IF ONLY FOR THE NIGHT, an I Was Never Here zine.
A dizzying sleepwalk, trudging through the midnight oil spilled, the shadows flickering in the corner of these eyes that can no longer tell apart, the aimless search for warmth, the endless loop home, fading fast, shivering cold, hand empty if not for a slow-breathing heart.
.
.
.
Wanted to make something for my big day and also do something good so I put this zine together but will not be selling for my own profit. If you want this 16-page (including covers) digital zine, all you have to do is give some mutual aid, whether it's for Palestine, Sudan, Congo, Haiti, or right in your city, in your own neighborhood. I just ask that you donate at least $10 to the mutual aid of your choice. It's ultimately the honor system but send me a dm with payment proof and I'll send you the zine in 24-48 hours.
Take care of one another, be safe.
In moments, much like this one, I find myself feeling too tired to say what we should have grasped and fixed long ago. For a moment the thought persists – the same story, another black man murdered by police. But that thought does not feel heavy enough to express the soul crushing weight of police brutality. This is not just another story for the nightly news to skew, not another day of being black, it may have become a norm but it is not normal by any means. This is the harsh reality that we are born into and too many of us die by the hands of. This was reality for Alexander Spencer & will always be the reality of those who had him ripped away by these blue-blooded killers patrolling our streets, sanctioned by a mayor that champions stop & frisk.
It truly doesn't matter that the police who killed him are black or that our mayor is a black woman, the structures and mindset, the policies and procedures in which they operate are under the umbrella of this capitalistic, white supremacist system – they serve, protect, and uphold this reality. Those who put on the uniform and shine that over watcher badge is not merely representing a government department, but are giving themselves to a force that fights against the people. The police is a force that does not move the people along or forward, but violently attempts to hold us in place, to keep us in line.
So they give us no choice, we must become a force ourselves, a force that at its fiery core is made up of the very opposite of what our systems are. Our force is made of love, accountability, bravery, morality, justice then peace, grace, understanding, selflessness, joy, and gratitude for one another. We are the force that moves us along, forward.
Alexander Spencer should be with his loved ones right now, this much I know.
#JUSTICEFORSPENCE
To us, the people, beaten down but never defeated:
For far too long we have savored only the grains of light that slither between the silver lining of clouds. We have abandoned our search for the sun. So, we wait and wait and die waiting for a crack in the sky, for one ray of light to show us mercy, to beam us up out of our troubles, hoping it will fill us so that we may never hunger or thirst again. And we die wondering why our god(s) has not given enough to us,. Yet, there are those who know that it is not god(s), who are said to give and take with reason, but the selfish desiring of these earthly men that take with no conviction to give anything of worth in return. Men filled not with the light we all secretly and loudly pray for, but with a darkness that takes their humanity and stomps their anger like grapes into bitter hatred, as if turning water into wine. And we have, in our moments of desperation, in our crawling for sustenance, when we have abandoned ourselves, when threatened with life or death, drank from their cup. And while that bitter wine has many times fallen into the pit of our stomach, we know better than to let it sit. We must make quick waste of it before it clouds our eyes, minds, and hearts, and even if it does, keep hope, for it is with our spirit alone that we feel the flowing of true light, a light we must run towards. With all we have in us we must run for the sun. We have already faced the fires, the waves, the wind, the trembling of earth, the sword, the lead, the rope, the whip, the cross, the gas chamber, the bombs, the wilderness, the beasts, and the darkness...and now we are here.
The morning hands rip heads out of bed, in clumps, undone & in a hurry, now waiting in the cold between splitting ends, standing together alone, all with somewhere important to go, diverting eyes, everyone just tryin to get by, the car stays silent the whole ride, no matter that the day is new, nor the year, still sitting on the same slow commute, here's to another day around the loop.
