the radon files

It's so awkward as a theorist of collective trauma to admit that how people "heal" is beyond human comprehension and that no discipline truly understands it. There is no formula. Psychotherapists guess, sociologists theorize, pharmacists, doctors, biologist study prescribe and hypothesize, but no one has a straight shot to the soul. No one has an accurate Map of the World as no one needs a map of where they cannot leave.

Queers We Have to Mourn Our Childhoods From Hell Just as middle class white suburban straight society could not see me I now being middle class and in their midst Cannot see my pain either.

A moment of silence for the way my mother and suburbia and then my father turned me against myself.

I take my own wounds seriously They ask me to speak for them No one can tell me that I am not who I say I am. They can make me believe it for a time But I wake, I rise. Heterosexuals do you understand the mindfuck that was done to queer people That were were hynotized into thinking we felt things that we did not That we were people we are not, And now we still wonder. The brink of that wonder, sitting on the that brink Is hell. No one was there to see the pain. Can they even see it now? What volumes we carry within us. Little boy didn't know a sword was there always at his waste. Always heroic is the truth. Always a hero, nothing less.

She woke and no one was ever there. She had no one asking for her, nothing pulling her anywhere And for that, she could cry Obligation was poison She struggled and suffered against the weariness The cold folding moments around her. She struggled against them to float To buoy up Aimlessness assaulted her and she could hear in her head all the things that never happened Never could, never did. Until they are here, I will not be able to rest She had lost a family but it was a family she never had They haunted her like ghosts She didn't want it, she didn't want to toxins That toxic narcissism, the lies, walking through the spikes again But with the baby left the bathwater And she was cold Here longing to be immersed in warm water. It taunted her. Yes it was as though everyone had left now she was stranded in some other land She could neither go back Nor live here alone In a past life, she lost her children, her family It was painfully unfair She could f...

Does pain ever go? Healing is a narrative of moving on, letting go. Of finding the thing and thus the thing will be changed, will be rewoven into some other fabric. And with trauma, they say, this is where the repetition happens. The repetitions are because you are not healed. Are they? Pain arises again and it is just exactly the same as it always was. And she thinks: I have no moved. And she becomes upset in that. Can't she hold it? Can't she love it enough to change it, to remember it differently, to reroute herself from this early pain, this regression. And no. Dark things fall over this life. She grew up with people expecting to have a schedule and a direction. She grew up with her parents making plans and being logical. No one stayed in bed and stared at the wall through the afternoon. Why does having no agenda feel Too much Last night her student had this feeling that emotions need a direction some time, that to have no action on them, no direction or narra...

I thought it left me but it hadn't. Understand what force is. Force is both the prison industrial complex....and also us any time that we force. And the way we think we can force. Or force ourselves. What are we locking away unjustly? The subtle walk between force and what is simply there. This is the relation of your life. This is the dichotomy, the atlas of your heart. Two nations....or maybe one nation denying the presence of the other. One race denying the presence of the other. We repeat it here and now. It will resound until eternity. And will it even be refracted? Or just the same sound in our ears. In your head. Zombie.

In A Map of the World, (The Feeling Atlas) the author creates hir own simple language for socio-psychological emotional geographies. Strikethough, side by side, saying hi, etc are all terms she uses to map the fabric of "quantum dimensional" social life. This allows C to stop the expected flow of formal academic professionalism that distances thought from action and critical thinking from what she calls critical feeling and feeling from praxis or action in its tracks. For C, these are all part of whiteness' deluded social reproduction and turning in circles. She stakes the claim that disrupting it may seem hard by is actually incedibly simple. As simple say what she calls "saying hi." High theory and low theory, on the map she creates, collapse. Critique for C is Deleuzian in the sense that she undoes what conventionally "goes together"or seem solid---such as the academic and the formal---and then treats as a unity things which are not supposed to be...

Professionalism Professionalism is the practice of emotional distance that allows capitalism to happen It's where we pretend we don't know each other when really we do It is most suspect And probably incredibly bizarre to ancient peoples We sit waiting under the film Under it For the strikethrough of eternity Which is as simple as saying hi Or as I realized from sitting meditation and a practice we did As simple as looking into someone's eyes with a good intention Hi. When you say hi Say it with everything

Side by Side walking the brink. i rest on the surface like a film. my life is a film. side by side lovers never touching. you told me to do that with myself. you told me to do that with love. still i follow you. my entire life is now that relation. side by side. it repeats to infinity. the actors change the script remains the same. in each thing you do, infinite repetitions like a quantum 

The paper holds you after a while You begin to be proud of it You begin to dance a little Moving from what a thing must do to asking what is it doing. The ones who don't know, who are scared, will learn more by watching you cry Than any lecture. They will watch you go from side by side to plunging to the heights of what really is. From film on the surface To the drama that is the map of the world

Time's Strikethrough It's a strikethrough. The past projects a future. But whatever that imagined future is, controls the present. The end of the narrative controls, constructs, what will be now. In certainty that the end is triumph, everything is a strikethrough of that triumph. It tells us how memory works. Ironically linear time does not control memory. The past and the future and the present will be used here only as constructions or conventions of speaking. This will be the first account of collective memory where the past does not define memory and where memory is studied outside of linear notions of time. The terms past and future skew so much. And why do it? Not for study but for healing. But also not for an outcome. Maybe for beauty where beauty has no outcome and that no outcome means that you are  healed.

An Accurate Map of the United States would mean digging within a moment. And every metaphor is both accurate and a failure: digging or excavation of the mind's unconscious, something that is eternal or "always there," a way of contouring the brain and its time in duration like steeping tea. A thing you lost and have to find again, actually, because we are "fallen angels who remember heaven," as the philosopher who studies Gnosticism has told us. Osho says we are always seeking something, and that when we start asking what we are looking for, the search begins to end.