A lonely paradise

I often have this internal dialogue with myself. On books or papers I’ve read. My head is like a lonely paradise. Sometimes I just don’t want to talk, I just want to think. It’s so hard to convey what I think to people.

Now I’ve truly begun to understand the need to filter my own thoughts. Sometimes I fail but I don’t really care, the principle is still there.

I feel like because I don’t have friends with chronic illness, life gets a bit lonely in that sense. Not many people around me understand the pain I’m in. Although it’s not as bad as it used to be, I suspect my pain levels are slowly rising again. I don’t believe it’s due to inactivity however, I attribute it to the worsening of my conditions which will naturally get more painful with time.

I’ve finally started to question myself through a feminist lens. Am I truly a feminist if I exist within the patriarchy and still don’t challenge it? Why do I still put up with blatant sexism? Surely then I was never a feminist but am only becoming enlightened now. When the female body has been oppressed and controlled at the hands of men for centuries, it makes you question your own position in society. Not only economically but, culturally and socially too.

It is a paradise but a lonely one. It is only me and myself talking. She’s smart and bright. The drive within is still there but withers day-by-day. I love her because she is me.

I used to think I was corrupt and so was my body but I don’t think that’s the case anymore. This body is mine and no one else touches it unless I want them too. I’m not in a headlock by some savage white man, quite literally the epitome of violence inflicted by the patriarchy. Nor am I controlled and coerced my another minority seeking ‘freedom’ from the constraints of fatherhood. Fuck the patriarchy.

It’s a lonely paradise in here but I love it.

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