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SCRAMBLER presents

06

Healing is Hard Work and Can Be Scary (or Terrifying) But Please Take Control of Your Life (Don't Tell Me What To Do)
by Ana Carrete

i have been a silent bitch in the times of crap
i have hated myself because it has woken up feelings feelings that have always been
there but i’ve hushed to feel better and to not be treated like a problem

when you have an accent and a white man enthusiastically says “wow! you sounded so
white back then!”
you may laugh at that man
because he is being A DEEK

people attack and make me uncomfortable but it’s not only me i think about

i think about others too
and combine the sadness
mine and theirs is not mine but i take it and make it mine i steal the feelings and i remix

i always assumed everyone was capable of empathy

why is that not a thing? please put an X mark on me

i am still recovering from way too much catholicism

i feel very aware of the selfish hiccups that interrupt empathy

the heaviest statement earrings ornamented by behaviors called sins

i have forgotten about how to be online and i have felt the need to change

i want to be online for others not for myself but then i selfie and who gives a shit?

LET ME LIVE! EVERYONE KEEPS DOING IT! AM I ALLOWED TO EXIST? feeling my
self consciousness too hard

i am looking for words for feelings
for changes and mental health

the internet is a window to our global problems and sexy pictures are a distraction

so many loved ones in so many countries fighting similar fights

blogs dedicated to dick pics where they rate cocks for fun

so many loved ones sharing their lives
meanwhile i am a bag full of eyeballs and feelings all the words are jumbled inside

i need to vomit

the internet feels like an open wound and the trolls poke at it
but my friends are over here disinfecting the bullshit

i can’t set rules for anyone but myself

“rules are meant to be broken” but i need some type of structure to feel sane but i also
need to NOT FEEL AND JUST DO

multiple daily emails about the shittiest executive orders

i used to imagine an audience reading and judging and sometimes enjoying now i don’t
know what to imagine when i get likes but we can’t make conversation

no one owes content to anyone and but

i don’t feel like sharing stupid,
light content when people are
being mistreated, banned, separated, incarcerated, persecuted, murdered

still, i want to connect and to lurk
still, i make no impact with my private accounts

still, i am so ignorant about politics
i need to google so much
it creates a conflict and a shame
and as i read these articles i feel my gaps

i read the pieces that contain the word “explained”

so many assholes are condescending and try to seduce me via impressing me with their
knowledge: PLEASE FUCK OFF!

someone subtweets me and is a dick about it
they go behind my back and i run into it accidentally
it is a highlighted tweet and it angers me for months
“do they really think they know me?” i am terrified of their perception i no longer share
my thoughts so they have no clue of who i am where i am or what i do and i feel 13 and
bullied

at the same time, why do you have to cowardly attack someone you don’t even know
personally? fuck you very much

at the same time, why couldn’t i stand up for myself instead of hiding behind buttons? at
the same time who gives a fuck? NO ONE move on please stop looping those thoughts

shame
shames me

i block usernames slowly
i open one app and block
i open another and hover over “block” and feel weak

being upset and uncomfortable is the fucking worst

somehow i find myself needing to reflect and go deep in it so i can find some answers first
and try to come up with solutions

i feel sloppy and i don’t want to sound that way I AM A CONTROL FREAK!

i feel the need to be loved and respected now more than ever

i want to hold hands if you are after that too

the sun is bright just like i like it and
we roll down grassy hills like in movies or maybe replace the filmic bullshit image for a
real one

what would you like us to do?

i complain about my parents because they guilt trip me so frequently


when i write this
it feels like i am writing down a sin
i have to confess but it’s not a sin
they are opinions and feelings that make me feel like a bad daughter and this makes me
uncomfortable again

i want us to be able to understand each other
but my mother sends me too many religious memes
she starts on thursday and continues multiple times per day then easter happens and
she texts about the pope

i appreciate some values sure and nope
but come on
i am a grown woman who has decided to leave jesus behind

she ignores and continues to fill my screen
i know i hurt her when i say i don’t believe but would she rather hear lies?

yes she would

i say no to church when she asks about it
i am saying no more often and it creates a melancholic distance

they continue to send religious chains my way via free messaging and calling apps
we avoid international fees at all costs
we want to erase the distance but it is there geographically

it separates
our souls are not 2090 kilometers away but wait
our souls? our spirits? our hearts?

the manipulation and demonization of POC’s bodies and minds is a gigantic problem
that needs to be shit on

i am becoming obsessed with shit-talking (talking about shit that is)

it feels healthy to talk about the shit that is everywhere
so that it is not just floating inside
little shits floating all around the body
that is not how things work but it can turn into a sensation tiny poops like surprise
emails from predators of the past

unwanted emails that compliment for profit i wake up vomiting the stress

what is this gag reflex called? oh, anxiety (????????)

it could be the memes though(???????)

inhaling collective despair or eating it for breakfast what choice do i have?
farting my way to the grave
shoving the dick in my mouth

i used to overshare everything so publicly but as i age employers have made me quiet

it is inappropriate to apply for jobs in san francisco when you are vulnerable online
they will tell you to share more suitable content
for profit

one time i described myself as “quiet” in middle school
and a bitch, back then my best friend, missread it for “cute” she disagreed and i felt a
very familiar sadness
a very recognizable disappointment that happens
when a person you love decides to mistreat your ass

casual aggressions piling on top of our collective bodies

i feel buried in shit when i hear things like this:

you are a different type of mexican i had never met i had met others that were
and i don’t know if this is racist or not but
there’s this corn called “mexicorn” and i laugh every time i see the cans in the store

what do people expect to provoke with their fucking comments? how do you stop a
person from attacking? you say
hey check it out i am emotional but i am

objectively angry objectively crying

i want to put a spotlight on the terror they create within and
to be see-through so they see my organs responding viscerally

i imagine the blood moving through my veins they can see the blood going up
like straws that are being sucked on
by the comments that harm and

they see other damaged organs
my colon for example is vulnerable and anxious

who the fuck told some people they were better than the rest? who the fuck actually
believes that?
who the fuck believes that so much?

what do you say to people when you feel attacked?
i am not asking for a friend
i am not sitting on this ejection seat waiting to be deployed either

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