this is exactly the type of piece that i have to sit on before swallowing anything else, the type that will only ripen and get more beautiful in time. i never comment but this is a great piece i'll be reflecting on for awhile
Love! You’re a fantastic writer from what I can tell here. Side note: in Kiswahili “beware of dog” translates to MBWA KALI and has been my dad’s email address since email was invented.
i am so grateful for the person who screenshotted the jarring title of this article—prompting me to read it. of course not as grateful as i am for you for writing it. i knew it would be an exceedingly thought-provoking piece. the cockroach metaphor and social commentary mixed in with personal grievances makes this piece so compelling. survival, exploitation, romanticization. local narratives always seem to be uninteresting and drowned out by outsiders—when your life is so rooted in a place yet you still have to fight for your experiences to be digested upon your own terms it must feel so disheartening. and the system—the machine—is so complex, so difficult to escape. you’ve written such a layered piece here! i love u, never read a confessional piece as dense as this seems to be. incredible. never stop writing <3
mahalo nui for sticking around past the scary title! so true, btw. about it being about the “local” as well— even i aim for an escape from home, to new york specifically (another romanticized place where identities of the marginalized are exploited). it’s why i am in a part of my life where i strive to create local community, understand importance of being a guest, know exactly who i am where i come from and what i can and should bring. not perfect obv but it’s the goal. i think these practices then translate into work that we create, not merely as an extension/selling point of the work through identity but as the substance that drives it.
A pleasure to read and much food for thought. I’ve been a fan girl/critic of Gabi for a while and I feel you articulated that juxtaposition well here, something I’ve always struggled with. Thank you for this piece! It’s given me much to think about.
as someone that has only dipped their toe into contemporary confessional literature ( my reintroduction being dimes square informed lit…that i promptly put down) this really resonated with the part of myself that found the more viral confessional pieces lacking or unsatisfactory. the work of yourself and the peers you’ve named make me feel excited to gorge myself with so many new and substantive voices :)
mahalo for reading. i truly get fatigued as well, especially with the dance all of us do around each other. critique feels awkward to pose in this world, as it seems like endorsement is as empty as the critique itself at this point. but yeah, its a tenuous thing to wrestle with as a consumer and as a writer and as a pseudo-peer/sharer of the same space. to see what i feel is a door to the right proliferate, that is. i think this unsatisfactory nature of this doesn't come from the diaristic quality of the art itself, but the lack of context or reasoning for the observation, personally. i am obsessed with kapu (nainoa rosehill)'s artwork as linked at the bottom of the piece because of its rooted-ness. i also like mackenzie's work because she rides the line of self-voyerurism with tact. there is always a personal heaven, a lineage to her decision making that doesn't always *need* to be something deeper persay, but ALWAYS has its place. it knows what and who it is. she knows too. anyway. all good converations. long thoughts over.
mahalo for sharing :) i’ve been hard pressed to find anyone searching for sincerity that isn’t also tired of everything being post-modern in an empty way. the people are starved!!! i’d love to hear more about what you mean when you speak of a door to the right proliferate. but i’ve been so obsessed with source (the ancestor, previous realities and experiences, practices etc) as a frontline defense against facism and what it produces across culture. everything feels unrooted, new, and strange in terms of how things are presented in the news cycle or the mainstream, and the best way for me to ground lately has been to look within all types of epistemic archives and track where these things are coming from/have existed in some form before, and how they were occurrences that became signs in hindsight. so reading your response and your piece and their emphasis’ on rooted-ness (and what i interpreted to be a grounding and honoring of what has already existed to shape + translate thought) is beyond affirming. my favorite confessional pieces contend with this, so thank you for helping me name what it is i’m looking for. <3
ooooh maybe this could be another essay but i also think rootedness and ancestor is the sole source of fighting fascism. we are totally on the same wave— i think what im referring to when i say “right proliferate” is this empty spirituality that 1) hinges on inner exploration/lack of guidance/a dissociation from birthright. i think people find truths everywhere, especially in hawaii, but their willingness to label this as gaining universal truth when a lot of this is not manifestation, it is just privilege and negating one’s own context (all of us being mixed people ourselves) in exchange for the flattened, endorsed identity really provides a foil to the tokenized identity in modern publishing. neither are good. + 2) the pipeline it then creates toward the right. unfortunately it’s another flavor that they are allergic to confronting and anyone who points it out is labelled “other” or the “woke mob”. confessional writing can be an incredible tool and answer to the identity problem, but readers will have to align and contend with the mindset you and i are trying to come from in my opinion. btw you are deeply intelligent.
