ep.11 z.ink.ED (archive)

hi luv!

this episode is a dive into the archives. the first episode of my first podcast, z.ink.ED! enjoy.

episode produced by me! 

beat by Kev 

any claims made in this season are for entertainment purposes only. 

Transcript

SPEAKER_02 0:07

Hey y'all. So we're doing something a little different in this episode. I wanted to go into the archives and share with you the first episode of my first podcast called Zinc from 2018. And you'll get to learn more about it, but it was so fun, and I feel like, yeah, you're gonna hear episodes from the archives as we go along, so enjoy.

SPEAKER_01 1:21

And um, I'm here today to share with you a chapter of my love story. And it'll drop every Tuesday or every other Tuesday, morning or night, depending on life. And uh, if you like my style, keep listening, my friend. Because this podcast is called Zynced, and I'll explain why in just a minute. But first, let me introduce myself in the style of this season, which isn't linear, but builds a rhythm. This is a story-based podcast with book readings, random original poems and rap songs, or whatever. But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name's Z, and I use all pronouns. He, she, they, whatever. I mean, gender's just not my thing, and whether you're queer or not, I hope you're comfortable without boxes, because being labeled and boxed into boxes just ain't my thing either. Hopefully we can relate, and if so, keep on listening. If not, well, I'd skip off these sound waves right now. Because it's story time, y'all. You ready? Suddenly, you've transported from wherever you are in the world and into my memory, and you land like a ghost right beside me. The unseen. I've just left work and I'm uncomfortable, adjusting my footing, feeling something. Not exactly aware that it's you the unseen. My curly hair presses against my sweaty cheeks, and the air is hot and humid, even with the stars blanketing the sky. I stand in line at the box office of a theater called the Western US Society, the land beneath my feet once claimed by the Mohican people and whoever else before them, you know. I finally reach the box office clerk and trade cash for a survey, checking off each box so I could receive my ticket to try out for the play called Your Life. As I nervously chuckle, wondering if I'll get lucky enough to land a roll. Your ghost reaches for my hand, and a chill races up my arm, and my heart starts to beat fast. I feel you there. I sigh. Calm down, Key, you're fine. Just breathe. Biting my lip, I roll the pen between my fingers. Race. Black and white. Check. Check. Economic class. Working. Check. Gender. Female. Pause. Pause. Check. With each inked mark, I struggle to breathe, knowing each box boxes out my story of being the child of his story, as if everybody in my story is his. A performance my ancestors must have watched with mounting fury, screaming and arguing over the limitations of each role, scripted word and prop available to my body. For you see, dear unseen, my ancestors, like you, are all characters I imagine, whose roles are as ancient as the spirit of creation, when the gods birthed the elements of fire, water, earth and air, and as recent as plants and mammals, pharaohs and peasants, queens and kings, warriors and shepherds, male and female, mother and father. We imagine to feel our breath, to look outside our box and our roll. Finally, finished, I step back and hand the survey to the clerk, nodding, pocketing my ticket, shouldering my bag, and walking away from you through a boxed door frame and into the dark. But before I enter I look back with a shudder. I hesitate and slowly raise my hand. My eyes grow distant and I wave. Right then, we see each other, if only for a moment. Then I turn on my heels and take my place in the thread. In line in my own time. Dear unseen, listener and friend, I'm ready to start a podcast centered on love, and it's not just any type of love, not just any type of romantic relationship either, but the type where I fall in love with my past, present, and future self and learn to invest time in all three. By reflecting on my memories and exploring how they show up in the present to create space for my future. Like a polyamorous relationship with my cells, all characters in this theater of a society where my body takes a lead role in every act. So welcome. This is my present self, your host, Z. And my past self, well, their name is Key, and they unlocked all the doors that made me a wee. And my future self, the artist and the unboxed, the free, is called Zinc, Zinc, Zinc, Zinc, Zink, Zinc, Zinc. Like the metal, like