Saturday, December 29, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
beach, sand, waves and gulls... my soul is with you today!
Today's the sort of day I just might have skipped class for. and driven to the beach to frolic in shorts and a tank top with sand between my toes. in the end I might have eaten dinner at Sonny's Pizza and Pasta. and revelled in the palm lined sunset and the breaze off the bay. a thoroughly enjoyed day.
skipping work's not so easy. and there's no beach and no palms and no Sonny's in Colorado. I miss the beach.
not that i'm unhappy. it's good to have steady work. and things i love to go home to. it's just that this sunny, balmy december day has awakened the carefree spirit in me. and it find's little creative space in this green and tan office with dried flowers, children's drawings and a half burned out light for decoration.
ah yes, social work is social work is social work. and there's something funny to thinking I'm a professional now rather than a student. the free spirit who loves this work also loves to be free of from it.
it's distressing but there are great deal of undone things, stacks of paperwork, unheard messages, unmade calls and generally unmet needs demanding me from all corners of this office. i suppose i must sign out and attend to at least some of them!
beach, sand, waves, salsa, seaguls and pier... my soul is with you this day!!!
skipping work's not so easy. and there's no beach and no palms and no Sonny's in Colorado. I miss the beach.
not that i'm unhappy. it's good to have steady work. and things i love to go home to. it's just that this sunny, balmy december day has awakened the carefree spirit in me. and it find's little creative space in this green and tan office with dried flowers, children's drawings and a half burned out light for decoration.
ah yes, social work is social work is social work. and there's something funny to thinking I'm a professional now rather than a student. the free spirit who loves this work also loves to be free of from it.
it's distressing but there are great deal of undone things, stacks of paperwork, unheard messages, unmade calls and generally unmet needs demanding me from all corners of this office. i suppose i must sign out and attend to at least some of them!
beach, sand, waves, salsa, seaguls and pier... my soul is with you this day!!!
Sunday, December 2, 2007
are you real
are you a real person? are you?
do you breath?
are you there?
do you believe?
can someone hold your arm, touch your knee
whisper secrets in your ear?
is there a sacred intimacy with the one you love?
is there laughter in your heart?
sorrow or despair?
are you a real person? are you?
do you have a watch?
do you keep time?
rush from place to place?
busy with the business of life?
are you a real person? are you?
do you have a history?
people that you left?
and those who want you back?
those who did you wrong?
and those who made you strong?
do you sometimes pray to the god you know is not for real?
and sometimes curse the one you're certain must exist?
is there a future that you hope for?
and sometimes that you dread?
with people and yourself halfway there ahead?
is there purpose to your wandering?
is there meaning to your drift?
are you a real person? are you?
do you breath?
are you there?
do you believe?
can someone hold your arm, touch your knee
whisper secrets in your ear?
is there a sacred intimacy with the one you love?
is there laughter in your heart?
sorrow or despair?
are you a real person? are you?
do you have a watch?
do you keep time?
rush from place to place?
busy with the business of life?
are you a real person? are you?
do you have a history?
people that you left?
and those who want you back?
those who did you wrong?
and those who made you strong?
do you sometimes pray to the god you know is not for real?
and sometimes curse the one you're certain must exist?
is there a future that you hope for?
and sometimes that you dread?
with people and yourself halfway there ahead?
is there purpose to your wandering?
is there meaning to your drift?
are you a real person? are you?
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
i keep to myself
I keep to myself
I keep to myself because we live in a World where one in three women is molested,
assaulted or raped.
Where history has taught us that a woman who “sleeps around” is “soiled” and the
men who rise from her bed, it seems, leave the dirt there.
I keep to myself because we live in a World where “slut” is a slur and “pimp” an
accolade.
Where men “need what they need” and women “better put out”.
Where my body is measured by its sexual desirability and I by my body.
I keep to myself because we live in a World where the “eye of the beholder” is the naked
glare of lust in a spotlight I’m expected to enjoy
Where my pain is kept raw by the politically correct indifference of the masses,
men and women alike
Where no touch is sacred and the girl next door has a story like mine.
______________________________________________________________________________
i did write this on scratch paper in the car several weeks ago. but it made me sad.
I keep to myself because we live in a World where one in three women is molested,
assaulted or raped.
Where history has taught us that a woman who “sleeps around” is “soiled” and the
men who rise from her bed, it seems, leave the dirt there.
I keep to myself because we live in a World where “slut” is a slur and “pimp” an
accolade.
Where men “need what they need” and women “better put out”.
Where my body is measured by its sexual desirability and I by my body.
I keep to myself because we live in a World where the “eye of the beholder” is the naked
glare of lust in a spotlight I’m expected to enjoy
Where my pain is kept raw by the politically correct indifference of the masses,
men and women alike
Where no touch is sacred and the girl next door has a story like mine.
______________________________________________________________________________
i did write this on scratch paper in the car several weeks ago. but it made me sad.
Monday, October 15, 2007
the flowing out
The other night I drowned my phone in the toilet. My phone is my watch. And my alarm clock.
Every day almost I leave work at lunch, drive my car around the corner. Leave the radio on while I eat. And then take a nap. Today I came back 15 minutes early because I was afraid of being late. So now I have a couple of minutes I’m determined to keep and a computer with internet. I don’t have internet hooked up yet in my apartment.
I’ve been on a writing fast for apparently months now. I’ve been so busy. Busier than I’ve ever been in my life. Happier too. But also lonlier. The lonelieness isn’t from being alone. It’s from being single. Probably because I’ve been so close to my best friend and her husband. And so involved with social justice (finally!) and their church. And there’s work of course. I think all the closeness makes me want more.
Partly California is calling me. The flavor of the place in all its natural ugliness. That’s what I miss. But not to visit. Somehow I have no desire for that. I love the people there, in a broken way, but I’ve always been one to move on when I move on. the landscape is beautiful here, and the people bland. i traded one for the other i guess. that's in general. nothing personal. just the culture... people say things like "i'm a colorado native". which makes me laugh because there's nothing native about them... and the diversity that exists is well hidden and the white people aren't afraid of the black people here. they'll look you up and down and think they're better on their way by. subee and i were talking about that...
And school is calling me. Definitely. Two weeks into my new job I was in a meeting when I suddenly felt ready for the returning to school. I’ll always be a student at heart. So then maybe one year of work will do for now.
My soul has fed as the words poured out. My hands and heart have missed the feel of them flowing. I’ll not loose myself in business as long as I write. This has reminded me.
Every day almost I leave work at lunch, drive my car around the corner. Leave the radio on while I eat. And then take a nap. Today I came back 15 minutes early because I was afraid of being late. So now I have a couple of minutes I’m determined to keep and a computer with internet. I don’t have internet hooked up yet in my apartment.
I’ve been on a writing fast for apparently months now. I’ve been so busy. Busier than I’ve ever been in my life. Happier too. But also lonlier. The lonelieness isn’t from being alone. It’s from being single. Probably because I’ve been so close to my best friend and her husband. And so involved with social justice (finally!) and their church. And there’s work of course. I think all the closeness makes me want more.
Partly California is calling me. The flavor of the place in all its natural ugliness. That’s what I miss. But not to visit. Somehow I have no desire for that. I love the people there, in a broken way, but I’ve always been one to move on when I move on. the landscape is beautiful here, and the people bland. i traded one for the other i guess. that's in general. nothing personal. just the culture... people say things like "i'm a colorado native". which makes me laugh because there's nothing native about them... and the diversity that exists is well hidden and the white people aren't afraid of the black people here. they'll look you up and down and think they're better on their way by. subee and i were talking about that...
And school is calling me. Definitely. Two weeks into my new job I was in a meeting when I suddenly felt ready for the returning to school. I’ll always be a student at heart. So then maybe one year of work will do for now.
My soul has fed as the words poured out. My hands and heart have missed the feel of them flowing. I’ll not loose myself in business as long as I write. This has reminded me.
Friday, August 31, 2007
the plight
The thing about being a young professional is this. For where you are in life, you may be at the top of your game. But when you leave school you're no longer just competing with people in your league. It's a whole new world full of age and experience. You may know that you have unique skills and insight. But you also know, as do potential employers, that you are not seasoned; that you will make mistakes and require guidance. So now your task is that of convincing someone to take a risk on you; that you're worth the risk. And that my friends, is no easy task
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
leads and the storms in life
all my dreams are holding out in front of me
fading and winking
i sit by the window taking the storm in.
feeling the loss and the meaning of life. writing.
thunder slams down so loud it shakes the house and sets the fire alarm off.
shouts from downstairs. i flinch in awe. "kajee you okay?"
"yeah."
...
i have no more leads. the jobs I interviewed for said I don't have enough experience.
hell that's what I'm trying to get!
i'm scared. i'm living at my best friends house, with 80 dollars to my name. no job and no leads.
the infuriating thing is that I actually have a lot of experience for my age and where I am in life. so where does that leave me?
And my looks aren't helping at all. Someone asked me if I was in school the other day. I told them no, i had just graduated. They proceeded to ask if I was thinking about college. "Yeah. that's what I uh, just graduated from..."
perhaps the worst part is that mixed in with all my fear, frustration, uncertainty and desire about the future is guilt for the knowledge that in the way of life, I am among the luckiest.
college education
food to eat every day
a roof over my head every night
plenty of clothes
a phone
a car
shoes
a rich family of friends that love me
hope...
what if things aren't going my way? ...or are they?
the storm beats the question deeper and deeper into the vocal silence of the night.
fading and winking
i sit by the window taking the storm in.
feeling the loss and the meaning of life. writing.
thunder slams down so loud it shakes the house and sets the fire alarm off.
shouts from downstairs. i flinch in awe. "kajee you okay?"
"yeah."
...
i have no more leads. the jobs I interviewed for said I don't have enough experience.
hell that's what I'm trying to get!
i'm scared. i'm living at my best friends house, with 80 dollars to my name. no job and no leads.
the infuriating thing is that I actually have a lot of experience for my age and where I am in life. so where does that leave me?
