TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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(It could wear me down, the differences between you and I; I want our relationship to always be about what we do together, not this is who you are and this is who I am.
Sometimes I hafta bite my tongue because I just don't want to hurt you . . . Now I feel, too often, that those parts of me that are adamantly political in feminist, anti-racist, anti-imperialist ways have become repressed, in the end, by myself. The fear of rejection. The fear of your contempt. The fear that a separation by certain degrees is imminent and necessary.
And, it's true, of course, that these differences between you and I shall never be bridged by the silences I have abetted.)