the mineral. This is how our brain conceptualizes our stage and our life. And today my name is Z and I'm your host, and that's my role for tonight. And I'm here from the Z generation, and I'm writing this all out with ink. My story. And all the naked vulnerability that sparks the type of love I search for in every stranger, and all the guarded armor of a mammal in fear of my own mortality. I share my journey, in the hopes that you see yourself in us, but not as us, like the actors in a play or a movie. But I ask for you to stand with me, not to simply watch and witness, but to cheer and cry, to applaud, to challenge and leave the theater when I need rest for the night, to revel, to breathe in the absurdity of this time and how complex loving this shit is. To love the wholeness of existing as you are right now. 'Cause isn't this shit wild? Personally, I fear loving myself and other bodies of life so deeply I separate to protect my heart. I truly believe we hold ancient wounds, my friends, and I've heard this in stories and whispers, in gossip and pictures, and how a rabbit crisscrosses the earth as a hawk dies from the skies. I fear in how we desperately wish to consume each other and feel full, feel whole again. And for me, for Z, this podcast is a space to grieve what I've known and celebrate the unknown, to share in random acts of love, of helping an elder cross the street, to listening to our heartbeat as the forest of leaves cheer and hush around us, and giving ourselves to love and how all of us know love so uniquely, so differently, so similarly. The absurdity of love is so deep. I just gotta build a space where I can breathe. And so, yeah. Will you share this time with me? Throughout this podcast, I will refer to queer ecology, regenerative design, and social permaculture. And yes, I'll explain what these terms mean as time unfolds. As a story, as a storyteller, as a play, as a player, as an act, as an actor, as characters and mirrors of intricate roles where love and shame meet jealousy and greed to mature as collaboration and release. Where we love so deep we reach out and also know when to let go of all the different characters and roles that cross our stage, that live and die. Together, we can build language that creates a body of art where the audience and the actors are not separated by a screen or sound waves or a stage, but united by the power of belief, by emotion and by our bodies in this body of time that we all share, where we recreate our roles and regenerate our time right now. Maybe it's by design that we're here and it's written by the divine who is, from what I've gathered, love. So let's read the signs, and maybe together you and I can write out our story, not his story or her story, but our story, where the land under our feet is our stage, where our ancestors all play a role and how we act and how we know ourselves and our body, as our more than human sibling ancestors and friends nibble at the pages, squeakin' and mewin' and meowin' and barkin', as we, the Z generation, pick up a pen to write, to ink, our story in time, and maybe even discover our stories, experiences, and dreams create the type of education we've all been searching for, one that is outside of the classroom, outside of the box. That is why this podcast is called Z dot in K dot Capital E D Zinked, where the Z generation inks out our education together. With you, I release shame. With you, I release fear. Welcome to Zinked. Join me, your host Z, as I share my love story. I do not speak for my entire generation. I am a mirror. I reflect only what I know now, what I continue to learn from my past, and what I dream to be in my future. For I, Z, do not know all that my body, myself, know. I speak as a flame, a shadow and a wave of our generation. So if I may be so lucky, can I land a role in your life?

unknown 11:24

Think.

SPEAKER_01 11:25

Hope to share more stories next week. Stay blessed, y'all. Think. Where the Z generation inks out our education together. Ain't that kind of funny?

SPEAKER_02 12:09

Oh my lord. Oh my create test. Oh my god, I cannot believe I be hearing myself Z and I just like girl, you freaky ass bitch, and I love you. Polly, what? Yo, I'm Zink so high. Yo, we out here. We out here. I'm with it though. You know, I love on Z and listening to their story, and there's more episodes to come throughout next season, y'all. Uh, but just a little taste, a little taste. I got I got layers, and I'm excited to share. Yeah, subscribe, follow, share with a friend. Um I know I'm a particular taste, okay, but hopefully y'all resonate and yeah, much love. Till next time.