just when i get over someone, i find myself on top of someone else.
slow them thumbs down
smelling like whiskey and moving like a criminal that ain't smooth
don't let your wits get drunk with you
or there's no coming back
slow down
we're moving too fast to recognize how slow we're really going
but i like the way your lips move
when they're on top of mine
and i know i'm supposed to be home
but please just let me unwind
right here, right now
let's relax, show me how
i can't get enough of you without giving you all of me
and when it's too good to be true
i know you're a breathing fantasy
right
left
up
down
bounce on it
and hit the town.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
butterflies from caterpillars
i wanna outgrow my spirit like little kids outgrow their school shoes at least until i graduate unto a level that means im an expert in self.
wishful thinking.
we're not going to talk about why he's putting whatever he's putting on that slice of bread with a fork. but we can discuss how i think we might be good together.
tell em why you mad son
ok i love lil wayne. and i don't expect you to know how much i love him because i don't publicize it often. it's like i have a personal relationship with him in my head and it's sacred so i keep it in my head. anyway, let me tell you why i love wayne. cuz he doesn't give a f.ck. he's all about the art whether he has to get really high [cough syrup] or really low [jail]. he's going to say whatever he wants, in whatever order and whether you like it or not, he's putting it in the atmosphere. it's up to you to catch it. i guess i can say the same about kanye, who i'm a big fan of. copped all the albums within the first week, in fact his first album brought me out of my 'i'm not buying another cd until some hip hop lyricism comes out.' i remember the first time i saw him on mtv, i was like 'yeah, he's gonna give me what i need and make it look f.cking amazing.' and i can even say the same thing about eminem. he's been killing his baby mother, since the second album and i remember listening to the album in my room with my headphones on some 'i hope my mama don't catch me' type sh.t she never did. thank you Jesus cuz that white boy says some sh.t. anyway these three rappers hold a little space in my heart, they give me the edge us cute girls need. some guys think it's very weird that i can spit any bars, yet alone wayne, eminem, kanye & let's not forget jay-z, biggie, nas, t.i, the list goes on and actually sound decent watch out nicki but nonetheless i'm just saying. if you're about the art, i'm with you. now the cough syrup? that's your thing playa.
reunited.
don't ask me why i was up or who i was even talking to. the point is two things came out of this late night/early morning excursion. and one of them was this.
there was a boy and a girl. he used to pull her pigtails and trip her in the schoolyard. one day she finally punched him and they didn't speak for eight long years. he got married and divorced. she got a car and crashed it. they led separate lives. unfortunately one of their teachers ended up passing away to which they both showed up at the funeral. amy (that's her name) looked up and saw james (that's his name) and immediately started laughing in the middle of the service. she then excused herself and went outside to catch some fresh air. shortly thereafter james came outside and tapped her on her shoulder.
she quickly turned around and blurted out "i'm sorry," in the middle of her giggles.
james said, "i'd be sorry too if i bust out laughing during a funeral." amy quickly responded, "oh no. that's not why i'm sorry. i'm sorry about punching you those many years ago." they both laughed. and he apologized for bringing her to that point. they agreed to get a cup of coffee after the funeral in which he admired how amy with the pigtails was now amy with curves and a smile that could give the sun competition.
as james sipped his coffee, amy admired the man he had become. his broad shoulders and his facial hair was a long cry from the freckled boy who used to bother her. the two sat across from one another nostalgic and yet amazed.
james asked amy what she had been doing with her time since she punched him square in the eye during recess. the once shy and sweet amy had joined the army, married an army man, been deployed to war, lost that army man in that war and had returned home to find a sense of peace. she came to the funeral because their teacher had been part of the best time in her life. in order to reacquaint herself with who she was, it was only right to go back to where she came from.
when asked the same question, james was almost ashamed by what he had done. he had found a good job after college and married his high school sweetheart. he even had a set of twins with her but in his selfish haste to make money instead of love, their marriage ended in divorce. here james was, divorced by his own selfish merit while amy's love was taken from her. he could see the pain in her eyes and she could see the regret in his.
that night james had tickets to go to a baseball game. he was going to invite this girl he'd been seeing for a couple of weeks but instead invites amy. he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. he asked her, hoping that a woman who could go to war could tolerate a baseball game.
"james, i hate baseball but if i go, you have to do something i like." he quickly agreed. if it meant seeing her smile for just ten more seconds, he would do it. he couldn't describe the feeling but he knew it was there.
"are you going to tell me what it is now or do i have to wait?" he asked her.
"you waited eight years, two more hours won't hurt," she replied.
they watched the game. well, he watched the game. she ate every snack that came down the aisle. hot dogs, popcorn, candied apples. you name it, she digested it.
"war give you an appetite like that?" james inquired.
she laughed between bites. "well when you can't eat, it certainly makes you want to."
as they got to her doorstep, he was anxious to find out what she would make him do.
"well james, i see you're itching with excitement about our next outing so i'll tell you like this. be here tomorrow at 0900 hours. not a minute after. don't bother calling. just be here. good night."
she was tough. he should have known when she punched him but now he knew for sure.
amy climbed in bed that night nervous herself. as she looked at her wedding ring on the table, she knew her husband would want her to be happy but she was still so sad. tomorrow morning she would know how happy she could be and then being sad will be just another memory.
as promised james showed up at 0900 hours.
"do you want me to drive?" he asked.
"nope. you're stuck with a woman driver today. fasten your seat belt, " she smirked.
"be careful with me." he laughed nervously.
"if i can drive a tank, i can drive you. come on. we can't be late."
they drove and went over middle school memories for twenty five minutes until they reached their destination. it was an office building. the beige walls were coved in paintings of nature. positive quotes and affirmations hung on every door and everybody in the waiting room shared a sense of anxiety. though the office they entered was soothing, it was also ambiguous giving no hints as to what they were there for. amy walked right up to the desk where the receptionist greeted her.
"amy! today's the day. go right on through. she's waiting for you." she then looked at james. "you can follow her straight back dad." he was confused. how did she know he was a dad? maybe she assumed they were husband and wife. but neither of them had wedding rings. and if she knew her by name, the wouldn't she know amy's husband had passed? still he quickly dismissed those thoughts. he had to follow amy.
a small woman who looked to be about their age hugged amy as soon as she made it around the corner. they smiled and held a conversation that seemed to be between friends, not just two people meeting for an appointment. the small woman turned to james. "hey! we'll be ready for you in a sec. i'll come out and get you. i'm sandra."
"i'm james," he said as he stuck out his hand, "nice to meet you."
"likewise" she replied.
as james sat waiting, he wondered where they could be. no one had given him the slightest clue. amy had always been good at keeping secrets. that's probably why the army wanted her. ten minutes passed and sandra returned from behind the oak door. when james walked in, the room was quiet except for the whirring sound of the machine. there amy lay on a table with her pants pulled down slightly and her shirt pulled up underneath her bra. her bare skin had revealed a small bump. you would never notice with her clothes. sh.t he didn't. across her belly was a pink strap with a little circle. the circle was making the whirring sound as it picked up the baby's heartbeat. amy was pregnant. no wonder she ate the whole stadium out and no wonder she was so curvaceous. and that's why the receptionist called him dad. james took a seat. amy looked up to see his reaction with tears in her eyes.
"this is what i've been up to," she said.
"i know the feeling" he replied. "do you know what you're having?"
"a boy. what are the odds?" she laughed.
as she got off the table and put her clothes back over the most subtle pregnancy, james had a million thoughts flowing through his mind. when they finally made it outside, amy turned to him.