this is a breath of fresh air really…it’s so so telling that ancestral veneration (and i truly believe acknowledging and exploring the root, whether it takes the form of a person themselves or just the existence and fullness of those before us) has come to both of us as a solution/salve to fascism, and i feel like that in itself speaks to its power as an antithesis of this moment in time where everything is fleeting and nothing is ‘supposed to’ mean anything. would it be so terrible to deep everything in this literary space….especially when we bring ourselves and our histories and our understandings of reality wherever we are? especially when we read these confessional pieces in our own voice, we shouldn’t be able to transpose ourselves into the author’s reality, but instead accept the invitation to share a headspace, imo. like you said, ignoring our context is flattening, and past universalizing our very unique experiences, it makes out identities ripe for endorsement as ‘one of the good ones’. and your point about confessional writing as an incredible tool and answer to the identity problem is so on point! i feel like it directly clashes with identity politics, as the confessional writing we agree is/feels satiating repositions us as individuals that are part of a whole rather than a piece of the whole by itself, i feel. so much to say and think about, but i’m absolutely looking forward to engaging more with your art. also thank you so much, i think it goes without saying that i think the same of you!
this is exactly the type of piece that i have to sit on before swallowing anything else, the type that will only ripen and get more beautiful in time. i never comment but this is a great piece i'll be reflecting on for awhile
i hope to continue making you full
Love! You’re a fantastic writer from what I can tell here. Side note: in Kiswahili “beware of dog” translates to MBWA KALI and has been my dad’s email address since email was invented.
wish i could pin a comment because this made my day. beware of dog— the uniting force of all ethnic dads everywhere
i am so grateful for the person who screenshotted the jarring title of this article—prompting me to read it. of course not as grateful as i am for you for writing it. i knew it would be an exceedingly thought-provoking piece. the cockroach metaphor and social commentary mixed in with personal grievances makes this piece so compelling. survival, exploitation, romanticization. local narratives always seem to be uninteresting and drowned out by outsiders—when your life is so rooted in a place yet you still have to fight for your experiences to be digested upon your own terms it must feel so disheartening. and the system—the machine—is so complex, so difficult to escape. you’ve written such a layered piece here! i love u, never read a confessional piece as dense as this seems to be. incredible. never stop writing <3
mahalo nui for sticking around past the scary title! so true, btw. about it being about the “local” as well— even i aim for an escape from home, to new york specifically (another romanticized place where identities of the marginalized are exploited). it’s why i am in a part of my life where i strive to create local community, understand importance of being a guest, know exactly who i am where i come from and what i can and should bring. not perfect obv but it’s the goal. i think these practices then translate into work that we create, not merely as an extension/selling point of the work through identity but as the substance that drives it.
you’re amazing 🙏🙏🙏
A pleasure to read and much food for thought. I’ve been a fan girl/critic of Gabi for a while and I feel you articulated that juxtaposition well here, something I’ve always struggled with. Thank you for this piece! It’s given me much to think about.
mahalo for your thoughts and also for reading!
incredible.
thank you for reading 💕
Woke Hater (superlative)
Endless amounts of talent omfg
oh aw thank u
God this was so good! I feel like I wanna read it twice just to relive the imagery. I am so happy you wrote this and that I got to read it.
