I wrote this for my Dad, and for me, a couple of years ago. I feel I can republish it here, today, because over the past two weeks I have unfriended and blocked the half dozen or so people I had become afraid to share anything of myself with, afraid of their judgement of everything […]
Month: April 2022
A tight-lipped, shudder of cultural inconvenience
ANZAC Day 2022 I spent much of ANZAC Day trying to find something to commemorate among the countless lives sacrificed to the gods of money, nationalism, and ego. The ANZAC Days of my childhood were not the jingoistic memorialising of tidied up carnage that they are today, the knowing was still too raw and real. […]
dykiegirl 