"this is my life. this is who i am now. if you want to get to know me this is me. i don't need you to be his father, he had one and we lost him. but if i see what you're feeling correctly, then this is me. and if you want me, you have to want all of me. now that you know, i'm sure it's not easy, but it's as real as it's ever going to get." she exhaled glad to get that off her chest. she knew he had been interested as was she. but she couldn't risk having to choose between the life she lived and the life she wanted. she would understand if he didn't want her. after all, he already been divorced with two little girls. he had enough on his plate.
james looked at amy and saw what his ex wife had desperately wanted him to see. he saw something worth working for. he saw someone that could be his equal and yet still something to aspire to. he saw the little girl he loved standing in front of him as a woman he now barely knew. he saw that amy had been what he couldn't be - selfless. she had lost so much and was still giving more without being any less. james exhaled. he touched her face, sure that no one had touched her like that since her husband passed. he kissed her something so reminiscent of the day he kissed his ex wife on their wedding day. he kissed her from a place of love that he believed in that second would only get better with time. when he opened his eyes and pulled his lips from hers, he whispered, "i always wanted a boy. let's go."
the end
what's fascinating is how i managed to type this on my iphone at 4 in the morning and it took me an hour to complete. looking over it, there's so much more i could say in this story, but i wanted to give you the conversation as it came to me and the person reading - raw and uncut. maybe i'll go over it, maybe i won't, but the point remains the same. maintain the integrity of the craft by letting it come to you so that you can give it to someone else in any way, shape or form and that includes text messaging.
there was a boy and a girl. he used to pull her pigtails and trip her in the schoolyard. one day she finally punched him and they didn't speak for eight long years. he got married and divorced. she got a car and crashed it. they led separate lives. unfortunately one of their teachers ended up passing away to which they both showed up at the funeral. amy (that's her name) looked up and saw james (that's his name) and immediately started laughing in the middle of the service. she then excused herself and went outside to catch some fresh air. shortly thereafter james came outside and tapped her on her shoulder.
she quickly turned around and blurted out "i'm sorry," in the middle of her giggles.
james said, "i'd be sorry too if i bust out laughing during a funeral." amy quickly responded, "oh no. that's not why i'm sorry. i'm sorry about punching you those many years ago." they both laughed. and he apologized for bringing her to that point. they agreed to get a cup of coffee after the funeral in which he admired how amy with the pigtails was now amy with curves and a smile that could give the sun competition.
as james sipped his coffee, amy admired the man he had become. his broad shoulders and his facial hair was a long cry from the freckled boy who used to bother her. the two sat across from one another nostalgic and yet amazed.
james asked amy what she had been doing with her time since she punched him square in the eye during recess. the once shy and sweet amy had joined the army, married an army man, been deployed to war, lost that army man in that war and had returned home to find a sense of peace. she came to the funeral because their teacher had been part of the best time in her life. in order to reacquaint herself with who she was, it was only right to go back to where she came from.
when asked the same question, james was almost ashamed by what he had done. he had found a good job after college and married his high school sweetheart. he even had a set of twins with her but in his selfish haste to make money instead of love, their marriage ended in divorce. here james was, divorced by his own selfish merit while amy's love was taken from her. he could see the pain in her eyes and she could see the regret in his.
that night james had tickets to go to a baseball game. he was going to invite this girl he'd been seeing for a couple of weeks but instead invites amy. he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. he asked her, hoping that a woman who could go to war could tolerate a baseball game.
"james, i hate baseball but if i go, you have to do something i like." he quickly agreed. if it meant seeing her smile for just ten more seconds, he would do it. he couldn't describe the feeling but he knew it was there.
"are you going to tell me what it is now or do i have to wait?" he asked her.
"you waited eight years, two more hours won't hurt," she replied.
they watched the game. well, he watched the game. she ate every snack that came down the aisle. hot dogs, popcorn, candied apples. you name it, she digested it.
"war give you an appetite like that?" james inquired.
she laughed between bites. "well when you can't eat, it certainly makes you want to."
as they got to her doorstep, he was anxious to find out what she would make him do.
"well james, i see you're itching with excitement about our next outing so i'll tell you like this. be here tomorrow at 0900 hours. not a minute after. don't bother calling. just be here. good night."
she was tough. he should have known when she punched him but now he knew for sure.
amy climbed in bed that night nervous herself. as she looked at her wedding ring on the table, she knew her husband would want her to be happy but she was still so sad. tomorrow morning she would know how happy she could be and then being sad will be just another memory.
as promised james showed up at 0900 hours.
"do you want me to drive?" he asked.
"nope. you're stuck with a woman driver today. fasten your seat belt, " she smirked.
"be careful with me." he laughed nervously.
"if i can drive a tank, i can drive you. come on. we can't be late."
they drove and went over middle school memories for twenty five minutes until they reached their destination. it was an office building. the beige walls were coved in paintings of nature. positive quotes and affirmations hung on every door and everybody in the waiting room shared a sense of anxiety. though the office they entered was soothing, it was also ambiguous giving no hints as to what they were there for. amy walked right up to the desk where the receptionist greeted her.
"amy! today's the day. go right on through. she's waiting for you." she then looked at james. "you can follow her straight back dad." he was confused. how did she know he was a dad? maybe she assumed they were husband and wife. but neither of them had wedding rings. and if she knew her by name, the wouldn't she know amy's husband had passed? still he quickly dismissed those thoughts. he had to follow amy.
a small woman who looked to be about their age hugged amy as soon as she made it around the corner. they smiled and held a conversation that seemed to be between friends, not just two people meeting for an appointment. the small woman turned to james. "hey! we'll be ready for you in a sec. i'll come out and get you. i'm sandra."
"i'm james," he said as he stuck out his hand, "nice to meet you."
"likewise" she replied.
as james sat waiting, he wondered where they could be. no one had given him the slightest clue. amy had always been good at keeping secrets. that's probably why the army wanted her. ten minutes passed and sandra returned from behind the oak door. when james walked in, the room was quiet except for the whirring sound of the machine. there amy lay on a table with her pants pulled down slightly and her shirt pulled up underneath her bra. her bare skin had revealed a small bump. you would never notice with her clothes. sh.t he didn't. across her belly was a pink strap with a little circle. the circle was making the whirring sound as it picked up the baby's heartbeat. amy was pregnant. no wonder she ate the whole stadium out and no wonder she was so curvaceous. and that's why the receptionist called him dad. james took a seat. amy looked up to see his reaction with tears in her eyes.
"this is what i've been up to," she said.
"i know the feeling" he replied. "do you know what you're having?"
"a boy. what are the odds?" she laughed.
as she got off the table and put her clothes back over the most subtle pregnancy, james had a million thoughts flowing through his mind. when they finally made it outside, amy turned to him.
"this is my life. this is who i am now. if you want to get to know me this is me. i don't need you to be his father, he had one and we lost him. but if i see what you're feeling correctly, then this is me. and if you want me, you have to want all of me. now that you know, i'm sure it's not easy, but it's as real as it's ever going to get." she exhaled glad to get that off her chest. she knew he had been interested as was she. but she couldn't risk having to choose between the life she lived and the life she wanted. she would understand if he didn't want her. after all, he already been divorced with two little girls. he had enough on his plate.
james looked at amy and saw what his ex wife had desperately wanted him to see. he saw something worth working for. he saw someone that could be his equal and yet still something to aspire to. he saw the little girl he loved standing in front of him as a woman he now barely knew. he saw that amy had been what he couldn't be - selfless. she had lost so much and was still giving more without being any less. james exhaled. he touched her face, sure that no one had touched her like that since her husband passed. he kissed her something so reminiscent of the day he kissed his ex wife on their wedding day. he kissed her from a place of love that he believed in that second would only get better with time. when he opened his eyes and pulled his lips from hers, he whispered, "i always wanted a boy. let's go."
the end
what's fascinating is how i managed to type this on my iphone at 4 in the morning and it took me an hour to complete. looking over it, there's so much more i could say in this story, but i wanted to give you the conversation as it came to me and the person reading - raw and uncut. maybe i'll go over it, maybe i won't, but the point remains the same. maintain the integrity of the craft by letting it come to you so that you can give it to someone else in any way, shape or form and that includes text messaging.
man code
lyfe jennings is probably breaking all types of man code with this one. but as long as he remains true to the art and the life it represents i'm not mad. i've been following his career since his debut on Showtime at the Apollo and it's only gotten better. i fell in love with one of his first singles, Cry and i've been there ever since. will you join me?
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
finish this sentence 2.
i did something like this a while back. click here to see if anything's changed.