And my looks aren't helping at all. Someone asked me if I was in school the other day. I told them no, i had just graduated. They proceeded to ask if I was thinking about college. "Yeah. that's what I uh, just graduated from..."
perhaps the worst part is that mixed in with all my fear, frustration, uncertainty and desire about the future is guilt for the knowledge that in the way of life, I am among the luckiest.
college education
food to eat every day
a roof over my head every night
plenty of clothes
a phone
a car
shoes
a rich family of friends that love me
hope...
what if things aren't going my way? ...or are they?
the storm beats the question deeper and deeper into the vocal silence of the night.
opportunities
sometimes opportunities are like lightening.
just as you raise your eyes to take it in, it's gone.
leaving in it's blinding wake only your throbbing desire not to have missed it.
as the thunder claps the beat of your misery
and rain mixes with sweat and tears until you can taste the salt of your longing.
just as you raise your eyes to take it in, it's gone.
leaving in it's blinding wake only your throbbing desire not to have missed it.
as the thunder claps the beat of your misery
and rain mixes with sweat and tears until you can taste the salt of your longing.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
from the journal of the unemployed one
a storm is raging outside.
we're in and i can't take my eyes off it.
lightning throwing cracks in the sky for a brilliant second.
we just got back soaking wet from our brief jaunt to the river.
stripped down at the door and ran for the warmth of hot showers.
now it's all calm and, in the stillness, only a flash through the rain bejeweled window let's me know the war is still on out there.
i've been drinking milk and reading old blogs while two things are slowly dawning on me.
1.) my writing will be good again when i get fully in to the next truly meaningful phase of my life. ie. get a meaningful job. start volunteering somewhere. get back into politics and my struggle toward activism...
and secondly, that life will pic up again. one way or another it will come. i'll make it happen or it'll fall on me when i'm not expecting... whether it's here, or back in socal or god forbid some unknown elsewhere, but it will happen. this listless, mildly empty due mostly to my own restlessnes, unemployed phase, will in fact pass. it's just a momentary lull. and for right now at least this confidence seeps in and fills me with enough satisfaction to last me into tomorrow, i hope. enough to carry me through another fruitless day of job searching. then again, who knows. maybe, just maybe tomorrow won't feel quite so fruitless.
we're in and i can't take my eyes off it.
lightning throwing cracks in the sky for a brilliant second.
we just got back soaking wet from our brief jaunt to the river.
stripped down at the door and ran for the warmth of hot showers.
now it's all calm and, in the stillness, only a flash through the rain bejeweled window let's me know the war is still on out there.
i've been drinking milk and reading old blogs while two things are slowly dawning on me.
1.) my writing will be good again when i get fully in to the next truly meaningful phase of my life. ie. get a meaningful job. start volunteering somewhere. get back into politics and my struggle toward activism...
and secondly, that life will pic up again. one way or another it will come. i'll make it happen or it'll fall on me when i'm not expecting... whether it's here, or back in socal or god forbid some unknown elsewhere, but it will happen. this listless, mildly empty due mostly to my own restlessnes, unemployed phase, will in fact pass. it's just a momentary lull. and for right now at least this confidence seeps in and fills me with enough satisfaction to last me into tomorrow, i hope. enough to carry me through another fruitless day of job searching. then again, who knows. maybe, just maybe tomorrow won't feel quite so fruitless.
15 seconds on a perfect day
15 seconds
mountainside sloping away
shades of green to blue sky.
mossy soft
cleft faces of rock.
settling heat hearded away by
sometimes breath of cool sky
setting leaves of poplar
to softly rustling dance.
folding shade resting beneath leaning tree.
new water song flows from mouth of bird
while butterfly's erotic glide
follows pattern of ground.
neon dragonfly lights on grass.
15 seconds pass
mountainside sloping away
shades of green to blue sky.
mossy soft
cleft faces of rock.
settling heat hearded away by
sometimes breath of cool sky
setting leaves of poplar
to softly rustling dance.
folding shade resting beneath leaning tree.
new water song flows from mouth of bird
while butterfly's erotic glide
follows pattern of ground.
neon dragonfly lights on grass.
15 seconds pass
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
are there so few people eaten up by injustice???
i miss our long conversations.
i don't want the empty life that everyone seems to be chasing, including me.
i'm a romantic stuck in a pessimist's body. mind. with my own brand of of-kilter idealistic realism. i know it doesn't work really, but you tell me... "what the fuck does!?" and i know that i'm good to encounter. if you're aching and you really need someone to see you through to you. i'll stand there. and i'll do it, every time, almost. so don't tell me i'm naive when you're using me. when you're letting me help hold you up. not that you recognize it. always. but the you's here have switched several times so the you i started out talking to would never do what the last you does. and that's why i miss you. and the way you throw a real arm around my idealistic side because you love me and you see the good it does. even if we can't, neither of us, quite believe in it. perhaps i belong back there with you. when i was so keen to leave. i've never met anyone like you. or maybe i just really need us to stay in touch...
i don't want the empty life that everyone seems to be chasing, including me.
i'm a romantic stuck in a pessimist's body. mind. with my own brand of of-kilter idealistic realism. i know it doesn't work really, but you tell me... "what the fuck does!?" and i know that i'm good to encounter. if you're aching and you really need someone to see you through to you. i'll stand there. and i'll do it, every time, almost. so don't tell me i'm naive when you're using me. when you're letting me help hold you up. not that you recognize it. always. but the you's here have switched several times so the you i started out talking to would never do what the last you does. and that's why i miss you. and the way you throw a real arm around my idealistic side because you love me and you see the good it does. even if we can't, neither of us, quite believe in it. perhaps i belong back there with you. when i was so keen to leave. i've never met anyone like you. or maybe i just really need us to stay in touch...
Friday, July 13, 2007
the other side
i know it's not your only name. i do.
i'm sorry when i think of you
in terms of only the evil
you have spilled into mo life.
i hate that. i do.
but i don't hate you. all the time...
if i could enter your life in any other way,
i'd lift you up, if i could. i would.
you're not only a rapist, a criminal, a violator.
you may also be a father, brother, friend.
you may be that too. it's true.
i'm sorry when i think of you
in terms of only the evil
you have spilled into mo life.
i hate that. i do.
but i don't hate you. all the time...
if i could enter your life in any other way,
i'd lift you up, if i could. i would.
you're not only a rapist, a criminal, a violator.
you may also be a father, brother, friend.
you may be that too. it's true.
rapist, child molester, evil
this emptiness
this loneliness
this longing to belong
i'll carry it to my grave
because of what you've done
this twisted pain
this self loathing,
this hollow memory
living acid to my soul
because of what you've done
fucking, shithead bastard!
i hope your dick falls off and shatters into a million pieces
like my security, identity and the life i should have had.
this loneliness
this longing to belong
i'll carry it to my grave
because of what you've done
this twisted pain
this self loathing,
this hollow memory
living acid to my soul
because of what you've done
fucking, shithead bastard!
i hope your dick falls off and shatters into a million pieces
like my security, identity and the life i should have had.
[this empty]
it's late. and i don't want to dwell on the things that make me sad. and not feel like i matter. why does my foster sister look at me and say jokingly, with a calus anger beneath it, "what have you done to my room?" b/c there's ants in it. even though i've explained to her that there's ants everyhere that dont' seem to be getting at anything in particular it's just that season i guess. and now i lie awake next to her, unable to sleep b/c she likes to sleep so still, and with the covers a certain way and i have to stay in the corner of the bed so i don't bump into her and make her mad. b/c the reality is, it's her bed, in her room, in her parents house. and i'm just an adition. and even though i love them for letting me stay here, for so long, when i had nowhere really to go. deep down inside i wish it could have been my room too. and doesn't she realize that's how i feel? and what does this have to do with being molested and thought of a piece of meat? and the empty, meaningless pain in my stomache? and wishing i was already away in colorado with my "sister" and "brother" b/c with them i am just family. i'll take a day to cry when i get there. and it suddenly seems so far away.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
I love what you have given me and everything you are
i love what you have given me and everything you are. i love how you love the fight and the game you play to make a difference in peoples' lives. i love asking what your words mean when i don't know. how you answer because you ca.re you're explanations are fabulous. you make me feel smarter for having asked. I love telling you how romantic melodies pull me away from reason into the folly i call lovely. and that you accept it because it's part of the way i am beautiful. i love that you see that, even as you return reason like a gift. i love that when i swear "well that's a cheap answer!" your chagrin clearly states "well that's what they say" and i know you don't believe it either. i love the way you challenge my half cooked theories like they're brilliant and show me why they don't work. i love that frankness never bother's you. that you'd hate me to feel the need to measure my words with you. i love never knowing what you're thinking until you say it. i love how you ask after a lengthy explanation, "does that make sense or am i bullshitting you?" i love the the freedom to say "you're bullshitting me" if i thought so, even though i never do. i love the passion you can't hold back when you get into your groove on a hot topic (ie social justice issue), almost daring me to disagree with you. but i just soak it in with a half smile and pools of quiet eyes. because i love that about you. i love that you watch me leave with so much care in your eyes that the warmth carries with me for days. i love your unspoken pride in me. i love what you have given me, and everything you are. you are an authentic life to me, or as close as anyone's ever going to get. you'll prove that over the years i bet. i hope we get that chance. time is so fickle you know. and place and destiny even worse...
