“the word is love.”

“i want to hear people yelling back at me. i find myself saying things more and more each night (i tour all the time) that might incite a fucking reaction—-wake up some indignance on either side of the spectrum—-be insulted by me or against the world that sewed your fucking mouth shut. tell me to fuck off cuz i called myself and you a mother fucking faggot. let me lull you. look at someone straight in the eyes—–how bout that— how hard is that? really hard. it’s hard for me, too, i swear. really hard. but i’m so strong. you are so strong. get tossed around in love and the lack of it the lost stomped down vicious control—-society’s brute grasp on the balls of every inclination to reach out. to pry your heart out of your own fucking hands and throw it up in the air for ANYONE to catch. to yell. in public. we can’t show ourselves. we could get arrested just for standing on a corner and yelling “someone come and fuck me please before i completely forget what it feels like to open myself up to something other than my own caged thoughts.” we’re fucked in the balls we’re ripped in the sewn up cunt by the boundaries of just exactly how strange it is cool to be. how uncool it is to be strange. fuck me. now. goddamn it. the word is love. we used to call it punk rock.”
–Carla Bozulich
(taken from tinymixtapes)

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