I would like...to change the world
But I need...to change myself
I believe...pretzels and spaghetti are comfort foodsnot together though
I wish...I was better at lying
I'd rather...sleep and do nothing than be awake doing nothing
Sometimes friends...become family
I can't remember...how I fell in love
I can't forget...that I did though
We...are f.cking this all up
He...doesn't know me,
She...wishes she did and
It...bothers me all the time
God willing...I'm writing a book for each life I've lived, at least one, at most three
My tattoo...is going to be with me forevereven if he isn't
I would like...to change the world
But I need...to change myself
I believe...pretzels and spaghetti are comfort foods
I wish...I was better at lying
I'd rather...sleep and do nothing than be awake doing nothing
Sometimes friends...become family
I can't remember...how I fell in love
I can't forget...that I did though
We...are f.cking this all up
He...doesn't know me,
She...wishes she did and
It...bothers me all the time
God willing...I'm writing a book for each life I've lived, at least one, at most three
My tattoo...is going to be with me forever
Inspiration comes...from everywhere but not from everyone
It feels like God...hears me but certainly doesn't want to
My favorite picture is...a sonogram
I don't know...when I'll stop looking for a job, even after I have one
A genie...should grant more than three wishes
Emotions...are the best authors
Wild horses...eventually stop running
Broken promises...make somebody happy, I'm convinced
Kissing me...is like telling my soul a secret
Suicide...isn't the only sin
Facebook...is the devil's invention
I don't...like liars but I understand them
The truth...doesn't set you free until you set it free first
something about this.
i'm gonna say it one more time. i hate pictures. but i love this one.
five in the morning. boys are arguing about sports.
and we're just happy that they're passionate about something.
trust or lack thereof.
i know i can be complicated. complicated in the sense that i try my hardest to remain true to my feelings even when it hurts yours. even though i want everyone around me to be happy, i'm completely ok in my madness and the only time i question that madness is when it interferes with your happiness. that being said, i talk to my exes. just two. i mean that's all i really have when i look back on it. but i talk to them. not all the time. some of the time. even i'm surprised when we talk. why do we talk? clearly because we have something to say. something as harmless as basketball or work. sometimes, it can be something as crazy as getting back together but the point is we talk. and we talk because at one point in our lives, we were each other's best friend, the person you woke up to, the person you called first if you didn't wake up to them, the person who was there for every doctor appointment, every interview, every birthday, everything. at one point, they were a reflection of self, two people that know me better than most. so i think, the conversations held are simply a reminder of who i am. it's like my dna. you want to know what pisses me off? ask him. you want to know what can make me happy on a terrible day? ask him. you want to know why i love so hard? ask him. you want to know why i can't love anymore? ask him. the truth is that some of my deepest and even most entertaining secrets are locked in those two human beings. sometimes i talk to them because given a particular situation, they may be the only one who can ever truly understand. that doesn't take away from anyone else, that's just our relationship. i find it hard to even imagine how anyone can think that i'm capable of loving if the two people i've loved the most, i ignore. that doesn't even sound right. and it's not to go over our mistakes and it's not to relive the past. it's simply 'i've loved you and you were a big part of my life. so tell me, what's new in yours?'
is it insane to think that because things didn't work out, we can't speak or speak on someone's else's terms because they're insecure? should anyone have input on a relationship that didn't include them? what happens when it's you? what happens if and when my next relationship fails and you want to call just to see what i'm up to and i say, "yeah i know i loved you and everything but someone told me to stop talking to you so later?" what happens then?
love is deep and like i said in an earlier post, there's something deeper than love that i haven't found a word for. whatever it is, when you really love someone and you can't imagine life without them, you won't live life without them, no matter who asks you to. if and when i come to a point, where that lover turned best friend turns into a stranger, then that's the point that i have come to on my own, on our own terms. but until then that lover is still my best friend, still the person i went through unimaginable things with, the person i shared my soul with. trying to keep me from the person i know best, loved the hardest and shared a life with is a slap in my face. a part of him made a part of me who i am today. so how dare anyone tell me that i can only talk to this part of my dna twice a month to make you feel a little more comfortable? kill me now because if i can't remember the life i've lived then it's not worth living.
is it insane to think that because things didn't work out, we can't speak or speak on someone's else's terms because they're insecure? should anyone have input on a relationship that didn't include them? what happens when it's you? what happens if and when my next relationship fails and you want to call just to see what i'm up to and i say, "yeah i know i loved you and everything but someone told me to stop talking to you so later?" what happens then?
love is deep and like i said in an earlier post, there's something deeper than love that i haven't found a word for. whatever it is, when you really love someone and you can't imagine life without them, you won't live life without them, no matter who asks you to. if and when i come to a point, where that lover turned best friend turns into a stranger, then that's the point that i have come to on my own, on our own terms. but until then that lover is still my best friend, still the person i went through unimaginable things with, the person i shared my soul with. trying to keep me from the person i know best, loved the hardest and shared a life with is a slap in my face. a part of him made a part of me who i am today. so how dare anyone tell me that i can only talk to this part of my dna twice a month to make you feel a little more comfortable? kill me now because if i can't remember the life i've lived then it's not worth living.
dumb ass question
play the sex quiz. even if we are friends, would you f.ck me? where? drunk/sober? lights on/off? to what song? fast or slow? position? oral? relationship/fling? condom/skin?
i obliged with the following reply.
if i were to answer that question, it would be...Sure, most likely in a hotel room cuz i like their showers. i'm always sober even when i'm drunk. lights off, i only trust sunlight. i don't think i'll take the time to pick a song, I come with my own soundtrack, literally. Real slow, slow enough to make time stop. Any position that gets you there. Your tongue in my mouth is intimate enough [no need for oral]. just cuz we have relations doesn't mean it's a relationship. What's sex if it's not like your emotions, raw?
that's my default answer. and i'm sticking to it.
i obliged with the following reply.
if i were to answer that question, it would be...Sure, most likely in a hotel room cuz i like their showers. i'm always sober even when i'm drunk. lights off, i only trust sunlight. i don't think i'll take the time to pick a song, I come with my own soundtrack, literally. Real slow, slow enough to make time stop. Any position that gets you there. Your tongue in my mouth is intimate enough [no need for oral]. just cuz we have relations doesn't mean it's a relationship. What's sex if it's not like your emotions, raw?
that's my default answer. and i'm sticking to it.
ring the alarm. we've been through this too long.
this morning as i got dressed, i heard the Sean Bell verdict on the televisions. Who's Sean Bell? Just another INNOCENT black man slain, the night before his wedding. 50 bullets. no weapon. no drugs. not even a speeding ticket. just a black man in his car with his two friends, celebrating his soon to be wedding with the mother of his two daughters. just another black man. when i heard they awarded Bell's estate 3.5 million, to his friend who was shot 11 times, 3 million and to the other friend who was shot 3 times, $900,000. Yes. 3 black men were shot, one assassinated while the other two left most of their life in that bullet ridden car.
when i heard the verdict, i was happy for all them considering they should never have to work again after such a traumatic and barbaric display by none other than NYPD. but then i thought about it , they probably won't ever work again, they probably won't ever feel comfortable going out to a bar again or going to the mall or playing basketball in their neighborhood. they'll never be the same again. for the two that were lucky or blessed enough to survive, physically they still have injuries and complications from the massacre but emotionally, i can only imagine what kind of effect being that close to death can have on someone. and for Bell who unfortunately lost his life - not too many people can survive 50 gunshot wounds, even with the 3.5 million dolloars, there is no closure to his fiance, his family and most of all his children.
no amount of money will ease the hole of him not being there. no amount of money can fill 50 holes especially.
when i heard the verdict, i was happy for all them considering they should never have to work again after such a traumatic and barbaric display by none other than NYPD. but then i thought about it , they probably won't ever work again, they probably won't ever feel comfortable going out to a bar again or going to the mall or playing basketball in their neighborhood. they'll never be the same again. for the two that were lucky or blessed enough to survive, physically they still have injuries and complications from the massacre but emotionally, i can only imagine what kind of effect being that close to death can have on someone. and for Bell who unfortunately lost his life - not too many people can survive 50 gunshot wounds, even with the 3.5 million dolloars, there is no closure to his fiance, his family and most of all his children.
no amount of money will ease the hole of him not being there. no amount of money can fill 50 holes especially.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
you called me what?
poet. a person who composes poetry.
poet. a person who has the gift of poetic thought, imagination and creation, together with eloquence of expression.
hmm. by this definition i guess i'm a poet. but i don't feel like one. my voice doesn't go up and down when i speak the words into the atmosphere. and i don't have a feather for a pen either. although that would be really cool. i don't think there's an accurate word for what i do or what i've done. this is just the chronological order of my experiences and sometimes not even that. though i rarely write with the intent to perform, if ever, the word 'poet' yet and still makes me uneasy. it comes with expectations that a) i don't care about fulfilling and b) whose definition is not stable enough to cater to the unstable which is what creativity is all about anyway. i'm just saying, words belong on pages, not in boxes.
