I haven't been taking care of myself. Since I've been unemployed I've started smoking twice as much, all things even resembling water have been transformed into coffee, and I've been getting less than five hours of sleep a day. I've been productive, but the weekend has taken the life from me, made me feel the lack of sleep and nourishment.
I can't use the internet without seeing the images of Charlottesville, and the Nazis that look just like me. I'm having an identity crisis. Just a few days ago I posted about my hair, and now I can't stand it. I look in the mirror and see an alt-right poster boy. If I shave my head, I'm scared of the skinhead comments I'll get and have always gotten. I think about dying it into a rainbow just to distance myself from it, but I wonder if that'll be enough. Has the skull and bulls-eye tattoo I put on myself in the twelfth grade branded me as something I'm not?
I think about the furious eloquence of James Baldwin, and wonder how he got there. How was he able to transform his rage into an amplification device for his voice, rather than allowing it to swallow him whole? He lived his whole life with his blackness, and I'm only now being slapped in the face with my white skin.
Over a month ago, I wrote that being White needs a facelift, and that needs to happen more than ever now. But, how do we accomplish it? Do we just shut up, be allies and hope it will all blow over? Or, do we rally our side against theirs? Do we need more division? I don't fucking know, man, but for some reason I feel the responsibility. People have said that it's not up to me, it's not my burden--but if it's not mine, then to whom does it belong? We have to do something. I have to do something.
See? I came here just to say I'm too exhausted to write today, and that happens. I can't organize my thoughts right now. I'm too mad. Maybe something better will come tomorrow.
Writer, performer, producer and musician from Alberta.