#walking practice

[giallohousewife]

[for-poetry-and-stuff]

The desire to become a member of society always overpowers the shame of being embraced by their system.

"Walking Practice" - Dolki Min

[for-poetry-and-stuff]

The sunlight is melting and dripping from the branches like raindrops.

"Walking Practice" - Dolki Min

[gribbletheturtle]

maybe the horror all along was the body and what society forces you to reflect back through it

[gribbletheturtle]

if gender commentary wasn't enough, we also get such a realistic portrayal of living with chronic pain as a young healthy looking adult who just can't ask for help

[gribbletheturtle]

[wm1nq]

now what if “hikaru” and mumu met

[peliginfields]

But there are steep stairs on buses. There are no-step buses now, but they’ve only just been introduced to the fleet. The first time I took public transportation, the height of the stairs was much greater than I expected, and I worried if I would even be able to climb them. All the stairs I had practiced on until then had been of negligible height and width. I grappled with gravity and climbed aboard the bus, claiming a small victory. The ascent was so laborious that I felt my bones might crumble, but the sense of accomplishment pleased me greatly. I thought the only thing left was to deposit my fare and find a seat. But before I could even catch my breath, the bus driver stomped on the accelerator, and I tumbled to the back and got wedged under the bench. I was coated in dirt and sweat and droplets of blood. Shocked, I couldn’t move a muscle. Nor did I have the leisure to feel shame. The driver swore like nothing I’d heard before, and the other passengers jeered. They didn’t even try to help. It never crossed their minds to reach out a hand, grab me by the tentacle, and pull me up. Ah, I was in far too disgusting of a state to arouse sympathy and a willingness to help. The high degree of concentration required to maintain my humanlike form was in tatters; my eyeballs drifted in opposite directions; my arms and legs contorted; and my abdomen swelled up like a balloon. They must have been thinking, if only you were just a little less repulsive, I would step forward and lend a hand.

-Dolki Min, Walking Practice, trans. Victoria Caudle