I am who I am. I will always be this. One cannot stifle the creativity of their mind’s movement– nor shall I be distracted by a device made for machines, to make my eyes feel heavy & my knowing sound extreme. There is poison in my food and the air that I breathe. I am filled with toxins, yet cannot remember consenting? A rape of a culture or the colonization of a mind? I guess the grapes shall unfold, through the elasticity that is time
thepoliticsofkendra.com 