Journal excerpts
1st June. 10:07am.
Got my first digital poem publication acceptance! (Anti-Heroin Chic)
11:14pm.
& (have lost count) a rejection.
2nd June. 6:45pm.
Time in Quarantine: every second day an extension of the first. (clothes, leftover lipstick & mascara, state of mind)
8:23pm.
John 8:46 “Which one of you convicts me of sin? If I tell the truth, why do you not believe me?”
The MM fiasco on Instagram. (The beginning of an epic tale/poetry?)
6th June. 1:08am
On call with S; got an acceptance email from a digital poetry magazine. Should I start documenting it?
13th June. 11:09pm
دریا بولے واہ رے پنچھی
سر آنکھوں پہ ناؤ ہے تیری
22nd June. 5:34pm
As opposed to how I have spent much of my life as I remember it, working on not praising instant gratification & instead focusing on, & trusting & enjoying the process. The result is a result, it is the journey you take together (case in point: all my relationships!)
Poetry drafts
i)
These cysts on my shoulder, three-
headed dogs, fluff. I can’t move
my neck: a heavy muscle, external,
pressurizes me to the ground. A man sits
on my shoulder.
(this is the only recurring image)
ii)
You have fallen in love with my dogtooth,
& I, into God’s hands.
Questions, questions…
When will we be able to write about our love, our sorrow, our grief, our deaths without constantly having to reiterate our humanity (on grounds of those who have already laid out for us what it means to be human)?
I want to stop saying: I am more us than them.