Fill in the blanks/Pune cuvintele tale

trans movement

Playtime exercise

Fill in the words…. and the affects. Imagine another narrator and yourself as a narrator in the same time, inhabit another body. Use our texts for that, fill in the words, and if you want, post your comments on the blog, with your completed exercises, so they will be added to the ongoing story…/

Completează cuvintele…și afectele. Imaginează o altă naratoare, și în acelasi timp pe tine ca naratoare: fă un exercițiu de locuire efemeră în alt corp. Folosește pentru asta textele noastre, și, dacă vrei, posteaza pe blog comentarii cu exercițiile completate, se vor adăuga astfel poveștii în continuă mișcare…




How can you ______________ something you are not really sure what it is? When there are so little ____________ and just a few people talk about things that are similar to what you feel. You don’t know about them yet, even if they know about you and others like you. They struggle to ___________. Their echoes: you don’t need to have a name for being who you are, in order to ___________. If there is really a need for a term, you can always ____________ it. We are the ones changing  language, not the few people recording bits of this process in their mighty dictionaries. Only the things that count for them, only the ___________ that ascribe to their own ___________________________.


The generic “I” figured out that really likes the generic “you”. What now? What would be a name for this? Fondness? Love? And what about the names of you and me? Are you a ________________, a ________________? Am I a _____________________? A _______________, _________________? Think about these names in your primary language.

How do people that hate us call us? Should we turn around their words, reappropiating them, in an ironic process by which the ________________ turns desirable?

Inventing names for different identities might be fun, using more than one way to look at certain things —  ____________________.

A continuous discovery of each other’s _________________ and preferences.


Imagine a rather rude encounter with some authorities. They ask: “Who are you?… What are you?”. “_______________”, comes the response in English. “Say it in your mother tongue!” they aggressively demand, as if your ID or that person’s ID is what defines your place, their place, a whole way of thinking. ‘Cause what else language and our choice on which words to use are but a ______________________________?

“I am <the little girl> whose existence was put into words by _______________. Many of these words are not mine. Maybe I see _____________ as nothing similar to a “__________”, nor “______________”.





________ am


Showers of negative energy. Some seeds of quiet. And then over again. The last few days i’ve been reflecting at an old fragment of expression supposedly from the classical antiquity medical oath: “Primum non nocere”(First of all, do no harm)…Of course, expression and intention taken from ethics and instrumented by all the possible ethics…If you cannot do good, you could before anything else not do harm.

I kinda feel like _________________, in the middle of my insomnia. How constantly I harm…Without any conviction, despite my ___________________ background, that certain infinitesimal effects of the harm produced can be erased by holy water. Hurting by lack of attention, by sufficiency, by _____________, harm from good and from bad to worse. Harming by not getting up to get out of the room at any racist commentary in the call-center (although i would be perpetually exiting, like ___________________). Harming by not having had the courage, after swearing it to myself, to plant them ____________ flags on each office desk before Pride. Doing bad by not completing my obligations and not delivering on all my promises. Doing bad by ____________ harshly and with the disgusting ego of education privilege.

It’s bad that i harm _______.

And i have been and i will again.

Primum non nocere leads in all the above situations to the opposing effect. If telling the people from the glass tower they are racist and homophobe means harming them, then it’s a bad that i _______________________.

If obligations and promises, then i would rather _________________…


i’ll stop my generic insomniac self-confession, as it made me drowsy, fortunately. It doesn’t really work to Primum non Nocere. I live rather, or trying to live, a perpetual ________________ of the bad I produce and the good that should be produced to partake to a sort of spiralling balance…

only, it’s just…besides random chance circumstances, i never can take back from a person the exact harm I have produced onto them. No ______________ helps. Every subsequent wrapping in sterile bandages and hydrophilic cotton and any _________________ towards others, separated from the initial harm, mutely and continuously reverberates it.

I have words to do you good and _________ for all the rest. My name is Compromise, Embodiment.

For any good doing, I need to instrument myself. And by ___________________ i am harm and good melting together faintly like atom clusters, interchangeable, forming unsymmetrical multiplicities.

I wish to never in my life have written a text about __________________.

And be like the window of Ajanta houses, drawn so as to go around bodies without placing them in the finite field of possibilities of every other perspective representation.

if i were like that i would only do you good, interfering less than an echo onto _________________.

Instead i am all the ethical vectors within me and from my past and from the past and present of _________________, of my mother, of the racist conversation i just tried to not hear.

Depth, vertical, horizontal.

I pin you to my perspective plan.

_________________ me.


Posted August 13, 2014 by poetrybody

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