Dear Cakalak Thunder,
You have been the love of my life. You have made me who I am today. And I will miss you forever.
I wasn’t young when I found you. I was old enough to know what I wanted, and confident enough to fight for it. For 15 years we pushed and shaped each other with courage and fiery love. You always brought out the best in me, and I never settled for anything less from you.
Much of it is a blur now. Miles slogged, fingers taped and bloody, palms bruised; police lines and picket lines, and so much dancing in the streets. I remember my eyes were closed much of the time we were alone. Lost in the way we could lift each other. That full body ecstasy, transporting synchronicity, effortless and expanding, open to every possibility, living it all into existence, wrapped in relentless rhythm and rage and rebellion and god damn you could move me! You taught me how to lead by listening. Wood in my hand. Metal in my mouth.
And now I have to let you go. You and yer gorgeous, fucked up, glistening and gloriously imperfect anarchist ass. I have to figure out who I am without you in my life. Even though I know yer calls will crackle in my blood till my heart stops beating.
We made cities shake. We made tyrants tremble. We made small voices carry. We made tired legs leap.
I respect you so deeply. I am in awe of the ways you grew, and stretched, and shifted, while always staying true to yer center. You taught me that longevity requires agility. And humility. And humor. A strong sense of self and an unbreakable commitment to community.
Thanks to you I know what it feels like to hold and be held, wholly, and unbound.
It will prolly take me a long time to move on. But I know what you expect of me, and I promise I wont let you down.
With big booming fucking love always,