Written by We had a blog on Canva before. It was written close after the effect of “The Stellar” TTRPG that we created took its toll as well as life circumstances of Founder, Aleya Jobson. It may be peppered with opinion and some ill-effects of the writing process and reflect a perturbed mental state. That said, there’s still some good and useful stuff in there.
Enjoy.
Because I Stayed So Long (Poem) 09.06.24
Because I let myself stay
And try to make you see the way
Out of your corner of cynicism
I have lost my innocence
I have lost my confidence
I have lost my spotless mind
Because I let myself stay
And try to make you see the way
Out of your corner of edginess
I have thought like the worst
I have entered thought bubbles like hearses
I have been my worst self
Didn’t have to be this.
Is this the loss of privilege?
I lose my family support
And don’t get paid for what I’m worth…
That’s what the Hollywood is for.
The forest of golden opportunity doors
Where they backpay your troubles.
I did not know my country
Was run by crazy baldheads
As much as by the rasta
Whose fascist chants for death
Haunt my widesplit mind
That wonders if there’s any truth there
For how can one be so persuaded of a mentality of hate
Without irrefutable evidence?
Is education so poor
That skepticism and source examination
Is lacking and prejudice prevails?
I don’t argue human rights.
I thought once perhaps that would help.
It does not. It only gives them time to come up with their own response to each point.
Rendering the process pointless with false equivalecies.
A person filled with hatred becomes a source of hate but
A person, devoid of hatred much like BASTARDS of old now accepted,
If only a receptacle and source of love,
The problem disappears and eventually so does the prejudice.
The ones whose deaths my countrymen chant for
When filled with love alone and the longing for it
Then it will be done
But for now, the fascists I casually live amongst
Bastards themselves who have somehow escaped Shakespearean curses;
Formerly enslaved;
See no irony.
Deadlands
A Death World
Or irony
And loss
And sadness.
My mind was once my happiest place
And now, thoughts of death cultists swirl
Thoughts of blackkk and white skinheads
Thoughts and thoughts of superstitions perhaps being my saviour
Since reason has led us to the brink of death somehow
A world where do not know how to eat or flush it out
Without causing our ecosystem damage.
Everyday,
All day,
And the answer is so simple.
Make our world anew in the pursuit of life
Not the escape from death.
Find the death cultists and predators providing doubt and sick suggestions,
Like the one to pollute our drinking water with our effluent.
This is what you taught me after all.
That there is evil.
You said it.
You spoke to bigots and
“They were not joking, they were very serious.”
Evil exists.
You wanted me to know.
I know now.
I explored their thought bubble.
Resentfully.
So perhaps thanks are in order
But that is my overly innocent shadow mind
Hanging on
Wishing to smooth things over.
Things were always good with her
But she sang in the midst of misery,
A dying world that did not even know
What to do with its shit.
Perhaps in making me grow up
And be more realistic,
My time with you has made me
A problem solver
Who will truly have earned
And can safely wear
An actual spotless mind.
So I will in fact thank you.
But not now.
At the end.
When I will have WON.
With some kind of love,
Aleya
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