JOY = BREAD
ECSTASY = DEATH
POWER = HATE
The closer you get to the real thing, the stronger the pull of the opposite force becomes. It feels like they're trying to kill you. Like them (white people, men, etc.) actually want you dead. They want to take you out of the fucking knees. YES YOU HURT ME. I thought you were my fucking friend.
The feeling of mastery. The keys underhand. The end zone dance. Serena's crip walk. The swan song of a ballet dancer. The moment when you nail it. What if it brings you the most joy possible? What if you touch god but that means your death? The higher you soar, the more you are punished. Challenged. Attacked. Persecuted. Shamed.
"It explores the utopian longings and the promise of a future world that resides in waywardness and the refusal to be governed."
"In this other life, it would not be necessary to take the place of acceptance and claim to be grateful."
- Saidiya Hartman