the anthropology of june

i am consumed with ideas of mobility and movement
i am consumed with the idea of understanding what home is
I am consumed with the politics of fluid conflicts
with the plight of those that flee from them
told that thy will be killed there and their not wanted here
in between hate and hatred- they make choices...

I am garbling with idea how nation states can dictate what we can can do with our bodies, what is in the politics of covering that scares people into fear- all she wants to do is be herself- cover whats hers - why must you see it?- what happened to choice- or does she only have the choices you give her... Who are you to tell her shes in a coffin? Maybe just maybe your coffin is her freedom...

I waited for a revolution?- but Iran was just another battlefield for opposing world systems- again those that lost the the most -frustrated masses- that wanted change- not knowing what it will look like and what it should be...but were willing to die for it.

June was like a blink - I battled the evils of dyslexia , chased a dream, laughed with family, celebrated traditions, got a glimpse of how hollow loss is... I grew in June! But now i want a youthful July...