Back on the farm, I used to collect eggs in odd spots. Since the chickens were all uncaged, free to roam and do as they wish, I’d have to hunt around in the chaos for their little caves with hidden eggs. Sometimes I’d pick up 2 or 3 eggs at a time. I always felt a little bit upset knowing we’d be stealing something quite precious from them. I’d watch the other mother hens and observe their bright yellow chicks follow behind in a uniform line.

I loved my dog Billy. I was a little bit older when we got him and I so distinctly remember he was a chunky puppy, especially because he was a border collie. There’s something unique and special about farm dogs. I loved watching them just exist. Being on the farm, that was their playing field.

It’s been so many years but I can still hear you inside my head. I can hear you put me down or criticise me. You’d pick at my flaws, highlight them, bringing them to the forefront of my mind, reminding me of insecurities already swirling around in my mind. You fetishize the white body, a projection of inadequacy on being a person of colour. Arrogance fed by the fact you’ve gotten into your dream career, without acknowledgement it was handed to you on a silver platter.

Let me tell you the reality, anything you do, anything you become, it was given to you.

2020 was a year of depression. The world was in chaos and in a state of anarchy. The pandemic hit and George Floyd died. Donald Trump was still President of the United States. Extended lockdowns, curfews, restrictions, mask wearing, online studies, isolation. Society divided, splintered further than ever before.

The death of George Floyd was a significant turning point in the 21st century, at least in my own eyes. For me, it was the undeniable fact that racial inequalities still exist, not just in America, but across the globe. Racial profiling is so pervasive that the unjust death of a person of colour could be filmed for the rest of the world to see. It sparked controversy everywhere, it allowed for the revitalisation of a movement in Australia to shed light on Aboriginal deaths in custody.

“I have not the courage to destroy the lie she so wishes to be true.”

I avert my eyes from the screen. I don’t want to see the little blob unformed. It weights more heavily on my conscience now more than it has before. I’ve graduated, time is up. There are no more valid excuses. Time to buckle up.

We always think we have more time than we actually do. We wait and wait until one day we are old and grey. We wish we took that trip when we had the chance, maybe we even wish we said I love you to the ‘the one that got away.’

I put it off. My life was on pause but reality was moving forward. In my mind time had frozen, but that’s not how it works. Weeks turning into months until you are a fully grown human baby. Even then, my mind is still frozen back to the time where I’m staring down looking at two pink lines on a pregnancy test.

I sometimes just question if people are actually smart or if they just say a bunch of words which form a coherent sentence. You can have a wide and diverse vocabulary and yet everything you say can be trash.

Deleting all our old messages was freeing. No more obsessing over the old us. Purging your ugly *ss from my life. Delete. Delete. Delete.

I was searching for something in a book I once read. Even reading highlighted quotes still moves me. I will reread Macleod again soon

“..hoping to find such strength for the living of my life and the meeting of my death.”


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