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
two many midnights for a night
it's coming around to midnight again. at 2am.
and i feel it.
as though i knew what life should be, tomorrow. and the day after.
as though i knew what the right decisions would be.
but sometimes you just have to take one.
and live it.
and then see that it was somehow right.
or not.
but i still say
it depends at least as much on how you do the decisions you make as the making itself.
today i made plans, and laid plans and hoped they were right.
and tried to still the whirring in my head about the future.
but it all came to nothing as midnight came to midnight and still midnight yet again. at two am.
and i feel it.
as though i knew what life should be, tomorrow. and the day after.
as though i knew what the right decisions would be.
but sometimes you just have to take one.
and live it.
and then see that it was somehow right.
or not.
but i still say
it depends at least as much on how you do the decisions you make as the making itself.
today i made plans, and laid plans and hoped they were right.
and tried to still the whirring in my head about the future.
but it all came to nothing as midnight came to midnight and still midnight yet again. at two am.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
will there come a day
is there anything to be said for the 'i don't knows'
for the you's and me's and the lonely foes
standing on either side of the gun
and the paradigm
each with thier own mixed up lies
living only if the other dies?
if even one is evil ... is there any of us good?
if only one is good ...is there any good to it?
if i never know the definition or the meaning of life
am i still fulfilling it?
will there be a time in the future when they say i took them a step closer
or a step farther away?
if i tune in to one child, will the world be better for it?
or will they just be better for a badly broken world?
will there come a day
when i will once more say
there is more ?
for the you's and me's and the lonely foes
standing on either side of the gun
and the paradigm
each with thier own mixed up lies
living only if the other dies?
if even one is evil ... is there any of us good?
if only one is good ...is there any good to it?
if i never know the definition or the meaning of life
am i still fulfilling it?
will there be a time in the future when they say i took them a step closer
or a step farther away?
if i tune in to one child, will the world be better for it?
or will they just be better for a badly broken world?
will there come a day
when i will once more say
there is more ?
harmony and the meaning of being ...again.
tonight i've sat under the stars and watched my friend juggle and ride tricks on his unicycle.
and seen my friends in skits that made me laugh so hard i thought i was going to fall off my seat.
and i saw people i don't know down below throwing glow sticks into the air coming out like so real fireworks.
and words competed with memories and experiences as "proud to be an american" blasted over the loud speakers and i had to ask myself, "what again is the purpose of life?" and "can i live in this country?" and "IS there a god?".
yesterday i was taken away by a poorly acted summer camp play that had two waring sides to lay down their weapons. and unexpected tears leapt into my eyes as my soul cried out "OH, BUT THAT'S WHAT I WANT!!!" in real life.
and seen my friends in skits that made me laugh so hard i thought i was going to fall off my seat.
and i saw people i don't know down below throwing glow sticks into the air coming out like so real fireworks.
and words competed with memories and experiences as "proud to be an american" blasted over the loud speakers and i had to ask myself, "what again is the purpose of life?" and "can i live in this country?" and "IS there a god?".
yesterday i was taken away by a poorly acted summer camp play that had two waring sides to lay down their weapons. and unexpected tears leapt into my eyes as my soul cried out "OH, BUT THAT'S WHAT I WANT!!!" in real life.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
on keeping friendships
"he'll write", i tell myself.
but what if i was wrong? what if i misunderstood? what if i don't have a right? what if i'm... pathetic?
i wish i didn't care as much. wish i wasn't so damn sensitive. wish i didn't love him.
wish i didn't wish he lived next door and I had endless hours to spend just being around him.
wish i could close the curtain on my soul. wish i never made mistakes.
i called my sista.
sue: "hello?"
me: "he has a girlfriend."
sue: "What! ...why didn't he tell you?"
me: "i don't know."
sue: "hey jo, .....has a girlfriend"
jo: "Fuck! it's probably some damn white girl!"
sue: "hahahaha, jo, kajee's white."
jo: ... something uninteligable...
sue: "i know you didn't mean that, it's a compliment, it means you don't think of her as white"
sue: (to me, again) "i'm sorry kajee, that sucks. how did he tell you?"
me: "he just slipped it in the conversation like '...this girl i'm dating, her dad's...; and then continuing with the conversation. to be honest i kind of lost him for a second in the shock. i was like, 'god i hope he can't read the dissapointment in my eyes'".
sue: "damn! well, maybe they're just dating and he doesn't consider her his girlfriend".
me: "maybe. doesn't matter though, i'm still going to have to get over it, i can't hope forever and i still want him for a friend."
sue: "you sure do, you can't just wait for him to change his mind. does he know who we are? you haven't shown him pictures have you?"
me: "yeah, well just one of you guys. of course i did."
sue: "damn it!"
me: "why, what were you going to do?"
sue: "nothing, i was just going to say, too bad for him, guess he'll never get to know us."
me: "you have such a big head. okay, well i better go, i know you aint got no minutes left. tell jo, i said 'thanks for cussing him out, it made me feel better, anyways.'" [even though i don't think he deserved it]
sue: "i will. I'm sorry kajee, i love you! we're giving you hugs k!"
me: "thanks, i love you too. bye"
sue: "bye, kajee"
"well, either he will or he won't" i tell myself. and somehow stating the obvious like it bodes some secret blessing makes me feel just a little bit better.
but what if i was wrong? what if i misunderstood? what if i don't have a right? what if i'm... pathetic?
i wish i didn't care as much. wish i wasn't so damn sensitive. wish i didn't love him.
wish i didn't wish he lived next door and I had endless hours to spend just being around him.
wish i could close the curtain on my soul. wish i never made mistakes.
i called my sista.
sue: "hello?"
me: "he has a girlfriend."
sue: "What! ...why didn't he tell you?"
me: "i don't know."
sue: "hey jo, .....has a girlfriend"
jo: "Fuck! it's probably some damn white girl!"
sue: "hahahaha, jo, kajee's white."
jo: ... something uninteligable...
sue: "i know you didn't mean that, it's a compliment, it means you don't think of her as white"
sue: (to me, again) "i'm sorry kajee, that sucks. how did he tell you?"
me: "he just slipped it in the conversation like '...this girl i'm dating, her dad's...; and then continuing with the conversation. to be honest i kind of lost him for a second in the shock. i was like, 'god i hope he can't read the dissapointment in my eyes'".
sue: "damn! well, maybe they're just dating and he doesn't consider her his girlfriend".
me: "maybe. doesn't matter though, i'm still going to have to get over it, i can't hope forever and i still want him for a friend."
sue: "you sure do, you can't just wait for him to change his mind. does he know who we are? you haven't shown him pictures have you?"
me: "yeah, well just one of you guys. of course i did."
sue: "damn it!"
me: "why, what were you going to do?"
sue: "nothing, i was just going to say, too bad for him, guess he'll never get to know us."
me: "you have such a big head. okay, well i better go, i know you aint got no minutes left. tell jo, i said 'thanks for cussing him out, it made me feel better, anyways.'" [even though i don't think he deserved it]
sue: "i will. I'm sorry kajee, i love you! we're giving you hugs k!"
me: "thanks, i love you too. bye"
sue: "bye, kajee"
"well, either he will or he won't" i tell myself. and somehow stating the obvious like it bodes some secret blessing makes me feel just a little bit better.
drifter
i'm back home in a house i've never been before.
because there's family here that's like family, even if it's not mine.
and they know how to just let you in and be one of them. that's rare.
all the things, i recognize and the dog knew me. because i used to live with them. and many times still be with them. and sometimes forget that i can be. this is for the homeless ones to understand. who float from life to life and weave in and out of the stories of others trying to find thier own.
i wonder. are we allowed to forget how we have been loved just because we remember how we haven't been? because i do, sometimes. and when i remember it makes me happy sad. melancholy. drifter that i am.
because there's family here that's like family, even if it's not mine.
and they know how to just let you in and be one of them. that's rare.
all the things, i recognize and the dog knew me. because i used to live with them. and many times still be with them. and sometimes forget that i can be. this is for the homeless ones to understand. who float from life to life and weave in and out of the stories of others trying to find thier own.
i wonder. are we allowed to forget how we have been loved just because we remember how we haven't been? because i do, sometimes. and when i remember it makes me happy sad. melancholy. drifter that i am.
Monday, June 11, 2007
7th generation white trash
i'm fuckin angry! and for no god damn reason!
that's not true. the truth is i'm being lazy.
and when i'm lazy i get frustrated.
and when i'm frustrated for being lazy but don't want to stop...
i get pissed.
and then i say dumn things like...
"I'm fuckin angry! and for no god damn reason!"
and then i cackle because i guess that's funny when you're pissed for being frustrated for not wanting to stop being lazy even though it's making you mad enough to scream random obscenities at the air like "I'm fuckin..." ... yeah.
but then i guess it runs in the family because i'm currently listening to my brother screaching in my ear because he can't buy some piece of junk dual sport. and then when i couldn't take it anymore i said "o my god, you're freakin pissing me off!! weirdo!"
and then he said "uh... i need to play diablo."
and i said "noooo!!! no you don't!"
and then he started groaning.
and then i said "oh my god fine! go play freakin diablo!"
and then all he said "okay" with no hesitation.
and then i said "uh?!"
and he said "oooohh..." in a disapointed whine.
so i said "whatever".
and he said "k bye".
any questions now why "little miss sunshine" is my all time favorite movie?!?
my best friend says listening to me and my brother talk is like a highly amusing headache. actually that's not what she says. but that's what she would have said if she'd thought to say it that way...
that's not true. the truth is i'm being lazy.
and when i'm lazy i get frustrated.
and when i'm frustrated for being lazy but don't want to stop...
i get pissed.
and then i say dumn things like...
"I'm fuckin angry! and for no god damn reason!"
and then i cackle because i guess that's funny when you're pissed for being frustrated for not wanting to stop being lazy even though it's making you mad enough to scream random obscenities at the air like "I'm fuckin..." ... yeah.
but then i guess it runs in the family because i'm currently listening to my brother screaching in my ear because he can't buy some piece of junk dual sport. and then when i couldn't take it anymore i said "o my god, you're freakin pissing me off!! weirdo!"
and then he said "uh... i need to play diablo."
and i said "noooo!!! no you don't!"
and then he started groaning.
and then i said "oh my god fine! go play freakin diablo!"
and then all he said "okay" with no hesitation.
and then i said "uh?!"
and he said "oooohh..." in a disapointed whine.
so i said "whatever".
and he said "k bye".
any questions now why "little miss sunshine" is my all time favorite movie?!?
my best friend says listening to me and my brother talk is like a highly amusing headache. actually that's not what she says. but that's what she would have said if she'd thought to say it that way...
Friday, June 8, 2007
would you?
if i said to you
"sometimes i'm empty"
would you get it?
if i told you
"she eats ice all day and pours the melted water on the carpet"
would you realize the funny-ness?
if i wrote a poem for you
and said it wasn't me
would you know?
if i said
"that person's my friend" but couldn't remember their name
would you believe me?
if you saw me laughing with my sister
about the night i cussed her out on accident
would you laugh with us?
if i said
"men are fucking bastards and i hate them all!"
would you know that i still loved you?
if i listened to you
with all the intensity that i love you with
would you notice?
