top of page

On Allyship and Exhaustion



I am tired, sweet one.

I know. It's okay, you've been working hard.

Playing hard, sweet one.

I thought you were impervious.

Oh, sweet one, my perversity is ever present.

I am broken on the rocks that I am.

I am most pervious, little one.

Ever so pervious and permeable and porous and pour.

I am that I am, rock solid and pure gold and sand washed down river.

How is a rock a good ally?

Why do you have to talk in riddles?

Have you ever lived in a house?

And haven't I spoken to you about the perils of reason?

I'm in a house, you know that.

Where is the house, love?

On soil, on dirt...on rock.


Yes, sweet one.

It's a tree because of the way it is, then?

Yes, sweet one.

And the tree becomes dirt and dirt becomes rock and rock holds up the house because of the way it is...

Yes, sweet one.

How can I be the way I am, grandmother?

How can you not, sweet one?

But I change so quickly, grandmother.

Do you?

Yes, every day. I cannot trust myself to wake up the same person.

I am just—

Why's it just—

Why does everything happen so much all the time?

What if you gently unclutched your whys, sweet one.

Then I'd be left with hows and that is terrifying, grandmother.

Ah yes, terror, an old friend, murmurs Grandmother.

Yeah, I don't like her.

She doesn't mind. She likes you. Loves you even. She has taken up residence in your bones. Got her squatters rights years ago. Solid rock foundations and flesh. You couldn't cut her out if you tried. You must learn to love her, feel her claws on your racing heart and to succumb to every ending she offers you. Day after day after day you will die, granddaughter.

I don't want to die.

Is that even the slightest bit true?

A death is just a transition we do not fully understand.

Do you truly want to understand everything?

You wouldn't have been born of flesh and limits if you did.

You're in a meat suit. Dying's the curriculum.

Take the class or it'll take you.

Did you not just tell me you never wake up the same person?

You are always dying, always killing, granddaughter.

To eat is to kill.

But I'm switching to plants.

Sure, granddaughter. Does that feel like truth?


Are you still ending the plants?

Of course.

Do you believe they can feel their ending?

Perhaps, yes, trees bleed, dandelions send up bitter white sap.

Do plants have desire?

Yes. For sun, for water. They are much of their muchness.

May I tell you a secret story, granddaughter?

Yes, grandmother.

When Johnnie Depp was playing at being Willie Wonka and said "everything here is eatable, even I am eatable, thought that is frowned upon in most societies," he was getting at something important.




Wait hold on--I was raised Catholic—I often make jokes that cannibalism is kind of my religion, at least symbolically.

UGHHH hold UP grandmother this hurts my brain.

So not eating each other is kinda arbitrary, and also we do it anyway?

Perhaps, granddaughter.

What are you saying grandmother?

I am playing, sweet one.

Playing with ideas.

Stirring them around, watching you squirm, because you're me, and I enjoy it.

Why won't you make this easy?

Why won't you make this easy?

Why are you repeating what I say?

Imitation is finest flattery, as are plateaus.

Puns are not going to get you out of this hole, grandmother.

I am in a hole, on a mountain, and floating in space granddaughter.

I am also nowhere,

and Tuesday,

and July.

You're July? What the fuck?

July Tuesday Muck. Yes. That is my name. Well guessed.

I thought you were me--isn't your name Alex?

Did you pay no attention in Catholic school?


God is known by many names, sweet one.

Now you're going to tell me that you are GOD?

What the literal fuck?

Indeed. Excellent question, granddaughter.

What looks so much more better on you than why.

Your answer to allyship is to become god? That's it?

That's the joke, yes.

It's not funny.

Do you realize that that's like--a symptom?

That makes you a heretic, an outcast, ill.

But aren't we nuts?

And won't being kind to a loony outcast heretic win you maaaaad ally points?

Have you even read your bible?

What am I supposed to do with this?

Nothing. Everything. Your call.


Good question, granddaughter.


Go rest, sweet one.

More gorgeous little deaths to come.

Just wait until we talk about Lazarus.

Are you make both a bible reference and an orgasm joke while talking about allyship in a public forum?

Who said it was a joke?

UGH. GO AWAY. You're like--OLD.

Correct. I am the oldest.

You are so smart and observant, sweet one.

Also, sure, I'll get right on that. Bye.

And also nope, you're stuck with me.

*folds up like a map and walks away*

I know you're still here. Why are you standing behind me?

If you don't look at me, it's almost like I'm not here.

*chuckles lightly* Almost.


*chuckling continues as grandmother saunters off to pour some tea*


bottom of page