Tracy Chapman seemed to always be playing in the begining. In hindsight, it always seemed the most innocent and truthful love. The kind where both of you forget about everything else. But I wonder now actually how much more to the truth the tracy chapman album was hinting at.
Yesterday evening, I went to watch 12 years a slave. And commented about it on facebook. A friend suggested that I watch Roots. That really got under her skin. I ûnderstand what she was getting at. But that's not my aim. My aim, or hope is to.. was to.. hope that stronger voices can talk about it, and bring it to light. Bring it to justice. On the one hand its recognition and honoring those who suffered at the hands of the slave trade.
I'm talking about the topic as an abstract thought, when the aim was to be personal. I suppose it depends on life as to how you deal with it. My grandad never allowed tomato ketchup bottles on the table because it reminded him of blood.
When tracy chapman was singing in the background, and I was lying in lovers arms. Stories finally unfolded in trust. And fingers that thought they were tracing over birthmarks, realised truth in bulletmarks.
When I watch a movie with friends. I can't watch torture scenes. It takes me back to a time when a lovers soul was raped. And its a physical feeling, with an emotional hangover.
In the past though, it was much worse. The only way I can describe it is ripping velcro, right down my chest. And its paralysing. I wrote a piece once to process it, and had to go to bed for the wole afternoon. Which doesn't please my practical side, how can you concentrate on being productive when you have to nurse to your own mental health?
From that summer I decided not to concentrate on it, to let it lie. But you can't control life, or indeed movie scripts. So from time to time it arises again. And at those times when I have to pull out the strength card, I appreciate those who stand for justice even more.