3. Weary…

I keep running away whenever the topic of treatment pops up. I’ve had to switch doctors each time. Loved ones want me medicated; but everybody who is medicated keeps telling me they don’t feel any better.

Maybe there are pills that can make me happy and well adjusted. I just wish those pills could also make it easier for me to be:

Black in an anti-black world

Queer in a hetero-normative world

less disappointed at post-Apartheid SA’s broken promises

Working class under neoliberal late-capitalism

and so on and so forth.