dona

On one hand, I know the self is a made-up concept of the mind, that identity should be kept small, and that trying to pin myself down usually does more harm than good. On the other hand, when I sit down to write, I feel like every sentence disproves this

Do ideas have agency?

Do they crave to be shared?

To be reproduced, like humans?

And if ideas have agency, do stories?

Do we tell stories, or do stories tell us?

Do we make sounds, or do sounds make us?

Does it matter?

Probably not.

Either way, our job is simply to listen.

And in listening, pay attention, be present, and perhaps create something... See more

I'm watching a concept of stability, and the only constant I have ever known dissolve in front of me. This place I felt was home feels like a hollowed out crust of a forgotten memory slowly crumbling around me. I'm watching the dust collect in corners and fruit tree cycles without harvest. There is a feeling of laughter that was once here... See more

Maar – wil ek melodramaties vra –

het ek al dié absurde myle uit die niet afgelê om net

die wit oom te speel wat niks

behalwe sy bevoorregting het

om te verklaar nie niks

van magtelose woede en onreg verstaan nie gegiet

in ’n white body [...]?

I was not a cartoon villain, I was just the evil front desk receptionist.

Aren’t we all still quivering

like tuning forks

with the shock of being,

the shock of being seen?