click click
i'm a person who hates pictures but i do believe they play a critical role in how we see ourselves and how others see us. i see someone very playful when i look these portraits and even though i cant make a serious face to save my life, i do have a serious side. somewhere under the big hair, it's there, i swear. but the biggest thing i've noticed in myself as of late is that i am absolutely comfortable with the woman i appear to be. i'm silly and tiny. and with hair this big, who needs earrings?
rubber ducks.
it sounded like waterfalls in my shower today. it started as a blue bath, royal like the Caribbean seas way past the point of buoys and sailboats. first i dipped my pink toes and high arches in the warm water. i watched my ankles submerge in the shallow ripples. the heat of the water sank into my pores and the tingling let me know i'm alive still. i bent my knees to put the rest of my body in and took a seat on the white ceramic under that blue water. my breasts peaked up above the water line where the two elements met each other to compromise. my body melted into the tub and while it took a rest, my mind caught up to share a dance with my emotions.
the soundtrack went a little like this...
baby you have to be in love
cuz hate can't keep up with you
and sex can't hold you down
you're in a tough spot somewhere between heaven and shame
and you've got your legs open just to ease the pain
they say you've got your heart on your sleeve
covering up the bruises on your arm
little do they know it's the tattoo that made you bleed
sit still this may take a while
mistaken for a scar or a sentence
they don't know the ink is for a child
sit down sweetheart
just take your time
in the morning, it will be alright
and the minute that you learn love is not a game
you'll realize you never lost...
i let the cold shower run over my hot bath and made waterfalls within tiles which only taught me that it is quite possible to feel fireworks in my spirit and butterflies in my belly. i can fall in love again. but i have to get up first. i have to get up first. naked but i have to get up first.
the soundtrack went a little like this...
baby you have to be in love
cuz hate can't keep up with you
and sex can't hold you down
you're in a tough spot somewhere between heaven and shame
and you've got your legs open just to ease the pain
they say you've got your heart on your sleeve
covering up the bruises on your arm
little do they know it's the tattoo that made you bleed
sit still this may take a while
mistaken for a scar or a sentence
they don't know the ink is for a child
sit down sweetheart
just take your time
in the morning, it will be alright
and the minute that you learn love is not a game
you'll realize you never lost...
i let the cold shower run over my hot bath and made waterfalls within tiles which only taught me that it is quite possible to feel fireworks in my spirit and butterflies in my belly. i can fall in love again. but i have to get up first. i have to get up first. naked but i have to get up first.
Monday, July 26, 2010
crying in silence
him: you should be a politician
me: i don't want to be a politician, i don't want to be another person to lie to you
him: the way you maneuver your words, you don't have to
i don't think we should suffer in silence. there should be a balance between expressing our joys and our anguish. i am transparent when it comes to every emotion not just dissatisfaction. but if i choose to discuss my disappointments, is that not ok? should i suffer in silence? should i withdraw into my emotions? should i spare you the reality of the unhappy me? my woes, however often or rare they may be, make my joys that much sweeter. you either join me for the ride or excuse yourself now.
me: i don't want to be a politician, i don't want to be another person to lie to you
him: the way you maneuver your words, you don't have to
i don't think we should suffer in silence. there should be a balance between expressing our joys and our anguish. i am transparent when it comes to every emotion not just dissatisfaction. but if i choose to discuss my disappointments, is that not ok? should i suffer in silence? should i withdraw into my emotions? should i spare you the reality of the unhappy me? my woes, however often or rare they may be, make my joys that much sweeter. you either join me for the ride or excuse yourself now.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
the repercussions
lauryn hill reminds me of my sister. beautifully alike. and with them you never really know if they've reached their potential because they're always getting better. my sister is only that. a shared blood type and hair texture. other than that, her beauty lies beneath a lot of ugly. but lauryn hill, who this is really about is a walking legend. that's got to be a lot of pressure. she's responsible for taking me through puberty, self esteem and my natural hair. she's responsible for teaching me how to use this voice, whether in a melody or a paragraph. she's responsible for letting me know that fear is a healthy part of living and if i have to fall back just to stay on, then that's what the f.ck i'm going to do. this is just my personal relationship with the lauryn of legends. i can't even imagine what she's done for others. but i miss her. i listen to her songs like they're journal entries reminding of places i've been and people i've been with. each song puts me back to a time when i was rocking big earrings and name plates or when i cut my hair to the scalp as a sincere f.ck you to the white man and the asians' creamy crack. her voice has walked with me for as long as i can remember and i miss her. i miss her talent, i miss her emotion. i miss her dialogue and most of all i miss her brown skin and her lips with her threatening eyes but her kind words. i even miss the way she curses. while i rock out to her melodies on the days i don't feel like talking, i have to say, even legends bleed, but they never die. enjoy.
their eyes were watching God.
The view from my window has gone completely white. The wind howls louder than lost souls in purgatory. The rain sounds like the slap a black woman gives her husband for leaving her for a white woman. Nature has gone mad. This torrential downpour has everybody's attention on God. We might have fucked this one up. Would it be completely wrong if the rain washed everything out and started this life as we know it, over? Maybe then, first loves would know their worth and new boyfriends would know how indispensable they are. Maybe then if all of nature's madness could put a calm to our own, we could start over within ourselves by following the example of the Earth.
The soundtrack of the storm plays like the one in my heart. Steady, monotonous, never skipping a beat. Whether it plays for five minutes or a lifetime, I know the melody too well, I know the melody by heart. I guess that's what they mean when something is so connected to your spirit that life ceases to exist without it's pitter patter underneath your ribs. The solitude of a storm can sometimes bring it all together for you. It's wondrous to think that when you feel like it's all going to end, how many things you have yet to begin. Watching cars stutter through white lines and trees dance while their limbs bark makes our humanity seem in vain. The world would be much more beautiful without our litter, litter being anything from styrofoam cups to panties reminiscent of the evening before and the man after. But for now, we're here, stuck in the limbo where humanity witnesses divinity and we still don't know any better. The nerve of us to say there is no God, when every day I look at something that man could never touch and never grasp, something as simple as raindrops and as complex as tornadoes. Who owns that? Who controls that? Who schedules that? The best thing I've seen man do is witness the testimony, maybe even write it all down. But the story? It escapes us and it always has. The writer, being an anonymous force that lurks and lingers around to the point where we sometimes even forget he, she or it exists until thunder storms outside of our windows. Even though we can take credit for making those windows, we must not forget their purpose - to keep the outside from coming inside. The mere thought of never knowing when or what that outside will be should keep us aware of how much we are truly unaware of.
In fact, the only ones I think even have a clue are animals. They can smell a storm and they are on the move as the seasons change. They never look back, not for a job, a significant other or even each other. When it's time to go, it's time to go. I'm convinced that their ability to move when sitting still is no longer plausible has everything to do with Noah and his ark. But us? Us, measly humans can't seem to figure out, as a collective at least, that leaving everything behind is sometimes the only way we can save ourselves. So, instead, we end up dying a million times holding onto poisonous things, even when the dark skies tell us we need to find some new light. You know who else has it figured out a little more than we do? Plants. When it rains, it pours and they're thankful. When the sun shines, they stretch their stems toward the only infinite source of energy. They do not compete with one another, they do not lean their buds into one another to gossip. They all search for their fair share of shine.
But one thing, that I do notice that has an uncanny way of reflecting one another is our emotions and the weather. Like plants, the sun replenishes what we may have lost in the misery of gray skies and darker pasts. When the sun peeks through those fluffy clouds, our steps seem a lighter and our smiles, even the most awkward ones, smile. But when the weather takes that turn to wipe away the litter we've piled up on its terrain, our emotions feel the brunt. Our spirits pour like precipitation and each new emotion piles up like fresh white snow, too cold to be naked but too pretty to avoid. We become the scenery. Like raindrops disappear in oceans, we run like rivers. Perpetrating ourselves to be products of nature, reminiscent of an image we've never really known. In essence, that's what nature is, an essence that we are simple replicas of. Our speech does not make us greater, our accomplishments does not make us superior. We are simply witnesses, here to keep the story alive for as long as we are. And in the event that we ever forget how breathtaking the view is from where we stand, nature in all of his or her or its glory, will rage so loud and so terrifying that it will take the rib from Adam, create Eve and start over.