"sometimes i'm empty"
would you get it?
if i told you
"she eats ice all day and pours the melted water on the carpet"
would you realize the funny-ness?
if i wrote a poem for you
and said it wasn't me
would you know?
if i said
"that person's my friend" but couldn't remember their name
would you believe me?
if you saw me laughing with my sister
about the night i cussed her out on accident
would you laugh with us?
if i said
"men are fucking bastards and i hate them all!"
would you know that i still loved you?
if i listened to you
with all the intensity that i love you with
would you notice?
Monday, June 4, 2007
8 year old
you are my mexican smile
& i'm gonna miss your bright brown eyes
and your winning ways.
...how you love winning!
& playing the adult ...and shifting while i drive.
you are my independent soul
letting your shakes melt into drinks
& sharing my fettish for stickers.
I'm gonna miss how you love your own brilliance
and saying thank you.
you are my proud tomorrow's leader
i'm gonna miss you expecting me on mondays
and the laughter that carries itself through all your moods.
how you take a risk and then get shy, but try again.
i hope you always soar!
& i'm gonna miss your bright brown eyes
and your winning ways.
...how you love winning!
& playing the adult ...and shifting while i drive.
you are my independent soul
letting your shakes melt into drinks
& sharing my fettish for stickers.
I'm gonna miss how you love your own brilliance
and saying thank you.
you are my proud tomorrow's leader
i'm gonna miss you expecting me on mondays
and the laughter that carries itself through all your moods.
how you take a risk and then get shy, but try again.
i hope you always soar!
Sunday, June 3, 2007
i say Bri
i'm sorry Bri
i'm sorry for the hurt that breaks your heart.
i'd take it from you if i could.
i'd give you a home in my heart
where i'd let you crawl in and dance
freely to who you are.
to see you blosssom in the safety
even as you have in adversity.
i'm sorry Bri.
that i can't mend your bleeding dreams.
my hands flutter uselessly
as you stand strong anyway
while the miracle of you takes a beating
with no shelter from the storm.
I say Bri
that you'll take it into your own hands
so full of the power to overcome.
and the place i couldn't offer now
i'll one day offer in your name
because i've seen you
and remembered how you were in your pain
i'm sorry for the hurt that breaks your heart.
i'd take it from you if i could.
i'd give you a home in my heart
where i'd let you crawl in and dance
freely to who you are.
to see you blosssom in the safety
even as you have in adversity.
i'm sorry Bri.
that i can't mend your bleeding dreams.
my hands flutter uselessly
as you stand strong anyway
while the miracle of you takes a beating
with no shelter from the storm.
I say Bri
that you'll take it into your own hands
so full of the power to overcome.
and the place i couldn't offer now
i'll one day offer in your name
because i've seen you
and remembered how you were in your pain
time.and memory
4:07 pm. chai tea in the airport. it burns my tongue. so this is boise and i'm tired. I've been reminded what my life was like 4 years ago, been there for a friend and been told i was almost adopted, or something. I wan to slow dance.
"you almost had our name," he said.
inside "tell me more" is whispered as i wonder what he meant.
telephone numbers and "keep in touches" flow from memories of changing love. life is like this ring: just too tight on one finger, just too loose on the next. No one can quite manage to live it, nad no one quite wants to lose it. I want the life i have today.
but yesterday i longed for what you just offered me.
do i look different? I am.
"you look so confident," they say. and i was shaking when i saw them after so many years. shaking and confident.
and happy, despite it all. that's what reuniting does to you. my chai is cooling as i reminisce. Then it's time to board. 4:26 pm.
____________________________________________________________________________________
inside the hot drink seemd like a good idea. now as i step outside i think the air might be warmer. i saunter to the plane and think about how much my parking will cost back in ontario. i smile at the people as i excuse my way down the narrow aisle. My life is odd. but excruciatingly beautiful. i think of all the people who will be coming to my graduation. who don't know each other. who will meet. i think i will like introducing them. for a change.
"you almost had our name," he said.
inside "tell me more" is whispered as i wonder what he meant.
telephone numbers and "keep in touches" flow from memories of changing love. life is like this ring: just too tight on one finger, just too loose on the next. No one can quite manage to live it, nad no one quite wants to lose it. I want the life i have today.
but yesterday i longed for what you just offered me.
do i look different? I am.
"you look so confident," they say. and i was shaking when i saw them after so many years. shaking and confident.
and happy, despite it all. that's what reuniting does to you. my chai is cooling as i reminisce. Then it's time to board. 4:26 pm.
____________________________________________________________________________________
inside the hot drink seemd like a good idea. now as i step outside i think the air might be warmer. i saunter to the plane and think about how much my parking will cost back in ontario. i smile at the people as i excuse my way down the narrow aisle. My life is odd. but excruciatingly beautiful. i think of all the people who will be coming to my graduation. who don't know each other. who will meet. i think i will like introducing them. for a change.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
hoy es miercoles
i think i might have used up all my words. but they're lonely none-the-less. and i'm lonlier still. as i am surrounded by my friends. but there's a purpose for me, out there somewhere. if i can just get my mind down close enough for today's tasks. maybe i'll find it. that's possibly a possibility, right?
sometimes i come back and read what i've written and i think i'm a bloody genious! other times i think "god, i hope nobody's read that yet" and delete it. like the last post. but i haven't deleted it yet, because it's bad, but has potential. don't you think? do you feel that too?!
god, i'm all over the place! good night.
sometimes i come back and read what i've written and i think i'm a bloody genious! other times i think "god, i hope nobody's read that yet" and delete it. like the last post. but i haven't deleted it yet, because it's bad, but has potential. don't you think? do you feel that too?!
god, i'm all over the place! good night.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
this land
at friends.
at home.
i was walking outside in the sun.
danish soul soaking it in.
through the skin. like breathing.
inhaling deep aroma
of grass so thick and sweet.
smelling like a rich ripe plum.
walking through grass
so thick and high
it reaches my thigh
and scrapes at the holes in my jeans.
trodding feet on the dirt beneath
to the bark of the scolding dog.
prairie dog chirping.
warning chirping to keep me away.
symbol of intruding man.
bound and determined, it seems
to destroy this land.
at home.
i was walking outside in the sun.
danish soul soaking it in.
through the skin. like breathing.
inhaling deep aroma
of grass so thick and sweet.
smelling like a rich ripe plum.
walking through grass
so thick and high
it reaches my thigh
and scrapes at the holes in my jeans.
trodding feet on the dirt beneath
to the bark of the scolding dog.
prairie dog chirping.
warning chirping to keep me away.
symbol of intruding man.
bound and determined, it seems
to destroy this land.
Friday, May 25, 2007
misfit
i came in last night with two bags over my shoulder.
two wife beaters on and jeans with two gaping wholes in each knee.
a blue camaflage bandana over messy short hair and a rusting hoop dangling from each ear.
i came home last night with laceless shoes splitting open at the seems
and no gum because i'm trying to save my teeth.
i came home last night tilted sideways because of the bags
and the car keys falling from left hand fingers.
i came home last night through the garage
slamming the dust covered door of my toy and textbook filled car.
i came home last night into a dimly lit house
where people were watching tv upstiars.
and i thought, rather felt as i climed those stairs,
quiet-immaculate-nice atmosphere,
how strange it was for me to belong
and belong in a place like this.
two wife beaters on and jeans with two gaping wholes in each knee.
a blue camaflage bandana over messy short hair and a rusting hoop dangling from each ear.
i came home last night with laceless shoes splitting open at the seems
and no gum because i'm trying to save my teeth.
i came home last night tilted sideways because of the bags
and the car keys falling from left hand fingers.
i came home last night through the garage
slamming the dust covered door of my toy and textbook filled car.
i came home last night into a dimly lit house
where people were watching tv upstiars.
and i thought, rather felt as i climed those stairs,
quiet-immaculate-nice atmosphere,
how strange it was for me to belong
and belong in a place like this.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
the best life
there was a question i had been pondering in my own thinking. and it came to me, out of the blue, as we sat talking in his lamplit office. we had been discussing the meaning of life and the god construct which he believes there may be something beyond, although you can only discuss it in terms of construction... there was a stretching momentary lull in the animated flow of dialogue as we each stared past each other at the book lined walls. suddenly i leaned forward and asked "do you believe we have a right to live the best life we can even though other people can't have it?"
"no!" he said with a surprisingly emphatic and immediate certainty. and after a moment continued... "because that's not the best life we can have."
"no!" he said with a surprisingly emphatic and immediate certainty. and after a moment continued... "because that's not the best life we can have."
maybe family
maybe
family
are just
those people
you scream and cuss at
when you're mad.
and still
go back to
when
you're not,
anymore.
maybe
they're
the only people
you can truly
both
love
and hate.
maybe family
are
those people
you always ask
stuff from
when you want it
and never when
you need it.
maybe
family
is
what makes
you who you are
and
everything
you try and keep
from being.
maybe family
is
the background
against which you are defined.
and
you
are just
the
space
carved between
thier
identities.
family
are just
those people
you scream and cuss at
when you're mad.
and still
go back to
when
you're not,
anymore.
maybe
they're
the only people
you can truly
both
love
and hate.
maybe family
are
those people
you always ask
stuff from
when you want it
and never when
you need it.
maybe
family
is
what makes
you who you are
and
everything
you try and keep
from being.
maybe family
is
the background
against which you are defined.
and
you
are just
the
space
carved between
thier
identities.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Little bird
Little bird you saw eagles
and told lies you believed &
had too much power
and not enough care
Little bird you saw eagles
and loved smoothies &
took pictures
and told me not to smile
Little bird you saw evil
and we said we'd protect you &
sent you back
with trash bags
and lies we wished we could believe in
__________________________________________________________
i wrote little bird to commemorate a young life who slipped herself through our office (an FFA) and through the courts hands, and worst of all, through my hands. i wrote it, because when she asked me if i could still come and visit her after leaving her with her mother, i said "no sweetie, i'm sure you'll be having so much fun with your mom, that will be better than me visiting." and i wrote it because i'll never lie to a child again. i wrote it because the guilt of the pain of her young life rests on my shoulders and yours.
and told lies you believed &
had too much power
and not enough care
Little bird you saw eagles
and loved smoothies &
took pictures
and told me not to smile
Little bird you saw evil
and we said we'd protect you &
sent you back
with trash bags
and lies we wished we could believe in
__________________________________________________________
i wrote little bird to commemorate a young life who slipped herself through our office (an FFA) and through the courts hands, and worst of all, through my hands. i wrote it, because when she asked me if i could still come and visit her after leaving her with her mother, i said "no sweetie, i'm sure you'll be having so much fun with your mom, that will be better than me visiting." and i wrote it because i'll never lie to a child again. i wrote it because the guilt of the pain of her young life rests on my shoulders and yours.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
if it had a name...
you made me smile and laugh.
and then i heard news of the war in iraq.
and the women being raped in the army.
and the children being born to thier mother's in prison.
and i wanted more than my good life, again.
i wanted that DAMN war to end!
and then i heard news of the war in iraq.
and the women being raped in the army.
and the children being born to thier mother's in prison.
and i wanted more than my good life, again.
i wanted that DAMN war to end!
