I don't want to be known for my writing or clothes.
I want to be known for my anger.
Writing just seems to be the form where examples are the simplest and situations the realest.
My frustration is the fuel which my characters face and just limiting the value of my writing to good prose is Kubrick cutting the end of A Clockwork Orange to make a shallow movie about violence.
My work is my anger and everyone's anger at ignorance at those who will limit anyone to the background.
The further work is not about love, love is the aid to get us through society which we've created, born into and have to struggle with every day.
And love is the fuel, the fuel to the anger which I have to bear for being queer and deviant.
And I am not a love story. I am not something to cry over. I am something which should make you realize if you are at a privileged position that you should make a change, if you are discriminated, that you are not alone, that we should all have this fuel and should never just be limited to love.
Because our anger is valid.
We became our anger, so that the love will not only nourish us now, but later when all is done and we are no longer deviant to a society who hates itself.
Jamie. Gay. Genderfluid. Polyamorous.
Cursor made by: jamiecooksays.tumblr.com
I don’t think he exists and I’m mental and my body could be solely going numb by itself. My bed seems rougher than usual and my mouth is now fully numb and I wonder how much will I even last, I barely manage to eat cereal, my hands shaking whenever I try to cook and the city seems bleak and it ends up with me glancing at every clock, at every watch to make sure that I am nowhere near the time and I wonder what would happen if I stay inside, but it’s too strong and with a spinning head I should still head out-
and I do, the sprinklers already on me and I watch him, grin, twisting and I expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t his eyes the colour of the blood I’d be running and he doesn’t speak, the sprinklers making me wetter and I can’t help but keep staring at him-
What is the deal then?
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