The soundtrack of the storm plays like the one in my heart. Steady, monotonous, never skipping a beat. Whether it plays for five minutes or a lifetime, I know the melody too well, I know the melody by heart. I guess that's what they mean when something is so connected to your spirit that life ceases to exist without it's pitter patter underneath your ribs. The solitude of a storm can sometimes bring it all together for you. It's wondrous to think that when you feel like it's all going to end, how many things you have yet to begin. Watching cars stutter through white lines and trees dance while their limbs bark makes our humanity seem in vain. The world would be much more beautiful without our litter, litter being anything from styrofoam cups to panties reminiscent of the evening before and the man after. But for now, we're here, stuck in the limbo where humanity witnesses divinity and we still don't know any better. The nerve of us to say there is no God, when every day I look at something that man could never touch and never grasp, something as simple as raindrops and as complex as tornadoes. Who owns that? Who controls that? Who schedules that? The best thing I've seen man do is witness the testimony, maybe even write it all down. But the story? It escapes us and it always has. The writer, being an anonymous force that lurks and lingers around to the point where we sometimes even forget he, she or it exists until thunder storms outside of our windows. Even though we can take credit for making those windows, we must not forget their purpose - to keep the outside from coming inside. The mere thought of never knowing when or what that outside will be should keep us aware of how much we are truly unaware of.
In fact, the only ones I think even have a clue are animals. They can smell a storm and they are on the move as the seasons change. They never look back, not for a job, a significant other or even each other. When it's time to go, it's time to go. I'm convinced that their ability to move when sitting still is no longer plausible has everything to do with Noah and his ark. But us? Us, measly humans can't seem to figure out, as a collective at least, that leaving everything behind is sometimes the only way we can save ourselves. So, instead, we end up dying a million times holding onto poisonous things, even when the dark skies tell us we need to find some new light. You know who else has it figured out a little more than we do? Plants. When it rains, it pours and they're thankful. When the sun shines, they stretch their stems toward the only infinite source of energy. They do not compete with one another, they do not lean their buds into one another to gossip. They all search for their fair share of shine.
But one thing, that I do notice that has an uncanny way of reflecting one another is our emotions and the weather. Like plants, the sun replenishes what we may have lost in the misery of gray skies and darker pasts. When the sun peeks through those fluffy clouds, our steps seem a lighter and our smiles, even the most awkward ones, smile. But when the weather takes that turn to wipe away the litter we've piled up on its terrain, our emotions feel the brunt. Our spirits pour like precipitation and each new emotion piles up like fresh white snow, too cold to be naked but too pretty to avoid. We become the scenery. Like raindrops disappear in oceans, we run like rivers. Perpetrating ourselves to be products of nature, reminiscent of an image we've never really known. In essence, that's what nature is, an essence that we are simple replicas of. Our speech does not make us greater, our accomplishments does not make us superior. We are simply witnesses, here to keep the story alive for as long as we are. And in the event that we ever forget how breathtaking the view is from where we stand, nature in all of his or her or its glory, will rage so loud and so terrifying that it will take the rib from Adam, create Eve and start over.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
purge yourself
i wrote nearly 3500 hundred words that i have never even spoken out loud today. it took me about six hours, with a few breaks in between. i'm better for it. i'm tired but i'm so much better for it. i don't have the heart to post it, one day i'm sure i will but that day is not today. however i say all this to say, that even if you never tell another soul, purge yourself of your deepest, darkest secrets. whether you say it out loud in front of the mirror when you're home alone or you write it all down and then burn it, free yourself from whatever has you so wound up. you don't have to face the world but face yourself. speak the words that hold you captive into the existence and you'll experience your own freedom. when you have unlocked your past, you will find that your future has been waiting.
Friday, July 23, 2010
it's a celebration!
i usually don't celebrate my birthday. just because whenever i seem to plan fun, fun is nowhere to be found. but since the last two birthdays were SO good, i believe this one can be just as spectacular. for twenty two the GOLDEN birthday, i partied it up in D.C. as a single lady on the prowl [wore leopard print and everything]. twenty three was romantic and intimate, much thanks to the best friends and the boo the guy that introduced me to birthday sex so good, i don't ever wanna repeat it. so this year, for twenty four, i decided to celebrate my birthday by celebrating the fabulous women i know. i am so blessed to have such great examples of beautiful, kind and intelligent women that it's about damn time i say thank you.
they are inspirational, they are motivated and they are a GOOD TIME whenever we get together. life always seems to get in the way so we don't get to spend as much time with each other as we would like. but sometimes the universe gives us a day off to just enjoy being fabulous and that day is my birthday. i simply want to be surrounded by good deeds and kind gestures, by the people that have been there for years and have a positive effect on the woman i've become.
because they are so special to me, i decided that a SPA day will give me everything i want and everything they deserve. unfortunately they have to pay their own way.it's relatively cheap but this ain't sweet sixteen, this is more like broke 24. anyway, we get to lounge around, drink and talk about boys, jobs or lack thereof, family and the latest hollywood gossip. all the while treating ourselves and our bodies to massages, facials and all that good stuff. so all in all, i would love for my birthday to be the rejuvenation of mind, body and soul for all the women that work hard and deserve to play harder.
and to be sure we'll have a good time, here are some pics from the two birthdays i mentioned.
happy birthday to me but here's to appreciating you! cheers.
if you're not in these, make sure you get a picture this time around!
they are inspirational, they are motivated and they are a GOOD TIME whenever we get together. life always seems to get in the way so we don't get to spend as much time with each other as we would like. but sometimes the universe gives us a day off to just enjoy being fabulous and that day is my birthday. i simply want to be surrounded by good deeds and kind gestures, by the people that have been there for years and have a positive effect on the woman i've become.
because they are so special to me, i decided that a SPA day will give me everything i want and everything they deserve. unfortunately they have to pay their own way.
and to be sure we'll have a good time, here are some pics from the two birthdays i mentioned.
happy birthday to me but here's to appreciating you! cheers.
if you're not in these, make sure you get a picture this time around!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
love and basketball. no, not the movie.
now if you haven't heard, the greatest player to ever play the game to date, Michael Jordan
so you mean you just wanna up and leave and go somewhere else? you want to play with them now? what about us? we've been by your side this whole time? we've supported you, we've made you better, we were there for everything, your accomplishments, your downfalls. we loved you when these options were impossibilities. and now you just wanna up and leave?
now after having a conversation like that, it's hard to tell whether we're talking about love or basketball. in this case, we can be talking about both. if it is true that he's looking for a trade in which i say, "damn lakers, y'all gonna give up Bynum like that? he's been playing with an excruciating torn meniscus
either way, in love and basketball, trades happen all the time, especially when you least expect it. you can offer all the incentives you want and offer all the history y'all have together but when someone is ready to go or not ready to stay, start getting political. go ahead and prepare your statement, "i love (insert free agent, chris paul or ex boyfriend/husband name here) and though we've decided to go our separate ways (even though we didn't decide anything, it was more like he did and then told you about it) i wish him nothing but happiness in all his endeavors." blah blah blah. nobody gets to that point that fast. but nonetheless, speak kind words but it's ok to hope that the trade/new girlfriend doesn't work out and he realizes how good of a team/girlfriend you were to him and comes running home, with a ring...the championship ring.
if i knew then what i know now.
