No More
Presidents

Jeff gave me a wand. It’s gold and silver tinsel taped to a long plastic stick. Later that night it felt like my flag, one I can feel proud to twirl. The way the light sparkles on the tinsel is enough to make me smile.

I hate the u.s flag.

I don’t think people realize we are in an active occupation, an active genocide. The nationalism makes me sick. It’s that nothing I can do will ever be enough feeling, it’s the spiral that more generations will die so white supremacy can live feeling. Democratized genocide. For now I twirl Jeff’s wand in the air, like I’ve seen the queens do, to make my girlfriend laugh as I dance in my room. I dance to feel invincible. I dance to move the fear through and out my body. I dance to sustain.

I am too numb with anger to move. Like I don’t have enough time to process what it means to have half our country vote for another four years of facism. Are white supremacists the minority, I’m uncertain. It feels like facism is taking over globally.

While liberals are cheering for Biden, I am still too angry to celebrate. I know we need a win. I know we need to celebrate together. To be in a room together. To dance together. Oh fuck, it’s been so long since i’ve been in a crowd.

It feels like nothing I can do will be enough. Enough to house my neighbors, enough to provide food and shelter to everyone facing eviction. Ok but what can I do and with what time? I have to get to work.

While I spin my wand like a drill team captain, she says “we can’t lose it all, unless we are ready to lose it all”. Am I ready to lose it all? If it means everyone has a warm bed, then yes. What are we holding on to? What are we holding on for? When will risk become irresistible? I think of the ancestors that fought for my existence and I think of our ancestors, I will fight.