Monday, May 21, 2007
my body is me
my body fascinates me.
i am tall and taughtly relaxed like a bow when it's strung
but not pulled back.
all my curves are long and drawn out
like an S stretched from both ends.
i am like a panther. strong and sleek.
but sometimes i feel like a kitten. perhaps like a wild cat
that looks soft and cuddly but you better not mess with it.
sometimes i have a soft side but it's mostly inside
and i can turn it away from you in the cold shoulder instant.
for a manner or a whim. but if i love you i'll turn it back in a minute.
indiference is just one of my moods.
i like it when my body works together for one thing
with my mind.
when it all commits to one goal.
strives for one cause.
sometimes it's fragmented
like floating limbs and loosley strung parts
sloppily thrown together.
see the thing is someone put a drill to me and wouldn't stop hammering
and all that pressure finally busted me up
there's something else though.
about the strong part.
it's that string that sinewy muscle cord
with a mind like fire and a deep deep heart
it just never let go of all the pieces
that's my soul waiting for someone like you:someone like me
to bring it back together.
that sleek, panther, bowstring S
my body.
i am tall and taughtly relaxed like a bow when it's strung
but not pulled back.
all my curves are long and drawn out
like an S stretched from both ends.
i am like a panther. strong and sleek.
but sometimes i feel like a kitten. perhaps like a wild cat
that looks soft and cuddly but you better not mess with it.
sometimes i have a soft side but it's mostly inside
and i can turn it away from you in the cold shoulder instant.
for a manner or a whim. but if i love you i'll turn it back in a minute.
indiference is just one of my moods.
i like it when my body works together for one thing
with my mind.
when it all commits to one goal.
strives for one cause.
sometimes it's fragmented
like floating limbs and loosley strung parts
sloppily thrown together.
see the thing is someone put a drill to me and wouldn't stop hammering
and all that pressure finally busted me up
there's something else though.
about the strong part.
it's that string that sinewy muscle cord
with a mind like fire and a deep deep heart
it just never let go of all the pieces
that's my soul waiting for someone like you:someone like me
to bring it back together.
that sleek, panther, bowstring S
my body.
Somebody
"I. I. I say I am. I say I am somebody.
Somebody because--because you--you make me--somebody,
Because--because you are part of
Because you--you share the--the Somebodiness of me.
"When you laugh, you make my lips a part of laughter.
When you cry, tension pulls me from inside.
When you are hungry, my food turns to poison, makes me burst
Bony fingers clutch my toungue when I--when I know your thirst
Because you are part of--because you--you share the
The Somebodiness of me.
"When I see your precious blood out of place, your bones exposed in death--
My blood chills and stops as I try to--try to--give you breath.
I must keep you from all--all fear and danger--
I must woo your peace of mind--
Help you--help you find joy--
Help you--help you find release
Because you are part of--because you--you share the
the Somebodiness of me.
"I cannot own that which you cannot also possess.
Your crime is mine, and from now on I'll confess
Because you are part of--because you share the
the Somebodiness of me.
"You--you--you are at the other end of the steel spring of hate,
So I cannot hate.
When you know my love--my love will warm you--
Cleansing, deep
So, let me--let me take your hand. Let me touch your fingers,
Feel your face. Know your heartbeat and all--all your doubts erase
Because you are part of--because you--you share the
the Somebodiness of me."
--Ruby Dee
Somebody because--because you--you make me--somebody,
Because--because you are part of
Because you--you share the--the Somebodiness of me.
"When you laugh, you make my lips a part of laughter.
When you cry, tension pulls me from inside.
When you are hungry, my food turns to poison, makes me burst
Bony fingers clutch my toungue when I--when I know your thirst
Because you are part of--because you--you share the
The Somebodiness of me.
"When I see your precious blood out of place, your bones exposed in death--
My blood chills and stops as I try to--try to--give you breath.
I must keep you from all--all fear and danger--
I must woo your peace of mind--
Help you--help you find joy--
Help you--help you find release
Because you are part of--because you--you share the
the Somebodiness of me.
"I cannot own that which you cannot also possess.
Your crime is mine, and from now on I'll confess
Because you are part of--because you share the
the Somebodiness of me.
"You--you--you are at the other end of the steel spring of hate,
So I cannot hate.
When you know my love--my love will warm you--
Cleansing, deep
So, let me--let me take your hand. Let me touch your fingers,
Feel your face. Know your heartbeat and all--all your doubts erase
Because you are part of--because you--you share the
the Somebodiness of me."
--Ruby Dee
Sunday, May 20, 2007
castles in the sky
i'm building castles in the sky again.
and i know it, but i can't stop.
i want to.
and i want them to settle slowly down to earth.
in fact what i really want is my future to settle.
i want to know the best decisions.
i want to have a plan and have peace about it.
i want what everyone wants and i want it handed to me on a silver platter.
that sounds about right. doesn't it?
do i try and reconect with my family?
or do i slip into subee's?
do i stay here where the possibilities are endless
or do i try to ferret out and snatch the one way to get my education payed for in colorado?
do i take the job jill's practically offered me and soon start grad school
or do i look for a less professional one where i'll have family around the corner?
life is so complicated. and i do feel alone. i want to walk away into a rosy sunset but barring that possibility i don't know what my next best preference is... i just don't know what i want and need.
except for my castles in the sky.
and i know it, but i can't stop.
i want to.
and i want them to settle slowly down to earth.
in fact what i really want is my future to settle.
i want to know the best decisions.
i want to have a plan and have peace about it.
i want what everyone wants and i want it handed to me on a silver platter.
that sounds about right. doesn't it?
do i try and reconect with my family?
or do i slip into subee's?
do i stay here where the possibilities are endless
or do i try to ferret out and snatch the one way to get my education payed for in colorado?
do i take the job jill's practically offered me and soon start grad school
or do i look for a less professional one where i'll have family around the corner?
life is so complicated. and i do feel alone. i want to walk away into a rosy sunset but barring that possibility i don't know what my next best preference is... i just don't know what i want and need.
except for my castles in the sky.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
what it means to know
there's this girl i've seen on campus she's beautiful in a strikingly different way. and every time i see her (there have been like 3 times so far...) i feel drawn to her, more like how... it's like an intrique. but i don't know if it's just that i want to get to know her because i find her fascinating or if i'm attracted to her. or both.
i was having a conversation with someone a bit ago. he said the had recently had someone sitting in his office telling him that her father had never told her she was beautiful. he said "can you imagine living like that? never hearing that?!" i just looked at him. i couldn't say anything because i wasn't quite sure how to phrase it. as uh, "uuuummmm, yes" or "yeah, i can"/ "duh"/"of course" or "i don't have to imagine it..." or "seriously. are you seriously asking me this?"
just about when i was settling on "uh really, bob, can you imagine my father actually telling me i was beautiful? with what you know about him...?" he seemed to catch on to the silence or the stunned look i can imagine was on my face, or both. and said "oh no... you're not one of them are you?! I'm sooo sorry. i think it's a tragedy..."
i actually feel kind of bad for him, because he probably feels bad about it, or at least will if he reads this. if you are, please don't feel bad, the reality causes the pain, not those who stumble on it. but i just wanted to put it out there. because it made me cry. not then, now. at the time i just felt a twinge but shrugged it off because i was thinking, "no, that's not my issue, i'm not going to take it on now. if my relationship with my father was one step better i might be sad about it. as it is we have bigger bridges to cross than wanting him to tell me he loves me. as it is, i just kind of want him gone."
anyways, the rest of the conversation was fabulous. i enjoy talking with bob. he's silly. but deep.
just for the record, his name's not bob. and he's a good guy. he likes to pick on me and i love picking on him!!!;)
i was having a conversation with someone a bit ago. he said the had recently had someone sitting in his office telling him that her father had never told her she was beautiful. he said "can you imagine living like that? never hearing that?!" i just looked at him. i couldn't say anything because i wasn't quite sure how to phrase it. as uh, "uuuummmm, yes" or "yeah, i can"/ "duh"/"of course" or "i don't have to imagine it..." or "seriously. are you seriously asking me this?"
just about when i was settling on "uh really, bob, can you imagine my father actually telling me i was beautiful? with what you know about him...?" he seemed to catch on to the silence or the stunned look i can imagine was on my face, or both. and said "oh no... you're not one of them are you?! I'm sooo sorry. i think it's a tragedy..."
i actually feel kind of bad for him, because he probably feels bad about it, or at least will if he reads this. if you are, please don't feel bad, the reality causes the pain, not those who stumble on it. but i just wanted to put it out there. because it made me cry. not then, now. at the time i just felt a twinge but shrugged it off because i was thinking, "no, that's not my issue, i'm not going to take it on now. if my relationship with my father was one step better i might be sad about it. as it is we have bigger bridges to cross than wanting him to tell me he loves me. as it is, i just kind of want him gone."
anyways, the rest of the conversation was fabulous. i enjoy talking with bob. he's silly. but deep.