"what God put together, let no man put asunder."
i've been replaying moments in my mind like a movie. pausing and rewinding to things that went right over my head. sometimes i even feel guilty for throwing away things brought to me by a higher being because it wasn't the right time, place or person. when i watch the movie in my head, i realize it's my heart that's doing the most commentary. you should have said this tass or you shouldn't have done that. but either way, what's done is done and whether i'm the main character or the supporting actress, the show must go on. there is no room for guilt, shame or defeat. there is only room for more tape so we can continue filming this episode we call life. as much as we would like to go back to moments and change the script, what we've done is not the final review of who we will be.
some decisions were not easy, some were even unforgivable. but all of them were made with what i knew then, not now. hindsight is 20/20 but while we're living, we can only see what's right in front of us, feel what's behind us and hope that someone who loves us, will be right beside us.
i've been replaying moments in my mind like a movie. pausing and rewinding to things that went right over my head. sometimes i even feel guilty for throwing away things brought to me by a higher being because it wasn't the right time, place or person. when i watch the movie in my head, i realize it's my heart that's doing the most commentary. you should have said this tass or you shouldn't have done that. but either way, what's done is done and whether i'm the main character or the supporting actress, the show must go on. there is no room for guilt, shame or defeat. there is only room for more tape so we can continue filming this episode we call life. as much as we would like to go back to moments and change the script, what we've done is not the final review of who we will be.
some decisions were not easy, some were even unforgivable. but all of them were made with what i knew then, not now. hindsight is 20/20 but while we're living, we can only see what's right in front of us, feel what's behind us and hope that someone who loves us, will be right beside us.
playlist.
someone asked me my top five r & b female/male singers are...can never be just five. and this is only the list from 2000 and up...don't let me get into the 90s.
hmm. i can feel hundreds of songs going through my head.
i have to say monica. i grew up with her sophomore album with 'street symphony,' first night' and 'angel of mine.'
lauryn hill. walking legend.
floetry. they make the ugliest things sound beautiful.
beyonce not the performer but the singer. the subtle songs. the ones they don't play on the radio.
adele has a special place in my heart.
and i will not forget amy winehouse. she gets under my skin in the best way.
alicia keys. she may not respect a relationship but she respects her craft.
chrisette michele and jazmine sullivan count as one for me because i haven't been following like a fan should.
honorable mentions to aaliyah. that last album was going places.
vivian green. sweet soul.
erykah badu. i have a lot of catching up to do.
sade. baby father was written for me. i'm convinced.
india arie. where did she go?
melanie fiona. rising.
corrine bailey rae. lost her man, but never lost her voice. respect.
maxwell. i love his voice but i'm usually too busy listening to all the instruments.
anthony hamilton. intense. he makes love to the track.
john mayer. politically incorrect.
robin thicke. fearless.
usher. grew up with every album.
ryan leslie. gibberish?
lyfe jennings. imprisoned. free. soul.
brandon hines. not there yet. but he should be.
honorable mentions to trey songz.
chris brown. music sometimes has nothing to do with morality.
ne-yo. multi-faceted artist.
justin timberlake. talent on two legs.
jamie foxx. on screen or in the studio. i like it.
lloyd. i loved one album. every song on that one album
hmm. i can feel hundreds of songs going through my head.
i have to say monica. i grew up with her sophomore album with 'street symphony,' first night' and 'angel of mine.'
lauryn hill. walking legend.
floetry. they make the ugliest things sound beautiful.
beyonce not the performer but the singer. the subtle songs. the ones they don't play on the radio.
adele has a special place in my heart.
and i will not forget amy winehouse. she gets under my skin in the best way.
alicia keys. she may not respect a relationship but she respects her craft.
chrisette michele and jazmine sullivan count as one for me because i haven't been following like a fan should.
honorable mentions to aaliyah. that last album was going places.
vivian green. sweet soul.
erykah badu. i have a lot of catching up to do.
sade. baby father was written for me. i'm convinced.
india arie. where did she go?
melanie fiona. rising.
corrine bailey rae. lost her man, but never lost her voice. respect.
maxwell. i love his voice but i'm usually too busy listening to all the instruments.
anthony hamilton. intense. he makes love to the track.
john mayer. politically incorrect.
robin thicke. fearless.
usher. grew up with every album.
ryan leslie. gibberish?
lyfe jennings. imprisoned. free. soul.
brandon hines. not there yet. but he should be.
honorable mentions to trey songz.
chris brown. music sometimes has nothing to do with morality.
ne-yo. multi-faceted artist.
justin timberlake. talent on two legs.
jamie foxx. on screen or in the studio. i like it.
lloyd. i loved one album. every song on that one album
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
music lives.
i'm strong. and that's not to sound arrogant or cocky. not in the least. it's just an attribute i was born with and it might make me die faster but i'm strong. as much as i like having that strength that could move mountains silently, there is a disadvantage. the disadvantage being that i can't understand weakness. i don't get the desire to give up. the coward behavior of walking away. it disgusts me. it irks me and it bothers me to the point that i want to do everything in my power to reverse it. but i have got to come to terms with the idea of being strong in silence. let fate do some of the work. and no matter who stays and who goes, 'insignificant? you are not.'
the dark ages
went through a time of discovery. raw emotion just kept pouring out of me. this raw, vulgar, rude and very descriptive accounts of good sex, love lost and renewed confidence. sometimes i revisit those times to ensure that i enjoy these times. i call this the dark ages.
committed to happiness, no titles necessary
stilettos and broken hearts
the rage kisses the delinquent on the forehead
it's in the parentheses (i mean it)
rhythm and blues: two words that describe me perfectly
apples and oranges
i feel myself heading back there...click to find out why.
committed to happiness, no titles necessary
stilettos and broken hearts
the rage kisses the delinquent on the forehead
it's in the parentheses (i mean it)
rhythm and blues: two words that describe me perfectly
apples and oranges
i feel myself heading back there...click to find out why.
finally. somebody said it.
“I imagine that being in a relationship is like learning to play the piano, or any
instrument for that matter. There is no sheet music for life. You hit a couple of
notes and sometimes you get lucky and they actually sound pretty good together.
But more often than not, you immediately forget everything that you just did,
and in searching for the same sequence of notes, you actually stumble upon a
completely different melody that is even better than the original. Such was the
case with Anna and Tyler. After having fallen in love and then being separated
for three years, it was a weekend in New York that taught them that sometimes,
just sometimes, the second verse is better than the first.” — Clayton Austin
it's very rare that i post something someone else wrote but this ...this right here...was so important that i had to. for someone who writes, we have to spend a lot of time listening. i hear you.
instrument for that matter. There is no sheet music for life. You hit a couple of
notes and sometimes you get lucky and they actually sound pretty good together.
But more often than not, you immediately forget everything that you just did,
and in searching for the same sequence of notes, you actually stumble upon a
completely different melody that is even better than the original. Such was the
case with Anna and Tyler. After having fallen in love and then being separated
for three years, it was a weekend in New York that taught them that sometimes,
just sometimes, the second verse is better than the first.” — Clayton Austin
it's very rare that i post something someone else wrote but this ...this right here...was so important that i had to. for someone who writes, we have to spend a lot of time listening. i hear you.
sister. sister.
i've never been the type of woman to say "i don't like girls.' that's partly due to the fact that i have met, known and loved some wonderful women. they are intelligent, kind, gracious, beautiful, motivated and worthy of all good things.
so every time i hear a girl say, "i don't f.ck with girls," in my head i think, "nope, women don't f.ck with you."
so every time i hear a girl say, "i don't f.ck with girls," in my head i think, "nope, women don't f.ck with you."
in those jeans
wave your panties in the air like you just don't care!
nah.
i'm joking.
what i meant to say was this.
there are some of us who walk around with our panties in our hands instead of hearts
flopping around our untouchables like they're not delicates
wondering who will take them for a spin.
i'm the type to just leave my panties at home altogether
that way you don't have to take them off
save us both the trouble
you see, when i walk out the door with those stilettos on, this hair pressed
and makeup so natural that even adam wants a bite
i know full well that you will not be getting these panties
nope, you don't get to lick the lace with a mouth full of lies
and you don't get to finger the silk with your dirty fingernails for your dirty deeds
you don't get to ring them out of my wetness for a dry performance
so i leave those panties at home where my heart is
knowing i'm gonna come back to him when i'm too tired to club but not exhausted for love
i leave those panties at home because i know my heart is in my vagina
and if it doesn't make sense that's because my anatomy is grey
so f.cking you will only end up f.cking me and before i know it
i'll end up pregnant with a seed for a tree i can't climb
i leave those panties at home because they were never on sale which is a reminder to every open wallet that i cannot be bought out of my fidelity, out of my monogamy, out of my 'this p.ssy's so good that the market dropped when they did'
i'm just saying, these panties have a name on it....and it ain't victoria.
nah.
i'm joking.
what i meant to say was this.
there are some of us who walk around with our panties in our hands instead of hearts
flopping around our untouchables like they're not delicates
wondering who will take them for a spin.
