“Age of Juice.:
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I do not consent to anyone telling my story publicly but me.
I do not want to share my story publicly now.
I want to be safe, and left alone, and left to heal.
I need to stop worrying all the time about how every move I make as an individual, fairly young I’m reminded, I need to stop worrying about how my every move will be evaluated in the context of a project I worked on as a young person who very much needed a safe place to rest and heal, and was not given the guidance then of the importance, let alone understanding of, boundaries in how we share our gifts with others.
I am tired. I still worry about these things, but seeing how the community, my chosen community, has grown and thrived and seeded and reseeded itself around me has made me so proud, and grateful. Thank you. You know who you are. Thank you helpers. And thank you especially for the lessons you’ve taught me in how to help oneself. And the value of myself. Not as a character, but as a lady in her bathrobe in the morning, worrying about how she’s going to pay for groceries this week and turning the hose on the pot plant thieves and lecturing them on the disrespect of harming a family neighborhood at ten in the _______ morning, pardon my gall, but dudes, I mean dudes. Those are money. That is food in babies’ mouths (grl, the lemons are out for you next to the sidewalk chalk like I said they would be — good luck with those colds and I hope to have more to offer soon, I’m working on it anyways, you see I am. Don’t worry, I’ve got hoes for days, and I can use the handle for a fence post.) but dudes that is medicine.
Is anybody else seeing this??
Anyways. Here’s some rainbows.