just for the record, his name's not bob. and he's a good guy. he likes to pick on me and i love picking on him!!!;)
on the state of my current sex education
last night i had a conversation with a sister of mine. one of those rare conversations about sex where nothing is taboo and everything is wholesome. (and yes, contrary to popular belief it is an achievable combination) i told her that kissing is sort of wierd. that's the truth. and that it still grosses me out except when i'm in the moment and i feel like kissing someone (of all the like one person i've kissed ;) ) i told her that one of the problems i think i'm going to have with sex is "the goo". hahaha and yes, that's what i called it. i'm not quite as matter of fact as she is. i still use references like "goo" and "weewee". anyways...i don't want it on my hands or on my body let alone in my body! neither man goo nor woman goo. and i learned that the vagina is like a slinky that get's elongated when you're aroused. why doesn't anyone ever tell us these things!?
she told me that if she doesn't get married there's no way she's gonna live her whole life without sex. and frankly i don't think she should feel like she has too. sex seems to have been coming up a lot in my conversations recently. a couple weeks ago my best friend told me that she had recently made out with her fiance until 5 in the morning one night and then again the next night (although not until five) and that had been very beautiful. she's a very sincere and devout christian and felt relieved to spill her conscience to me and know that i was still fine with her.
it's funny, you know. i think as christians our goal with the whole absitnance thing is to promote purity, and safety and intimacy with sex but so much of the time we totally miss it. we often wind up with inconsistently followed rules and guilty secrets and no support to deal with sexuality and sexual activity. it's... something's got to change.
and i say all this with we terminology to represent my upbringing and culture more than current faith state.
she told me that if she doesn't get married there's no way she's gonna live her whole life without sex. and frankly i don't think she should feel like she has too. sex seems to have been coming up a lot in my conversations recently. a couple weeks ago my best friend told me that she had recently made out with her fiance until 5 in the morning one night and then again the next night (although not until five) and that had been very beautiful. she's a very sincere and devout christian and felt relieved to spill her conscience to me and know that i was still fine with her.
it's funny, you know. i think as christians our goal with the whole absitnance thing is to promote purity, and safety and intimacy with sex but so much of the time we totally miss it. we often wind up with inconsistently followed rules and guilty secrets and no support to deal with sexuality and sexual activity. it's... something's got to change.
and i say all this with we terminology to represent my upbringing and culture more than current faith state.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
i am quite pleased with myself at the moment
i am feeling exceptionally content and satisfied with my life right about now. it's amazing what a sense of accomplishment can do for you! i just completed taking the hardest of my senior comprehensive exams and am rather inclined to believe that i passed with something of flying colors. i have a tendency to believe myself impossibly brilliant in moments like these and am currently reveling shamelessly in the engagement of that tendency. oh i shall have to return to earth sooner or later but why in christ's name would i want to do it tonight!?!
my roommate makes the best smoothies. she snores horribly by night and creates these fantastic smoothie concoctions by day. i suppose enduring one is the price i have to pay for enjoying the other. when i got back from the four hour test just a moment ago i was so happy i lent her all of my quarter's for doing her laundry with -- which was a big sacrifice for a college student, truly. anyways then she pulls from the depth of the fridge a pitcher full of deep red, creamy perfection! i leapt with ecstatic joy exclaiming "yipee you've saved me some!!"
she said "you're like a kid"
i said "eh..." and then began drinking big slurping mouthfuls of the berrylicious coolness...
yes, i conclude, life is quite pleasing to me at the moment.
my roommate makes the best smoothies. she snores horribly by night and creates these fantastic smoothie concoctions by day. i suppose enduring one is the price i have to pay for enjoying the other. when i got back from the four hour test just a moment ago i was so happy i lent her all of my quarter's for doing her laundry with -- which was a big sacrifice for a college student, truly. anyways then she pulls from the depth of the fridge a pitcher full of deep red, creamy perfection! i leapt with ecstatic joy exclaiming "yipee you've saved me some!!"
she said "you're like a kid"
i said "eh..." and then began drinking big slurping mouthfuls of the berrylicious coolness...
yes, i conclude, life is quite pleasing to me at the moment.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
last night i did a wise thing
Last night i did a wise thing in a moment of foolish desire.
i was driving home from my foster family's feeling alone and troubled. My spirit restless wanting someone to talk to. But of the maybe 3 people who would have made the conversation meaningful no one was available. So i thought of my friend in tennessee. And let my voice poor everything out to him. And i didn't feel so alone in the dark humming interior of my little car skimming along over the black asphalt amidst a see of speeding taillights. Even though i was as alone as before. And my voice got hoarse.
But i was still listening to salsa and Reggaetón beats crackling off the stereo when i drew near school. and thought i wasn't done feeling like a tropical fish zipping, amid the sea of other night drivers and letting my feelings float like another free tide. So i called my brother still crippled up from his accident and recent surgery and asked him for directions to the beach. And drove on. Sometimes singing along to the familiar beats of my favorite station or laughing with the dj. And sometimes contemplating desperate fantasies with a ludicrous amount of sincerity. At some point i decided if i saw someone i liked, especially if they were alone i would walk up an ask them to have sex with me. It's my first time, please! why not on the beach with it's long stretches of blue sand and coal black waves where in the shadow no one, if they came along would give more than passing thought to a couple making love. There's no one to tell them i don't know you from adam, and if you happen to be a decent person it could be beautiful. If you could give me what i want, which is the experience on my own terms. But of course the chances of being able to randomly pick a lesbian or decent man out of the small happy gatherings, standing alone, were next to nothing. and yes i knew it was more likely to end in rape, aids and regret than anything else, so...
No more came of it as found myself at the end of the pier. For the first half hour at least fighting my fears of the dark swelling water's below and the people, mostly not in shadow behind me. I couldn't decide where to keep my back, and i kept looking over my shoulder. Until the corner emptied and that helped some, eliminating one side of uncertainty. The slowing rhythm of my heartbeat and evened breathing followed as my eyes and mind slowly adjusted to the few fisher people and occasional strollers and i began to see the beauty.
I saw my first wild seal, maybe sea lion weaving in and out of the shadow cast by the pier's lamplight chasing after flitting fish near the surface. I could see his fins slapping expert strokes in briny water and hear the distinctive wuffling of his breath and snorts while he dodged and dove and eventually disappeared. His form was huge. He was wild and amazing. He was free... and possibly a she. i felt as though i alone had been selected for enchantment and told no one. Were the sea lions and whales and dolphins really humans once who chose the ocean over land and life as our fallen race? Are there really sea-people? Mer men and maids?
I could have believed it for a while and as the last of the stragglers began to fade around eleven i began to sing. Songs of enchantment and sorrow willing the world around me to be filled with safety and peace, to be lovingly restored. Songs that tried to match the feelings of my heart to the words of our race. “...sea, black sea, rolling sea below, who do you fear, are you fearless?...”, “....swells, o swe-e-e-e-e-e-ells, who taught you to rise up as a wave and crash upon the shores of ma-an?...”, “out there over the waves, where black of sea, meets black of sky, do the stars dip in the salty spray? Does my soul find peace so far away?” i'll never remember more than a strain or two anything i sang and the melody may have been no more than a plagiarized conglomerate when it was on key, but still, i found release in them.
At last, i walked away. Occasionally stopping to lean against the rail and let my gaze drop away from the smooth, thick, dull, deeply grained planks. The ocean below looked as a moving black and white photograph. Dark swells like black satin rippling in the breeze, crested with lacy white foam, streaming after each wave like an intricately woven veil. There is breathtaking beauty in everything larger than life.
Reaching the end of the pier i turned off into the soft sand at the left. The clink of final dishes being cleared by waiters and busboys, pockets no doubt heavy with mother's day tips from their wealthy diners, met the open air behind me. and soft music escaped the nearly empty bar to follow me across the shore as my feet trod tentatively in the shifting sand. At last i stopped several paces from two couples dancing slowly by the dying embers of a glowing fire and a youngish child roasting a last marshmallow over the coals.
sitting alone on the ridged sand waves with my knees also tucked under the huge sweatshirt i contemplated how my night could have ended differently. I watched the steady golden lamps cast flickering orange streaks across the water. I felt the rush of waves striking the piers heavy pillars with a dull shudder. I heard the seals bark in the distance and a bird call from time to time rising over the steady rumble of the ocean falling on the shore and slipping silently back. I rose and let my body dance to the rhythm for a while before turning and heading back. Back across natures sand to my little green capsule to hum over the blackened streets to the city and her ways. Amidst a crowd of other people all alone in a sea of blinking lights and radio waves. Back to a life which leaves me no time to contemplate the meaning of life. Returning from a four hour detour on the way home last night i knew i had done a wise thing with a moment of foolish desire.
i was driving home from my foster family's feeling alone and troubled. My spirit restless wanting someone to talk to. But of the maybe 3 people who would have made the conversation meaningful no one was available. So i thought of my friend in tennessee. And let my voice poor everything out to him. And i didn't feel so alone in the dark humming interior of my little car skimming along over the black asphalt amidst a see of speeding taillights. Even though i was as alone as before. And my voice got hoarse.
But i was still listening to salsa and Reggaetón beats crackling off the stereo when i drew near school. and thought i wasn't done feeling like a tropical fish zipping, amid the sea of other night drivers and letting my feelings float like another free tide. So i called my brother still crippled up from his accident and recent surgery and asked him for directions to the beach. And drove on. Sometimes singing along to the familiar beats of my favorite station or laughing with the dj. And sometimes contemplating desperate fantasies with a ludicrous amount of sincerity. At some point i decided if i saw someone i liked, especially if they were alone i would walk up an ask them to have sex with me. It's my first time, please! why not on the beach with it's long stretches of blue sand and coal black waves where in the shadow no one, if they came along would give more than passing thought to a couple making love. There's no one to tell them i don't know you from adam, and if you happen to be a decent person it could be beautiful. If you could give me what i want, which is the experience on my own terms. But of course the chances of being able to randomly pick a lesbian or decent man out of the small happy gatherings, standing alone, were next to nothing. and yes i knew it was more likely to end in rape, aids and regret than anything else, so...
No more came of it as found myself at the end of the pier. For the first half hour at least fighting my fears of the dark swelling water's below and the people, mostly not in shadow behind me. I couldn't decide where to keep my back, and i kept looking over my shoulder. Until the corner emptied and that helped some, eliminating one side of uncertainty. The slowing rhythm of my heartbeat and evened breathing followed as my eyes and mind slowly adjusted to the few fisher people and occasional strollers and i began to see the beauty.
