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Voicing displeasure #3 The Code of Visibility

The visible code is always the hidden one. All girls of the world, voice up!

I believe that invisibility for Him made me urge the visibility everywhere else. I must be loud. I must be seen. Spreading the presence wherever I can, proving my existence while being unrepeatable, unique, ubiquitous. You made me visible by hiding me. But watch out, I do have this voice.

The night felt long and exhausting. After I woke up this morning, there was a spit of trauma on my pillow. It is like many others very blurry, but while writing it I sharpen and sculpt it.

I am a parasite, poster poem
©Nadja Kracunovic

WALLS, DRINKS, CODES, AND SCREAMS

The bar was divided by many walls and halls as if it is an apartment adapted to a so-called place for celebrations. It felt as if the whole family and family from a family were standing in that celebration room. The blurry-faced shapes of human bodies, that presented my close friends were behind the celebration wall, with me, drinking vodka in a very hesitated, thirsty manner. In reality, I never drink vodka, but there I am – as drunk as Cooter Brown, celebrating. I can very well recognize the sound of Him through the walls – drunk as well, heavy smoker’s tone, intense and boisterous voice.

The agony entered the celebration room immediately after I did. Greeting the family (probably mine) and kissing the cheeks of the men that I have never seen before. The sweaty, muscular bodies are welcoming and celebrating my arrival – me being there after so long. At that very moment, I recognized just the figure of my little half-brother that I see for the second time. And then, He appeared. To be more precise in the description of this sibling relationship, the only thing we share is exactly Him. Approaching me confidently, bringing by each step this before-the-storm feeling. I trembled the celebration out of my skin. The scream was there coming from His mouth, manifesting years of anger – outrage irritated by my existence. Why is He furious? Shouting and breaking the glasses in front of my fragile, never-used-to-be-screamed-at body. I was the most visible and invisible person in the room. After more than 15 years of absence, He appears and yells all his masculinity at the female offspring. I could not hear the words, it was too loud to understand them. Fifteen years transformed into a simple spillage of anger. That might be the scream of becoming a father for the first time. At least to me.

All the girls in the world, unite. My code is being loud, being visible. My code is being patient and listening. My code is never ever in my life abandoning you, whoever you will be. My code is being strong like She is. The code of mine is taking care of the children, all the children of the world. My code has a voice must use it.

Nadja’s father (Serbian: Nadjin tata), the handmade doll
©Nadja Kracunovic

But, who wants to pass through me, must pass through my room. I yelled back. I screamed my face off, turning purple and spitting the sentences in His face while saying the words I can not understand. I am not a small girl to be shouted at – I am this deep voice that grew up from a child you never wanted.

After one drink
I turn pink
I scream for Him
My body blinks.

To get it all out,
I need some weeks
Increasing my voice
To fight the beast.

After just one drink
I scream to protect
I turn pink
And there comes my act.

I am a parasite,
I am the stain
I exist so much
that He can not obtain.

Voice up the visibility. Pierce the authority.

By Nadja Kracunovic

N.K. (b.1996) is a visual artist from Serbia, based in Germany.

Expressing her humanity and imagination as well as her humor, Kracunovic uses different mediums to create site and context-specific works, with mixed-media being the most prominent in her work. Through art, she has been dealing with the consumption of one’s intimacy, sexuality, and private body.

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