i'm the type to just leave my panties at home altogether
that way you don't have to take them off
save us both the trouble
you see, when i walk out the door with those stilettos on, this hair pressed
and makeup so natural that even adam wants a bite
i know full well that you will not be getting these panties
nope, you don't get to lick the lace with a mouth full of lies
and you don't get to finger the silk with your dirty fingernails for your dirty deeds
you don't get to ring them out of my wetness for a dry performance
so i leave those panties at home where my heart is
knowing i'm gonna come back to him when i'm too tired to club but not exhausted for love
i leave those panties at home because i know my heart is in my vagina
so f.cking you will only end up f.cking me and before i know it
i'll end up pregnant with a seed for a tree i can't climb
i leave those panties at home because they were never on sale which is a reminder to every open wallet that i cannot be bought out of my fidelity, out of my monogamy, out of my 'this p.ssy's so good that the market dropped when they did'
i'm just saying, these panties have a name on it....and it ain't victoria.
me? on the phone?
i clearly spend most of my limited phone use laughing instead of talking.
can't help it.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Corinne Bailey Rae - Like A Star (Live At St Luke's)
so i had to add this song. she lost her husband in the midst of making her sophomore album. and i guess every creative process has a moment of darkness when someone is trying to find the light. it's so ironic that in a loss, there is sometimes a gain. just like a star up in the sky, just like oil in my hands...
miller's crossing
look at all the angles, tass. look at all the angles. if you die tomorrow, are you sure that that you've inspired someone to think, to feel, to believe? have you managed to keep another human being intrigued despite your modest humanity? have you created something out of nothing? when people say they cannot understand me, is it because i am unclear or is it because they don't know the language i speak in? i try to simplify some things but most are too complicated to ever fit in a box that wasn't created for it.
doing the unthinkable
is trying something new great or is it that something can be so great that you try something new for it?
i've always been transparent.
"i applaud the transparency in which you write with. you put it all out there." -anonymous (ironically)
Interview 3.
after having a few conversations with the advisors i call friends, i've realized it is time to align myself with my actions and my emotions. things are a little off the rocker. you've probably noticed, it's ok if you didn't, my blog was headed in a different direction. it became more of what i see as opposed to what i feel. love had me more scrambled than an egg and i managed to pull myself back together. i even started another blog, which i hope to one day be my website that was created to be more conversational. a daily look into my life. it has all the little things that inspire me to update this blog. if Virgin Fingertips is the big picture then Living Proverb is the paint. feel free to click the link. shameless plug. anyway, i was coming into my own. i was starting to love my reflection again. and then an unusual stream of unnatural events occurred. as it usually does when you least expect it. and it lead me right back here. the need to answer some tough questions, close some doors, open some new ones and bare it all. i did it back in march with the posts appropriately titled Interview and Interview 2. so here goes.
It's been a while, what's changed for you?
From the last two interviews, I was definitely in a transitioning phase. Fresh out of a relationship, celibate, trying to really get a grasp on the new woman in the mirror. Now I'm in the part of my life where I'm doing things that I enjoy, writing, relaxing, looking for a job, spending time with people I care about - it's usually drama free. I changed my phone number just so I couldn't bring anything negative over with me. I left some negative things and people behind so my whole demeanor has changed. I'm not a wreck anymore. The healing process is over.
But the wounds remain?
As they always will. I think I've gotten accustomed to certain wounds and I try my best not to irritate them so most of the time, I don't even notice that they're there to begin with.
When do you notice?
Recently, there's been a lot of revisiting those wounds. It's really the cycle of life. Things come back full circle; unplanned things. It could be something as simple as a phone call or a random sighting. It's never expected but it happens and there's no way to prepare for it.
Has it hindered you?
Yes. Yes. Hmm. I've noticed that I'm very indifferent to things I was once very passionate about. I don't know how to fall in love yet. I can't even say that I'm trying but I want to. I want to feel that, I want to be enamored. I want that intense emotion, but I'm not there. But the fact that I want it to begin with is a huge step because I was so caught up in my last relationship that I couldn't even imagine entertaining anyone else. It was like tunnel vision. So I'm taking those baby steps and that's a huge change. In terms of hindering my process, I'm sure it's much slower this time around and it was already slow so just imagine how long this is gonna take me.
When you say 'revisit those wounds' what does that mean physically and emotionally?
Well physically, it's any interaction with the past that I decided to let go but it's proven to be only somewhat of a pause. Entertaining any part of my past, be it relationship wise or friendship wise is revisiting something that I told myself and the other person I was done with so in a sense, those wounds start to bleed again. And I start to question the decisions I've made and how accurate those decisions were alongside the emotions. Was it relevant? Was it appropriate? Was it something that I could actually live with? That second guessing is torment. It threatens everything that I've created since making that decision. Emotionally, I find myself replaying the whole scene in my mind over and over again, searching for something that may or may not even be there. It makes me disconnect from the present, which is completely unfair to those who I surround myself with. It sends me on a whirlwind of questioning, guilt, shame, fear...all emotions that can really pause my journey.
What have you been doing to get through that cycle of emotions?
I've been writing and I can't stop. My blog has taken a different turn all of a sudden. I'm back in those emotions and I can't see my way out of it just yet. I've been self analyzing. I've been critiquing. I've been searching long and hard for an answer that just hasn't come to me yet.
If we can get specific, what/who is your biggest concern?
Hmm. In terms of what my biggest concern is finding a job. I feel very stagnant and I feel like I'm not learning anything new. For someone who loves to learn, that's depressing. As far as who,exhales deeply, this is gonna piss a lot of people off I'm most concerned about myself. I bet you thought I was gonna say someone else. I feel very torn right now, very torn to the point where I feel like I can potentially hurt everyone that surrounds me. I thought when I left my last relationship that I was going to take nothing from it. I thought I left those emotions right where I found them. And today, I realize that I didn't leave any emotions anywhere, I just ignored them until I could find a suitable time to address them. Now by the strange events of the universe cries those emotions are infringing on my rights to move on wholeheartedly. I feel so ungrateful and I feel so, what's the word? I feel so lost. A big piece of me is somewhere else and the unknown of where that piece can go is taking a toll on me and this new road I've embarked on. It's a terrible thing when your happiness is linked to another human being. Because once they're gone, can you ever really be happy? And it seems so selfish to not be happy when you have a third party doing everything they can to get you there. And I'm not saying that I want to get back into the previous relationship, what I'm saying is that it's hard to be in a new one when I simply have not come to terms with what the last one has done. I'm just not over it. I've just been going through the motions but I haven't tackled the 'if he passed me in a supermarket, would I need him to notice me or could I just keep walking by?' I want to know that I can be in a relationship and not worry that anyone can make me second guess my happiness. And I'm not there yet.
What's the solution to this problem?
If I only knew. I thought about disconnecting from every relationship, past and present. But then people would get hurt. I thought about disconnecting from just the past but that would be a bold faced lie if I said that's what I want. I haven't come up with any solution that is fair to all parties involved and at the same time making me happy. Either way, it's going to be a major sacrifice and I'm losing. I've come to terms with that. I have lost. Damages pending.
Have you had this conversation with your past?
Yes and no. We've touched on it briefly but who ever wants to say, "damn I'm 24, I love you but I'm not ready to marry you even though I think you might be the best choice." I don't even know if that's flattering to hear and appropriate to say. Another reason, I don't think we've had the conversation yet is really because once you have it, there's no turning back. You have to make a decision. Be together or be apart and they're equally hard decisions. Not one of them is easy. And for real, for real, that conversation is crossing the line of platonic behavior which was decided upon months ago, prior to new people in both of our lives.
Can you be platonic?
Truthfully. Probably not. Platonic on the surface? Sure. Talk about movies, sports and the day to day. But if you can't get deep, how platonic are you? Can't tell me about the girl you're dating? Why not? Can't tell you about the guy I'm dating? Why not? Because you don't want to hear those things coming from someone you love or once loved in that romantic way. It's never easy. Not this soon out of it. So when it comes to being platonic, I think it has been an attempt. I think it's something we've practiced but it's very painfully obvious that we're not good at it. And when you decide to be friends, you realize throughout the course of that default friendship everything that made you take the chance of being more than friends in the first place. Those constant reminders of a love lost makes it very difficult to enjoy and abide by the rules of being platonic.
What's the last thing you said face to face to this person you're trying to be platonic with?
