“PMS”

At some point between IMG_5440Wednesday morning and Friday afternoon, someone has written “PMS” on the corner of the desk I sit at during math and they’ve underlined it. There is not explanation to this declaration. Just PMS.

A couple weeks ago a friend of mine drew on the bathroom wall “free the nipple”. She took a photo of it and sent it to me. In year seven I drew little pictures on the picnic tables. It made me feel like I was cool, that I could do and was willing to do this thing that nobody else was doing. It made me feel brave, and there were no repercussions.

At the beginning of each year I take photos of the sadness scrawled onto the bathroom stalls.

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And I wonder if the people who put these notices here meant for me to see them. I know I didn’t, I wanted to be seen, and that’s why I drew on those tables. It didn’t bother me one way or another whether they were seen when I wasn’t drawing them. I wanted to be noted, it wasn’t about what I drew, it was that it was me who drew it. But maybe that was an outlier; maybe it’s different for everybody else. Maybe it’s not important who wrote “PMS” on the corner of my desk, maybe it’s just a thought that had to be noted.

I think that maybe the people who write clever things, the things that are protest, the people that draw things on purpose, I think that they are meant to be seen. And I think the little emotions, the little emotions people put on walls are meant to be seen. I think it’s all meant to be seen, but also don’t think that there’s a plan for when you do.

Because what can you do?

IMG_2343What do I say to “PMS”? Are you asking me a question? What can I do for you? Do you need help from me? It’s okay, I paid attention in health class, I know how it all works. Do you want me to check this yes, that I have seen this? That I have acknowledged this? Because yes, you are heard. Whatever it is you are trying to say I know you are trying to say it. I am here for you.

But I don’t think you need that from me.

Because it’s not about communication; it’s never been about communication. There is no conversation to be had, there is not meant to be an answer to the “PMS” scrawled into the corner of my desk, there is no response to “Fuck you sir” written on the blind and “School fkn sucks”. They are statements, they are truths, and even if they’re not, it’s hard to argue with a wall.

 

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