built up my walls to avoid this reinforced them with metal lined up the windows with wood bolted the doors Swore on my life that I wouldn't let anyone through but I missed a hole in the corner and a little mouse snuck in somehow; undetected but I let it roam as it pleased It wouldn't harm me?
While working my routine at Amazon picking the same items I always have before I was trans shipped to trans ship filling me with anxiety understanding unfamiliarity nerve racked novice sweat trickles down my face soaking into my PPE.
Two man crew I'm meant to join black guys wearing reflective vests "I'm here to help, can you help me?" blank stare foreground empty workload background perplexed aesthetic French accented walls muffle communication I form a reluctant alliance with repetition yet my counterpart understands everything I say.
Their patience eases my troubled mind when my capability falls short of my enthusiasm hand gestures guide me free of frustration I stay silent, only saying "I'd talk more but I figure it'd be a hassle" my learning ambassador understands but his extra steps start a conversation creating comforting small-talk acclimating aliens.
Sydna and Josue from Ivory Coast and Congo respectively and respectful was all I wanted to be yet I got the impression Josue was uncomfortable after I had brought up gold, diamonds, and oil but Sydna had taken control of the conversation telling me all about the lottery he won to be here I wondered what lottery's prize was living in Cincinnati to work a factory job in Hebron.
We work bundling totes together printing confusing and mysterious tags reading ACY, CMH, SDF, JFK, or CSG these bundles will be leaving CVG eventually carried away on skids to their indifferent destination of the same capitalist company just at another fulfillment center.
I guess I should be more grateful to be in the poor nation of transportation but I'm not—I'd rather be picking where I can communicate with compatriots freely but I'm far away from the south mod now near the north side red tag area talking to strangers it's just a shame because there's plenty of material where I came from but transitory shipment is where the work is.
I'm crying for a girl who never existed. One who failed but always persisted, to try and figure out what makes one woman. these thoughts about gender felt like a shout, but this 'girl' was still figuring it out. Now this person mourns the loss, of this gender that felt like an albatross.
really just needing to put my thoughts down somewhere -
I've only ever wanted to lead a quiet life, I've found peace and comfort in being a homebody. I'm an introvert but I cherish the time I get to spend with the people in my life and they make my world so bright and I will never be able to put into words how much appreciation I have for them.
Identity is a sacred thing, because at the end of the day it's the lens that you see life through.
Remember that. When you wake up and you sort through the sea of thoughts and emotions, you get to stretch and feel complete and you taste that first sip of water that starts your morning... in those little bits of your day where you feel at home, you feel like you...
it's your life, it's your identity and you should never have to defend that.