The regular contributors of Sula Collective came together and responded to the question: ‘What does healing look like for you?’ This is the third part in the series (read part 1 here and part 2 here) where we continue to explore how people of colour find ways to heal and document healing through various mediums.
My Tottenham skyline’s too crowded by all these cranes and it pisses me off more than when they scaffolded and boarded up the flat to fix up the roof or some dumb shit that cost my mum much more than it does to feed her hungry kids. They’re building some new stadium for all them football fans who give more life to this community than the government does. Ms Dynamite’s crooning from my CD player and I alternate between whining up my waist small small and headbanging. I would be bunning and bunning Babylon but I don’t smoke so I just keep staring. Thinking about nothing more than the moon swimming over the opposite block in the universe as lilac as my bedroom walls. Tings might never be so kriss as they was back in the day, so all I can do is be ok widdit or do the most to preserve what I love about our gutter lives here. There goes the prostitute my dad shouted at for hanging round the block too much. Her bredrin called him horrible and said she’d call the feds on him, too funny. Been there, done that, don’t work. We’re beautiful people too lazy to stop our decay sometimes. Blinging over it instead like say that’s protection, like say all our gold won’t stop getting sucked by them man who’s never been able to glisten like us if we don’t stand up taller. Kissing my rassclart teeth as I close up my wide window, try go back to sleep but it’s hard.
Coming to terms with my sexuality, last summer i’ve met and befriended many queer individuals online, who’ve dedicated their life sashaying any homophobic insults; and unapologetically being themselves. Being surrounded with such flamboyancy and researching LGBTQ creatives in the art realm extensively, I finally felt a sense of connection with myself. I’ve made a promise that I wouldn’t be ashamed to express feminine characteristics (whether it be in mannerisms or appearance), gossip about attractive male/non-binary personalities with others, or donning vibrant lip colors (god bless LimeCrime!). As I await for whats to come, ill be frolicking to italo-disco starlet Ilona Staller’s “I Was Made for Dancing.”
“You got me rollin’ like a wheel on the road
Turnin’ round and round, nowhere to go
I’ve got to find out if you’re feeling it, too
It’s hard to tell, so here’s what I do
And every time I want more
I’ll take you out on the floor
I was made for dancin’
All-all-all, all night long
I was made for dancin’
All-all-all, all night long”
model: Branden Ruiz
Sula Journals is a weekly column where, usually, a staff member/regular contributor of Sula Collective posts a reflective blog post or diary entry in any form they want. To find out more about our regular contributors, check out our Staff page.