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African American identities are often flattened, homogenized, and reduced to a form of shorthand or a taken-for-granted concept, such as 'the black experience', 'the black voice', 'the black family', and 'the black community'. But no essentialized, immutable, or true 'identity' is ever waiting to be found just below the surface. Rather...identities are conditional, contingent, elusive, and 'always in process'.

A Chosen Exile: A History of Racial Passing in American Life

#A Chosen Exile: A History of Racial Passing in American Life #Allyson Hobbs #other people's writing #novel research #here not here #currently writing

shift

This is going to be hard for me. The more I try to think about it, the more I slip into shift. Shift, yeah, that’s what I’ll call it. But I think I gotta tell someone, I think I might be going crazy.

I’ll be standing on a street corner and see something that reminds me of another time, or be laying in bed and the light will be just right, but then again, it’s not. Or sometimes, it happens when I am just sitting here talking to someone, like I am to you. Suddenly it’s like the world drops away, it’s all too familiar but, strange.

I think what it is, is that this, has happened, it’s happened infinite times. This moment occurs in refraction, splitting into millions of possibilities. Like, at any given second millions of universes could happen, choices could be made, but our form of existence is deterministic so we can only see straight lines. But I think maybe it looks more like synapses, branches, vertices.

I think, I could be seeing these moments. Not all the time, but when I do, I get a feeling of deja vu and the blood begins to pump in my ears, it’s happening now, I can feel it. I need to get this out quick before I shift to a place I didn’t write this.

The more I focus on it, the further I fall. I want to see what happens when I let myself lean into that feeling, but I’m scared. It’s like making yourself look under the bed. Like waiting for the needle to plunge into the vein. Like holding your breath underwater, just a moment longer.

I can pull myself out by trying to focus on something solid, but when I do, I collapse the possibility stream, I lose it. But there’s something there... under all the sick feelings, something important that nags at me to understand it. So, I wonder, why these moments? Why'd my brain connect with these seemingly meaningless times. Will I understand someday? Or am I going insane.

#shifting realities #here not here #brainsoup

Here not here... I hope you enjoyed my queue while I was spending some time unplugged. I plugged back in today to check on the “world” with no intent to return to regular blogging as of yet. I didn’t miss blogging or checking my feed while I was away. I did find myself missing people. Some of you are pretty damn special. I have a few messages queued for later this year and next year. In the mean time I plan to log on to check for chat messages. Take care of yourselves. 😊 dragonessexpressions

#here not here #blogging break continuation