I fight foremost not to die.
He asks me how I feel about it. What's my perspective? You've clearly shown dissatisfaction with the matter. What do you do to fight it?
And I stare at the rugged up patterned blood-like red carpet briefly before turning my eyes up towards the black leather-covered foam-filled armchair and soon to him. Not mad, really, feels natural.
Been' fighting for 16 years, still losing.
Even when it seems I'm not fighting, I am.
In a world where my expression might get me killed, going to the grocery store is a political act.
Yet they expect me to talk about it
What they fail to realize is that my identity is not a hobby. Being non-conforming is my life, it's who I am. At no point am I not expressing it. It's in each breath I take. Can't help but laugh when people talk about "trans artists who talk about being trans".
No shit??
We're always "talking about it" it's who we are. Never are we not talking about it. It's you who, wether by some internalized discrimination or deliberate action, doesn't listen. It is you who rolls your eyes and pretends not to listen until we reach a breaking point screaming at the top of our lungs at which point you ask "Oh, why didn't you say it sooner?" or "Why so angry? Why so emotive?" as if we owe you any fucking explanation.
But I digress.
In some way, I feel related to those who came before me and experienced the same things I have. Same shit, different time.
In some sort of pseudo-para-social way, I feel connected to them. I feel some sort of tender family-like bonding to those expressing themselves before me. As my ancestors, if it weren't for them, I wouldn't be standing where I am. Constant fighting.
And still, we're losing. I look at the blank wall and the poorly aligned framings. Right, still here. Sometimes anger can make us forget.
Despite being misaligned, the painting's inner beauty shines through external imperfections. A young girl tries to look at me, but her eyes are blocked by a thick layer of paint. I believe it's "eyeless" by Hélène Delmaire, 2015-ish.
We fight foremost not to die.
We didn't get there yet.
In the race for the number one most dangerous country for trans people, we get to be number one.
I fight foremost not to die.
