YEARS OF BEING PLEASANT AND LIKEABLE.
THAT. is real. with or without -ization.
i don’t like capital letters, if you haven’t noticed by now.
it’s 8:08 now and in my reality, this is a magic moment. breath and intention. so it is.
anyway, Face Off…
like, what are we actually fighting for or against anymore? i’m so tired. i keep saying but no one believes me. talking to walls is impossible, why do i bother? I want to justify my exhaustion. but that feels defensive and seems to always lead to another face-off. i know i’m not the only one. remember the florida-human who chewed another man’s face off? why do i??? there’s so much more i could use my brain for. anyway, i wonder how tired he was, for story’s sake.
it’s almost october, we can endure some macabre. but here’s a semi-responsible trigger warning for cannibal fantas-ization.
how many fucks would i have to give up to eat… a human cheek? and not in a “vorarephilia” typa way (thanks wiki!) but just like, pure animal to animal contact. what is the human thing that keeps me from actually eating my fellow person preoccupied with simply enduring existence?
social-ization? moral-ization?
i know, i’m milking it. i want to tell you to deal with it but i don’t know who “you” are. from here, it’s me and my screen and all these untethered thoughts no one really wants to hear.
i’ve strayed so far from the rock-bottom point of it all, if ever there was any.
rocks. the earth as final lover.
nature fetish-ization.
and that’s all the fucks i got left.
About the Creator
L Akinyi
𝕛𝕒.𝕛𝕦𝕠𝕜
she/ they / 🥑
rambles and scrambles ✍🏾
The Reluctant Reporter
"You can't send me!" "There is no-one else. It's you or no-one, and that is not an option." Ameera looked at the fat paunch and florid face of her boss, a man who lived for the story and the kudos it brought him but who rarely gave consideration to the people behind the drama. When had he become so hard? She reckoned that by the end of the year, he'd be dead, collapsed from a heart attack and she struggled to conjure any sympathy in that moment and instantly felt ashamed at displaying the same lack of compassion that he had.
By Rachel Deeming8 days ago in Fiction
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