I saw my first wild seal, maybe sea lion weaving in and out of the shadow cast by the pier's lamplight chasing after flitting fish near the surface. I could see his fins slapping expert strokes in briny water and hear the distinctive wuffling of his breath and snorts while he dodged and dove and eventually disappeared. His form was huge. He was wild and amazing. He was free... and possibly a she. i felt as though i alone had been selected for enchantment and told no one. Were the sea lions and whales and dolphins really humans once who chose the ocean over land and life as our fallen race? Are there really sea-people? Mer men and maids?
I could have believed it for a while and as the last of the stragglers began to fade around eleven i began to sing. Songs of enchantment and sorrow willing the world around me to be filled with safety and peace, to be lovingly restored. Songs that tried to match the feelings of my heart to the words of our race. “...sea, black sea, rolling sea below, who do you fear, are you fearless?...”, “....swells, o swe-e-e-e-e-e-ells, who taught you to rise up as a wave and crash upon the shores of ma-an?...”, “out there over the waves, where black of sea, meets black of sky, do the stars dip in the salty spray? Does my soul find peace so far away?” i'll never remember more than a strain or two anything i sang and the melody may have been no more than a plagiarized conglomerate when it was on key, but still, i found release in them.
At last, i walked away. Occasionally stopping to lean against the rail and let my gaze drop away from the smooth, thick, dull, deeply grained planks. The ocean below looked as a moving black and white photograph. Dark swells like black satin rippling in the breeze, crested with lacy white foam, streaming after each wave like an intricately woven veil. There is breathtaking beauty in everything larger than life.
Reaching the end of the pier i turned off into the soft sand at the left. The clink of final dishes being cleared by waiters and busboys, pockets no doubt heavy with mother's day tips from their wealthy diners, met the open air behind me. and soft music escaped the nearly empty bar to follow me across the shore as my feet trod tentatively in the shifting sand. At last i stopped several paces from two couples dancing slowly by the dying embers of a glowing fire and a youngish child roasting a last marshmallow over the coals.
sitting alone on the ridged sand waves with my knees also tucked under the huge sweatshirt i contemplated how my night could have ended differently. I watched the steady golden lamps cast flickering orange streaks across the water. I felt the rush of waves striking the piers heavy pillars with a dull shudder. I heard the seals bark in the distance and a bird call from time to time rising over the steady rumble of the ocean falling on the shore and slipping silently back. I rose and let my body dance to the rhythm for a while before turning and heading back. Back across natures sand to my little green capsule to hum over the blackened streets to the city and her ways. Amidst a crowd of other people all alone in a sea of blinking lights and radio waves. Back to a life which leaves me no time to contemplate the meaning of life. Returning from a four hour detour on the way home last night i knew i had done a wise thing with a moment of foolish desire.
Friday, May 11, 2007
when memories echo
i remember sitting in the old cement stairwell at back of the university where my dad taught, writting letters to god. imagining what it must be like to grow up in the inner city surounded by concrete and cement instead of farm and forest as i had. in torn jeans and old t-shirts and shoes without laces because that was cool when i was 13. i made up songs and listened to them bounce around in the empty stories above and below me. about the same time i remember sitting in therapy holding my head up with my right arm propped on the edge of the chair for hours without moving. i would sit so long and so still in that position that my hand would fall more like into a coma than asleep. it sometimes took a good 15 minutes of rubbing to bring it tingling back to life. while the little wiry therapist tried to shock me into saying something by telling me there was probably a part of me that had wanted to be molested. what she didn't understand is that i was beyond shock and whatever fraction of the story she ever got was truly minute. i still have bright eyes though, even when i get overwhelmed now. and i've had at least one truly good counselor since then, in college. even her i sent back to the books though until she finally gave up trying to diagnose me and just help me. she watched wheand learned about me that way. and her perceptions have become and been astute and full of depth. i have gratitude to her for that. i don't think she would still say she understands me. but she's helped me so much. and for that i am grateful.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
BrainsplAtt! What do they call it really... flow of consciousness writing.
I understand why people drink as i get older. I want to drink too sometimes. The more education you are helped too the worse it gets. How can you feel good about yourself when you look at the world around you? Look critically. Look sensitively? Shamelessly, if i do anything that's what it will be about, me. My own esteem. Because i'm driven to the brink of insanity by the reality i can't extract my conscience from. I search for a cause knowing the perfect one will never come and i simply have to pick. One of the many so badly needed. But it's heart breaking. Do i start from the ground up on something that's not being touched. Or do i assume a cause that has a better chance of at least making some greater difference? Trying to make myself feel better about who i am and the land, the skin, the life i was borne into. I have the tendency to dream about the things for which i long the most. It's because i get myself to sleep by imagining what i desire were true. Sometimes i wake up believing it. For a moment. A few nights ago i dreamed that i was black. Had literally borrowed someone's skin. Touched my head and exclaimed “my hair's nappy!!!” I was so happy. Couldn't have been happier. I thought finally i'll look how i feel. Knew looking in the woke up mirror glass it wasn't true... but then My friends used to braid my hair in high school. And then all the little white girls started doing it. Well, i was very involved with the kids and junior high at the time. But i'll never forget going into the grade school cafeteria for some reason and seeing all these little braided heads surround me, secured like mine with brightly colored beads and orthodontic rubber bands. I thought my god, what have i done! I'm brainwashing these kids! Should i be doing this at all? Am i trying to be black? Are they?!? see there were like 6 black kids at my school, i was friends with three of them. That's where i got the first beginnings of my ethnics education. having problematic conversations about how some black people got offended by white people saying stuff like “dude that's tight”or what was it,“dog” and “cool” in the same sentence? switching up words that came respectively from the black american community and what, white surfers??? and white ignorance. That's always a topic of hot debate, because racism ended in the 60's right? And i'm not racist just because i don't want to move into some “black community” by buying a house that's too cheap (like such a thing really exists in so-cal but that's a whole 'nother discussion). Oh, you mean a poor neighborhood. My bad, i thought they were the same thing. I hope you feel the sarcasm dripping off my tongue. but the sad thing is, that's a real conversation i had with my foster dad. (at least the essence as it ended up forming in my brain, though not all of it got said, quite in those words anyways) he advising my foster sister not to look too much into the houses below whatever range he said. Are you mad? Yeah, me too. If anything i'm saying is offensive to you, please, spit it out. Let's talk about it. How else can we learn about each other. I'm dumping the contents of my brain on page. Just upending the bowl and splat! this is like it is, unaltered and unpretty. So it might not reflect my true ideation, or that which i desire to hold at least. Or maybe it does and needs changing. But i think there's value in seeing how we think. Really think. Both for our own selves and those around us. We can more benefit each other in loving conversation that way. I think and hope. I'm proud of people who make a difference, even a small one conscientiously. I just don't know how to get myself there. I don't know what my block is. Though i take full responsibility for it and my subsequent silence, my stillness. This is my only voice right now, rather pathetic as it is. But i promise myself and i know i'm inching that way. Against all the unknown fear that keeps surfacing alongside the draw. But don't worry it won't last too long. I've never been one to shrink too long, or too far from whatever i don't like about myself, am uncomfortable with or fear. So if not today, tomorrow i guess. It's building.
this has been a cleansing of the brain.
this has been a cleansing of the brain.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
i love the way of summertime
there is a way i love about summertime.
like how the sun melts into my skin.
the steam that rises off thick green grasses.
the sudden cool beneath a spreading oak.
the dry buzz of bugs and distant mowers .
the tck tck ttzzzssshh of the sprinkler
spraying fuzzy, glistening rainbowdrops across the lawn.
the heavy smell of warm roses
wafting layers on the stiffled breaze.
everything thick
and rich
and syrupy.
the way i love about summertime
like how the sun melts into my skin.
the steam that rises off thick green grasses.
the sudden cool beneath a spreading oak.
the dry buzz of bugs and distant mowers .
the tck tck ttzzzssshh of the sprinkler
spraying fuzzy, glistening rainbowdrops across the lawn.
the heavy smell of warm roses
wafting layers on the stiffled breaze.
everything thick
and rich
and syrupy.
the way i love about summertime
Monday, May 7, 2007
getting unscared and hatian cofee is thicker
the thing is...about people and life... that there's always something surprising waiting around the corner. some small detail that makes everything okay. tonight it was the familiarity of sitting on the edge of the couch with a friend's arm around me discussing what drink to get at the cofee shop. the simple act of popping the lid off my latte so she could smell it brought comfort back to my world. suddenly i felt again like a casual visitor in a friendly place where a moment ago i had felt insecure, unsafe. safety can come and go in a heartbeat. but tonight it was coming.
i was glad to see a few lesbian couples chilaxin and the conversation interupted occasionally by the deep rumble of rastafarian laughter while we discussed the politics of haiti. "you're kreyol is good" she said "you have a good accent." i shrugged, "sometimes. i can't always get my mouth around the words though"
"no, not sometimes," she said. "not sometimes."
i was glad to see a few lesbian couples chilaxin and the conversation interupted occasionally by the deep rumble of rastafarian laughter while we discussed the politics of haiti. "you're kreyol is good" she said "you have a good accent." i shrugged, "sometimes. i can't always get my mouth around the words though"
"no, not sometimes," she said. "not sometimes."
rape kit
My body know's terror.
I don't know who was the first to do me.
But they let a black snake loose inside of me.
It came between my legs into my belly.
And it lives between my breasts.
My stomach curls when it visits and my breath can't get in.
I'm throwing up.
But nothing's coming up.
And it makes me want to pee.
I try to think what would make me feel better, but i can't.
The world outside me isn't safe.
And inside there's a snake.
My whole body tingles and there is a sinking rock.
I spent four years trying to tell someone but i can't choose the time or place.
And when it's hiding i don't find it.
Cause i can't hide from it.
The fan is blowing on my skin and i wish it would stop.
I don't want to feel anything.
Anything!
I wish i could turn my body off!
I don't know who was the first to do me.
But they let a black snake loose inside of me.
It came between my legs into my belly.
And it lives between my breasts.
My stomach curls when it visits and my breath can't get in.
I'm throwing up.
But nothing's coming up.
And it makes me want to pee.
I try to think what would make me feel better, but i can't.
The world outside me isn't safe.
And inside there's a snake.