"I hate you. I wish you did things differently." And I meant it. So many things went wrong so fast, things that could have been worked through, things that didn't have to happen. Half of me hates him for putting me through that and I'm sure the feeling is mutual. I hate when things are broken that could easily be fixed. How the hell did you break it in the first place?
What's the other half of you feeling?
::bows head:: I love him and I feel so ashamed for it.
Ashamed? That's an emotion that goes along with guilt. Are you guilty?
Wouldn't you feel guilty if you convinced yourself you were done with something and the minute an opportunity arises, you realized you were never done? I feel like I lied to myself and to everyone that watched me go through it. I said I was done. I left. I ceased all contact. And then here I am, in the midst of unforeseen events and everything I said is exactly the opposite of what I feel. Ashamed is putting it lightly. Who wants to love someone who has hurt them? That's a blow to the ego of every person that helped put me back together again. I'm waiting for that moment of clarity that say it's ok to still love someone that took up so much of your life but I don't think I'll ever reach the point where loving someone new can ever involve loving someone old.
Does your current situation have anything to worry about?
Last week I would have said, no. Today, I'm not so sure. I can't guarantee how I'm going to feel tomorrow. Sh.t today I didn't know I was going to feel like this. I do know that I don't ever want to hurt anyone intentionally especially for anyone else. Every decision has to be made independently with only the person that it is directly affecting in mind.
If you could say anything to the person from your past that has you in this predicament, what would it be?
I tried to think of something, but I haven't figured out my opening line. I know that whatever I'll say, I want it to be a direct reflection of what I want from them or what I don't want. I don't want any confusion. Once I figure, what I would like the end result to be, I think my opening will come to me.
Till then?
Till then I am going to appreciate what I have, take only what I need and eliminate what I want.
That's pretty selfless, is that even conceivable?
I think it's about high time that I stop being selfish. I know that what I want is important but if I have everything I need, then why go searching through Pandora's Box? Every happiness is not going to be the same and every love is not going to have the same intensity. Different doesn't mean less than. That's what's conceivable.
It's been a while, what's changed for you?
From the last two interviews, I was definitely in a transitioning phase. Fresh out of a relationship, celibate, trying to really get a grasp on the new woman in the mirror. Now I'm in the part of my life where I'm doing things that I enjoy, writing, relaxing, looking for a job, spending time with people I care about - it's usually drama free. I changed my phone number just so I couldn't bring anything negative over with me. I left some negative things and people behind so my whole demeanor has changed. I'm not a wreck anymore. The healing process is over.
But the wounds remain?
As they always will. I think I've gotten accustomed to certain wounds and I try my best not to irritate them so most of the time, I don't even notice that they're there to begin with.
When do you notice?
Recently, there's been a lot of revisiting those wounds. It's really the cycle of life. Things come back full circle; unplanned things. It could be something as simple as a phone call or a random sighting. It's never expected but it happens and there's no way to prepare for it.
Has it hindered you?
Yes. Yes. Hmm. I've noticed that I'm very indifferent to things I was once very passionate about. I don't know how to fall in love yet. I can't even say that I'm trying but I want to. I want to feel that, I want to be enamored. I want that intense emotion, but I'm not there. But the fact that I want it to begin with is a huge step because I was so caught up in my last relationship that I couldn't even imagine entertaining anyone else. It was like tunnel vision. So I'm taking those baby steps and that's a huge change. In terms of hindering my process, I'm sure it's much slower this time around and it was already slow so just imagine how long this is gonna take me.
When you say 'revisit those wounds' what does that mean physically and emotionally?
Well physically, it's any interaction with the past that I decided to let go but it's proven to be only somewhat of a pause. Entertaining any part of my past, be it relationship wise or friendship wise is revisiting something that I told myself and the other person I was done with so in a sense, those wounds start to bleed again. And I start to question the decisions I've made and how accurate those decisions were alongside the emotions. Was it relevant? Was it appropriate? Was it something that I could actually live with? That second guessing is torment. It threatens everything that I've created since making that decision. Emotionally, I find myself replaying the whole scene in my mind over and over again, searching for something that may or may not even be there. It makes me disconnect from the present, which is completely unfair to those who I surround myself with. It sends me on a whirlwind of questioning, guilt, shame, fear...all emotions that can really pause my journey.
What have you been doing to get through that cycle of emotions?
I've been writing and I can't stop. My blog has taken a different turn all of a sudden. I'm back in those emotions and I can't see my way out of it just yet. I've been self analyzing. I've been critiquing. I've been searching long and hard for an answer that just hasn't come to me yet.
If we can get specific, what/who is your biggest concern?
Hmm. In terms of what my biggest concern is finding a job. I feel very stagnant and I feel like I'm not learning anything new. For someone who loves to learn, that's depressing. As far as who,
What's the solution to this problem?
If I only knew. I thought about disconnecting from every relationship, past and present. But then people would get hurt. I thought about disconnecting from just the past but that would be a bold faced lie if I said that's what I want. I haven't come up with any solution that is fair to all parties involved and at the same time making me happy. Either way, it's going to be a major sacrifice and I'm losing. I've come to terms with that. I have lost. Damages pending.
Have you had this conversation with your past?
Yes and no. We've touched on it briefly but who ever wants to say, "damn I'm 24, I love you but I'm not ready to marry you even though I think you might be the best choice." I don't even know if that's flattering to hear and appropriate to say. Another reason, I don't think we've had the conversation yet is really because once you have it, there's no turning back. You have to make a decision. Be together or be apart and they're equally hard decisions. Not one of them is easy. And for real, for real, that conversation is crossing the line of platonic behavior which was decided upon months ago, prior to new people in both of our lives.
Can you be platonic?
Truthfully. Probably not. Platonic on the surface? Sure. Talk about movies, sports and the day to day. But if you can't get deep, how platonic are you? Can't tell me about the girl you're dating? Why not? Can't tell you about the guy I'm dating? Why not? Because you don't want to hear those things coming from someone you love or once loved in that romantic way. It's never easy. Not this soon out of it. So when it comes to being platonic, I think it has been an attempt. I think it's something we've practiced but it's very painfully obvious that we're not good at it. And when you decide to be friends, you realize throughout the course of that default friendship everything that made you take the chance of being more than friends in the first place. Those constant reminders of a love lost makes it very difficult to enjoy and abide by the rules of being platonic.
What's the last thing you said face to face to this person you're trying to be platonic with?
"I hate you. I wish you did things differently." And I meant it. So many things went wrong so fast, things that could have been worked through, things that didn't have to happen. Half of me hates him for putting me through that and I'm sure the feeling is mutual. I hate when things are broken that could easily be fixed. How the hell did you break it in the first place?
What's the other half of you feeling?
::bows head:: I love him and I feel so ashamed for it.
Ashamed? That's an emotion that goes along with guilt. Are you guilty?
Wouldn't you feel guilty if you convinced yourself you were done with something and the minute an opportunity arises, you realized you were never done? I feel like I lied to myself and to everyone that watched me go through it. I said I was done. I left. I ceased all contact. And then here I am, in the midst of unforeseen events and everything I said is exactly the opposite of what I feel. Ashamed is putting it lightly. Who wants to love someone who has hurt them? That's a blow to the ego of every person that helped put me back together again. I'm waiting for that moment of clarity that say it's ok to still love someone that took up so much of your life but I don't think I'll ever reach the point where loving someone new can ever involve loving someone old.
Does your current situation have anything to worry about?
Last week I would have said, no. Today, I'm not so sure. I can't guarantee how I'm going to feel tomorrow. Sh.t today I didn't know I was going to feel like this. I do know that I don't ever want to hurt anyone intentionally especially for anyone else. Every decision has to be made independently with only the person that it is directly affecting in mind.
If you could say anything to the person from your past that has you in this predicament, what would it be?
I tried to think of something, but I haven't figured out my opening line. I know that whatever I'll say, I want it to be a direct reflection of what I want from them or what I don't want. I don't want any confusion. Once I figure, what I would like the end result to be, I think my opening will come to me.
Till then?
Till then I am going to appreciate what I have, take only what I need and eliminate what I want.
That's pretty selfless, is that even conceivable?
I think it's about high time that I stop being selfish. I know that what I want is important but if I have everything I need, then why go searching through Pandora's Box? Every happiness is not going to be the same and every love is not going to have the same intensity. Different doesn't mean less than. That's what's conceivable.
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