💕🫡
Thought provoking and resonate. A pleasure to read.
your honesty & vulnerability is so refreshing & appreciated. you write about things nobody else does & that's such a gift. thank you for sharing!
as someone that has only dipped their toe into contemporary confessional literature ( my reintroduction being dimes square informed lit…that i promptly put down) this really resonated with the part of myself that found the more viral confessional pieces lacking or unsatisfactory. the work of yourself and the peers you’ve named make me feel excited to gorge myself with so many new and substantive voices :)
mahalo for reading. i truly get fatigued as well, especially with the dance all of us do around each other. critique feels awkward to pose in this world, as it seems like endorsement is as empty as the critique itself at this point. but yeah, its a tenuous thing to wrestle with as a consumer and as a writer and as a pseudo-peer/sharer of the same space. to see what i feel is a door to the right proliferate, that is. i think this unsatisfactory nature of this doesn't come from the diaristic quality of the art itself, but the lack of context or reasoning for the observation, personally. i am obsessed with kapu (nainoa rosehill)'s artwork as linked at the bottom of the piece because of its rooted-ness. i also like mackenzie's work because she rides the line of self-voyerurism with tact. there is always a personal heaven, a lineage to her decision making that doesn't always *need* to be something deeper persay, but ALWAYS has its place. it knows what and who it is. she knows too. anyway. all good converations. long thoughts over.
mahalo for sharing :) i’ve been hard pressed to find anyone searching for sincerity that isn’t also tired of everything being post-modern in an empty way. the people are starved!!! i’d love to hear more about what you mean when you speak of a door to the right proliferate. but i’ve been so obsessed with source (the ancestor, previous realities and experiences, practices etc) as a frontline defense against facism and what it produces across culture. everything feels unrooted, new, and strange in terms of how things are presented in the news cycle or the mainstream, and the best way for me to ground lately has been to look within all types of epistemic archives and track where these things are coming from/have existed in some form before, and how they were occurrences that became signs in hindsight. so reading your response and your piece and their emphasis’ on rooted-ness (and what i interpreted to be a grounding and honoring of what has already existed to shape + translate thought) is beyond affirming. my favorite confessional pieces contend with this, so thank you for helping me name what it is i’m looking for. <3
ooooh maybe this could be another essay but i also think rootedness and ancestor is the sole source of fighting fascism. we are totally on the same wave— i think what im referring to when i say “right proliferate” is this empty spirituality that 1) hinges on inner exploration/lack of guidance/a dissociation from birthright. i think people find truths everywhere, especially in hawaii, but their willingness to label this as gaining universal truth when a lot of this is not manifestation, it is just privilege and negating one’s own context (all of us being mixed people ourselves) in exchange for the flattened, endorsed identity really provides a foil to the tokenized identity in modern publishing. neither are good. + 2) the pipeline it then creates toward the right. unfortunately it’s another flavor that they are allergic to confronting and anyone who points it out is labelled “other” or the “woke mob”. confessional writing can be an incredible tool and answer to the identity problem, but readers will have to align and contend with the mindset you and i are trying to come from in my opinion. btw you are deeply intelligent.
this is a breath of fresh air really…it’s so so telling that ancestral veneration (and i truly believe acknowledging and exploring the root, whether it takes the form of a person themselves or just the existence and fullness of those before us) has come to both of us as a solution/salve to fascism, and i feel like that in itself speaks to its power as an antithesis of this moment in time where everything is fleeting and nothing is ‘supposed to’ mean anything. would it be so terrible to deep everything in this literary space….especially when we bring ourselves and our histories and our understandings of reality wherever we are? especially when we read these confessional pieces in our own voice, we shouldn’t be able to transpose ourselves into the author’s reality, but instead accept the invitation to share a headspace, imo. like you said, ignoring our context is flattening, and past universalizing our very unique experiences, it makes out identities ripe for endorsement as ‘one of the good ones’. and your point about confessional writing as an incredible tool and answer to the identity problem is so on point! i feel like it directly clashes with identity politics, as the confessional writing we agree is/feels satiating repositions us as individuals that are part of a whole rather than a piece of the whole by itself, i feel. so much to say and think about, but i’m absolutely looking forward to engaging more with your art. also thank you so much, i think it goes without saying that i think the same of you!
Holy fuck
are we okay?!
Never, but also always?
your writing is insane omg!
Girl, the prose is hot 🔥
So fucking good!!!! ❤️
so so brilliant
💕💕💕