My whole body tingles and there is a sinking rock.
I spent four years trying to tell someone but i can't choose the time or place.
And when it's hiding i don't find it.
Cause i can't hide from it.
The fan is blowing on my skin and i wish it would stop.
I don't want to feel anything.
Anything!
I wish i could turn my body off!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
*******beach cactus*******
i love this picture. i took it in san diego a while back. to me, it captures the diverse complexity of southern california. a culture of irony: rich and divided: pike* and smooth like milk. (*pronounced piqué it means spicy hot )
it says.. "you have a memory", and i know.
for i have drunk from a cacuts under the heat of a beating sun.
and i have danced when stars filled the same sky, wide sky and the sands were cool beneath my feet.
and i have listened to the soul in the song of the desert wind as she calls from falling sun to rising dusk: from fading heat to frigid light: mourning horizon to morning horizon.
and i have known that life is life, and i have but a memory.
it says.. "you have a memory", and i know.
for i have drunk from a cacuts under the heat of a beating sun.
and i have danced when stars filled the same sky, wide sky and the sands were cool beneath my feet.
and i have listened to the soul in the song of the desert wind as she calls from falling sun to rising dusk: from fading heat to frigid light: mourning horizon to morning horizon.
and i have known that life is life, and i have but a memory.
i graduate in june
Next year I'm going to write myself into a stupor.
and i can't wait! maybe i'll set up a website too, Jodel can help me and i will use it to blog and make links for other aspiring activists and we'll all struggle and muggle together. lol. i feel gleeful when i think about it! ;)
and i can't wait! maybe i'll set up a website too, Jodel can help me and i will use it to blog and make links for other aspiring activists and we'll all struggle and muggle together. lol. i feel gleeful when i think about it! ;)
it's a construct people, i know ya'll buy it, but...
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) - Cite This Source
rac·ism [rey-siz-uhm] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others.
2. a policy, system of government, etc., based upon or fostering such a doctrine; discrimination.
3. hatred or intolerance of another race or other races.
[Origin: 1865 < F racisme. See race2, -ism]
—Related forms
racist, noun, adjective
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.
What Races????
rac·ism [rey-siz-uhm] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others.
2. a policy, system of government, etc., based upon or fostering such a doctrine; discrimination.
3. hatred or intolerance of another race or other races.
[Origin: 1865 < F racisme. See race2, -ism]
—Related forms
racist, noun, adjective
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.
What Races????
my journey through the construct
every time i come to my email box i look for there to be (1 new) or (2 new) so my heart can skip a beat with hope because there are those few important corrospondence that somehow measure who i am.
and i don't want to look at what i have to say right now because i don't want to see this racism in me. but i need to express it so perhaps i can look back and say "i remember when..." because, in hopes it won't be true anymore.
but i've been learned about ruby dee. heard her say something on the radio the other day and had to have it. now i seen pictures of her and they don't match her voice. and that's a common dissonance because she's not somebody yet to me, she's an "out there" not quite reality existing in the world i don't yet know.
but what bother's me is the seeing of historic black peoples i aint never heard of. the racist part is me being bothered by how they look. just like white people, except black. same hairstyles and clothes. you'd never know, well... i don't know what. that they were/are so oppressed... by us. of course. that's the strength of them i guess. i don't know why i find dissonance in the matter. i guess because i think they should look... different. and why are they all new to me?
i'm 22 and was raised and well educated in this country and yet they have been invisible to me. why? that drives me crazy.
that and the fact that we celebrate columbus day. when i have kids we're going to mourn columbus day. we'll all hate it together. i refuse to celebrate it. he was a wretched, wretched, ignorant man.
indians indeed. and why did i grow up calling first nations people indians, still. in the 21st century? like we all never figured out we weren't in india? columbus day indeed.
and the invisible black people who somehow managed to found our country without ever existing. funny the things you never learn, or worse yet "learn" in history.
and i don't want to look at what i have to say right now because i don't want to see this racism in me. but i need to express it so perhaps i can look back and say "i remember when..." because, in hopes it won't be true anymore.
but i've been learned about ruby dee. heard her say something on the radio the other day and had to have it. now i seen pictures of her and they don't match her voice. and that's a common dissonance because she's not somebody yet to me, she's an "out there" not quite reality existing in the world i don't yet know.
but what bother's me is the seeing of historic black peoples i aint never heard of. the racist part is me being bothered by how they look. just like white people, except black. same hairstyles and clothes. you'd never know, well... i don't know what. that they were/are so oppressed... by us. of course. that's the strength of them i guess. i don't know why i find dissonance in the matter. i guess because i think they should look... different. and why are they all new to me?
i'm 22 and was raised and well educated in this country and yet they have been invisible to me. why? that drives me crazy.
that and the fact that we celebrate columbus day. when i have kids we're going to mourn columbus day. we'll all hate it together. i refuse to celebrate it. he was a wretched, wretched, ignorant man.
indians indeed. and why did i grow up calling first nations people indians, still. in the 21st century? like we all never figured out we weren't in india? columbus day indeed.
and the invisible black people who somehow managed to found our country without ever existing. funny the things you never learn, or worse yet "learn" in history.
if you're... lucky.
last night i was at the bridal shower of a beautiful young woman. she's marrying a highschool friend of mine and they make a handsome couple. there were several people there. family and friends. her bridal party. her dad who's known for his sentimentality and very sweet. they played games and ate food and people told stories about her and the groom. all the usual things, i guess.
and me, all i could think was there's no way in hell i'm ever doing this! (getting married, yes - if it's legal, but having a shower like that, fuck no!)
i couldn't help but feeling that there's something mildly ridiculous about the whole thing and i could never take it seriously. but mirth was only one of the things i felt. it was overshadowed by feelings of swelling anger and bitter tears. i wanted to scream at someone and tell them it was a ridiculuous show; that they were all attending a circus. and i wanted to cry because i felt so alone. my friends and i we left early. when i got home i accidentally locked my keys in my car. so i kicked the damn tire, wrote a caustic email to a pastor friend of mine and went to sleep with tears drying on my lashes.
and it's not because i don't have a man either. hell for all i know it's a woman i'd be looking for. it's because i don't fit. it's because i don't care about the things so many other people do. i don't want to in many cases, and in other's i just can't bring myself too. most of the time i want to be different, am proud that i am. but when being different makes me feel like there's nohwere for me to belong it just hurts. i wind up feeling like a caged animal bellowing at the injustice only to be scolded for temper tantruming.
i think what got to me more than anything was a video her younger brother had prepared for the occasion, though of course, he wasn't there. it showed old footage of her as a little kid, dressed up for other's weddings with her dad behind the camera telling her she looks beautiful. that's what makes me feel like a caged animal. burning, searing jealousy. it's base, it's vile, it's regretable, and it's true. one of my deans has told me more than once that she doesn't think people ever get over sexual abuse. i know they don't. yeah, we heal but there's always a scar.
and i don't mean that in a hopeless way. i'm not really writting this for people who already know, i'm writing it for those who don't. if you do know, don't give up. keep on the upward journey b/c no matter what you may feel things could always be worse and they can always get better. they will for me, i know. i believe that. i'm just saying that right now i just really want those of you who have been spared, who got lucky, to realize it. if your parent's didn't beat you or ignore you, if your father or brother's or cousin's or neighbors didn't molest you or rape you... please realize it. if you're genitals weren't mutilated so that you'd be a "good girl", if you didn't spend most of your life being called a slut and a ho regardless of what you ever could have done. please realize it. appreciate it. for our sakes. what's the point of you having gotten to be innocent and in many cases keep that innocence if you never notice it. what you have is not the norm. i know you think it is, but it's not. what you have is a blessing. it's what we wish we had. and it would make it so much easier for us, if you could just recognize that and be a little more humble about it. a little more cognizant of the fact that you're, lucky.
and me, all i could think was there's no way in hell i'm ever doing this! (getting married, yes - if it's legal, but having a shower like that, fuck no!)
i couldn't help but feeling that there's something mildly ridiculous about the whole thing and i could never take it seriously. but mirth was only one of the things i felt. it was overshadowed by feelings of swelling anger and bitter tears. i wanted to scream at someone and tell them it was a ridiculuous show; that they were all attending a circus. and i wanted to cry because i felt so alone. my friends and i we left early. when i got home i accidentally locked my keys in my car. so i kicked the damn tire, wrote a caustic email to a pastor friend of mine and went to sleep with tears drying on my lashes.
and it's not because i don't have a man either. hell for all i know it's a woman i'd be looking for. it's because i don't fit. it's because i don't care about the things so many other people do. i don't want to in many cases, and in other's i just can't bring myself too. most of the time i want to be different, am proud that i am. but when being different makes me feel like there's nohwere for me to belong it just hurts. i wind up feeling like a caged animal bellowing at the injustice only to be scolded for temper tantruming.
i think what got to me more than anything was a video her younger brother had prepared for the occasion, though of course, he wasn't there. it showed old footage of her as a little kid, dressed up for other's weddings with her dad behind the camera telling her she looks beautiful. that's what makes me feel like a caged animal. burning, searing jealousy. it's base, it's vile, it's regretable, and it's true. one of my deans has told me more than once that she doesn't think people ever get over sexual abuse. i know they don't. yeah, we heal but there's always a scar.
and i don't mean that in a hopeless way. i'm not really writting this for people who already know, i'm writing it for those who don't. if you do know, don't give up. keep on the upward journey b/c no matter what you may feel things could always be worse and they can always get better. they will for me, i know. i believe that. i'm just saying that right now i just really want those of you who have been spared, who got lucky, to realize it. if your parent's didn't beat you or ignore you, if your father or brother's or cousin's or neighbors didn't molest you or rape you... please realize it. if you're genitals weren't mutilated so that you'd be a "good girl", if you didn't spend most of your life being called a slut and a ho regardless of what you ever could have done. please realize it. appreciate it. for our sakes. what's the point of you having gotten to be innocent and in many cases keep that innocence if you never notice it. what you have is not the norm. i know you think it is, but it's not. what you have is a blessing. it's what we wish we had. and it would make it so much easier for us, if you could just recognize that and be a little more humble about it. a little more cognizant of the fact that you're, lucky.
Friday, May 4, 2007
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