Yes. Gosh this, so much. A boyfriend I had referred to his migraines as an act of “losing days”, the amount of work his body expends emulating in the middle of his life a full day from after his death, some sick gift to him packaged eith a body he couldn’t want and a name he couldn’t stand.
Changing his name was “easy” — the binary of “easy-or-hard” skewed so terribly far, for him, farther than any binary should try to span. His living with interpuncts of death days/zero-days between all other days where he’s taking me out on dates and his trying to carry a job and practice flow arts and write, eat lots of tacos only to find lots of laying in my lap as i scribble gibberish to escape my language-feedback-addled body and he checks out of his death-feedback-addled body.
Skill sets our curse-flooded bodies crystalize just by being like we’re in some fucked-up final fantasy theme, our bodies people and groups try to mine from our skill sets’ “unique”ness, these others “so lucky to have found” us, have at us, harvest us, what we are capable of matching their “needs”, like, yo, people, need less, use the money you save needing less to pay for my death days, pay for my loved ones’ death days, reduce harm, wait, get us a society where doctors care. While you do, write Luck you only have to experience death once — and that you’ve never had to live through it.
The “back off” sticks in the piece are so real! Thanks Kay! This reflection piece is great. Huge vibe lens. Lots of nodding along. Roll a great day soon 💞