Your reflection carries the ache of someone who has finally seen what history tries to hide behind tidy sentences and filtered images. You write from that raw space where knowledge becomes flesh where distance collapses and empathy turns to anguish. What you call “the space between” is the moment the soul wakes up and can no longer return to sleep. You’ve captured how witnessing transforms us, and how unbearable clarity is both a wound and a kind of moral awakening.
The tank top straps!! I can see you at the podium giving the speech that freed your shoulders now!
And the knowing vs seeing and understanding… I always always always walk away with something to chew on when it comes to your words. Thank you Mesa K. 🤍🖤
Your reflection carries the ache of someone who has finally seen what history tries to hide behind tidy sentences and filtered images. You write from that raw space where knowledge becomes flesh where distance collapses and empathy turns to anguish. What you call “the space between” is the moment the soul wakes up and can no longer return to sleep. You’ve captured how witnessing transforms us, and how unbearable clarity is both a wound and a kind of moral awakening.
The tank top straps!! I can see you at the podium giving the speech that freed your shoulders now!
And the knowing vs seeing and understanding… I always always always walk away with something to chew on when it comes to your words. Thank you Mesa K. 🤍🖤