A Long Dream

no one makes me feel like you do‌.

I read so much, I don't know where my ideas come from, or who is speaking when I hear what I hear. Is that how words become mine? Too many voices. Too much. A human being is not sufficiently evolved for the Internet. I remember with total clarity the line, the story, but never who spoke it. Blueberries - Ellena Savage

It don't matter what you're doin' People gonna judge you, do it That is just the way of the humans

Blueberries - Ellena Savage

I was in America at a very expensive writers workshop trapped in the middle of a pew listening to a pale man riffing when I thought-I don't know if it happened like this but maybe it did-I thought, I don't want to be a feminist anymore because I'm sick of complaining. I'm sick of sitting through‌ lectures like this and subliminally counting the number of female thinkers who are referenced, or not, thinkers from the colonies, thinkers who didn't do their thinking jus because they were given the freedom to, were expected to. I thought: it's humiliating, I'm sick of interacting with reedy tepid well-read men and I'm sick of writing from behind the injury of colluding in my own oppression and not saying anything new because all I want to say has been said by other women and better.