anxiety-riddled, my head is a constant battle of sounds and feelings crashing like waves into each other; interference scares me. as does being out of rhythm, missing too many beats — i am conflict-averse but i am also realistic:
i know that sound travels faster through solids and liquids than through the air, can be distorted and interfered into oblivion— that when push comes to shove, whisper networks can only reach so far.
scores of screaming matches between metoo advocates and r#pist apologists crescendos of nails scraped across a board feel a bit too familiar like listening to white noise and broken records on repeat while scrolling through toiletpaperworthy nonapologies witnessing victims collectively crying in an orchestra of agony and then be blamed for attention-seeking at best, of causing their own suffering at worst.
although it pains me to listen to these tragic tunes, it is amusing how so many mishear this collective choir as survivors celebrating with silly receipts in cancel parties serving blistering hot tea sweetened by revenge - no
all this is anything but cathartic.
it’s to make people aware that the same melodies are sung or screamed by those who suffered similar pains and so that those of a similar frequency know there are those who listen that their voice matters and we are not alone.