I am a bit of a canary.
Like when you go to the therapist, and you tell her for the life of you, you cannot understand how everyone is acting so cool when we are literally being poisoned to death and you basically have no choice but to poison your children, and how other children are being tortured and starved and nobody is doing anything and your vagus nerve is flashing overdrive and on the verge of crapping out from all the stress. And she says, “Oh Dear. It sounds like you are one of the canaries, a delicate little bird. You know, the ones in the coal mines to warn the diggers of dangers? You are just like that because you are… sensitive. And you say, “Oh yes, I am ‘way too sensitive’ for this world. This is something I have always been told.”
Well, it’s kinda like that, except I am much worse than sensitive. Everything is too loud, too bright, too cold, too itchy, too scratchy, too complicated, too expensive and…
Way too cruel.
Like when I hear from an innocent man on tictok who had rocks thrown at this head because his skin is one shade too dark, my mouth stops beating and I choke on my heart. It feels like I am living in an insane asylum, where everyone has lost their minds.
We canaries pump the pain of it all, and all the pain of our ancestors in our blood. So it’s no wonder we are the addicts. We must fight the good fight.
I guess this is me fighting with sobriety, art, love and words.
All the hate makes me want to crawl back into the coal mines and not warn for gas leaks and cry myself to sleep. So I turn on a little ditty. The rhythm pours into me like sweet sticky honey and time stands still. It’s another canary singing my every atom alive and I am magnificently complete.
Or a hummingbird visits my feeder and I hold my breath to absorb the innocence of such a flutter.
Being a canary is living in extremes.
I think… Well, if the world crumbles due to such irreverence and cruelty, wouldn’t I rather be a sensitive one?
Our uniqueness is our power. But we need to feel it, so I live sober and free and ride the beauty and pain like waves. I use my sensitivity as a gift and I focus only on the love.
But in order to get to the love you have to go through all the pain and it’s this whole big thing.
That’s basically my shtick.
~ Tara Palov