<table><tr><td> Today was the first day where it actually felt like the rainy season I've grown to know over the past five years. Today was also the day that the third grand jury resister, Leah Lynn-Plante was taken into federal custody. Most of the time when thinking of this situation words fail me. I can speak at length about the things that are physical happening, who had their contempt hearing, who was taken into custody, these are all pieces of information that are easy enough to pass on. They are facts, they are static, they are a person being transported from point A to point B. But broken hearts are not static, and being ripped from your life, your friends and loved ones is something that words can rarely describe. For some, they may see a light at the end of the tunnel, this can be wonderful. But for others the overcast skies and ever-looming fog of the northwest render visibility nearly impossible.
In silence, we roar. In solidarity, we attack. But in despair, we cry. We break down because our friends and loved ones have been torn from our lives and because the threat of more being caged is rather imminent. But we also hate, we despise the cops, the judges, the politicians, the journalists. And all of this becomes really complicated. A flurry of emotions comes over us all at once, and in any given moment we sometimes impose contradictions. To feel weak or strong? Emboldened or defeated? Whether we are more inspired by our love or hatred of this world? I don't really think these questions always have answers, but that doesn't make their effect on our lives any less real.</td><td><img title="Commence crying" src="http://anarchistnews.org/files/pictures/2012/kittieyarn.jpg"></td></tr><...
I stood on a balcony today, 26 stories high I watched as the clouds swept in and covered the water. I tried to take it all in, for Kteeo, for Matt, and preemptively for Leah. I know the only difference between our outcomes was as simple as an address change, but I also know that there's no way I can understand whats going on for my three comrades. I thought about how inspiring their acts of resistance are, I thought about the chance that if I was in their situation I wouldn't be going down alone.I would be going down with three other beautiful fighters.
To be honest, I've never really been a fan of per-zines or anything like that, but I think that being so close to this situation has made me want people outside of the northwest to get a small glimpse of the personal aspect of what's occurring around this grand jury investigation. A side where while we appear strong, emboldened, and uncompromising, we also appear as devastated, terrified, and sometimes, alone.
For now, I guess the Grand Jury has already seen all of the people it's served subpoenas to. It's no use in speculating on whether or not there will be more. It's far from over, and we don't know the future holds. But as of yet, despite their attempts the state has failed. It has failed to break our spirits and it has failed to break our bonds. May we rejoice in all the future failures it will have, and may we do our best to avenge it's victories.
Don't stop loving. Don't stop fighting. And fuck it, don't stop crying.
A Fellow Resister.