i want to share this link called "on rage and the medical industrial complex", because it is so fucking true, raw, clear. It's from To The Other Side of Dreaming, and you should check it out. From the description: "Mia Mingus and Stacey Milbern are two queer disabled diasporic Korean women of color in the process moving from the South to the Bay to create home and community with each other. This tumblr documents their journey."
And i'm adding some thoughts this (and a conversation earlier today about honouring multiple expressions of experiences of oppression and identity and community and change, including rage/ anger) brought up for me...
Gimps, so many variations of experience/ history/ present/ future, but there are these threads that connect so fucking deeply sometimes it just pulls something out from me. Damn.
You know what i want to do one day? i want to be in a group of only gimps, and i want us to hold space for each other somehow, to release (not to get rid of, not for me anyways) rage. Because it gets so tiring to always feel i need to contain, reframe, sugar coat, explainexplainexplain how it feels like this sometimes.
i need like, a release valve sometimes, and i know other gimps do too. A space, place, in the woods somewhere, in the middle of a city street, i don't know, just somewhere anywhere to be able to let it go (again, not get rid of, not for me). To scream at the top of my lungs if i need to. To bellow out some agony. To release rage and anger and end-point frustration and the hundreds of little rages multiplied by the hundreds of lunar rages, and everything in between and beyond without having to defend it or me or my right to feel something deep and intense and fucking overwhelming about this shit. To let it just flow out of me, no need to force it, just let it flow out, lay it in front of me so i know and you know it's real, here, present, actual. To drop to the ground and roll in it if i need to, beat fists into some earth to connect with it if i need to.
And i do need to.