I hate waiting, and summer has always just felt like one long, overly glorified, agonizingly hot, 3 month long wait. :
I want it to be fall already.
I want it to be fall already.
float high above all the cares in the world
You are viewing the most recent 9 entries.
17th July 2008
20th June 2006
14th February 2005
an old couple walks by, as ugly as sin - but he's got her, and she's got him
Today was weird and I woke up feeling in the pits - but towards the latter half of the day I pulled it together, allowed myself to be completely uplifted by the significance of insignificant things. It seems that things were at the worst they could possibly have been at but in less than an instant coincidence and complete randomness struck and there it was. :
And later on, it felt good, riding my bike. Feeling the wind on my face, seeing the city fly past me, knowing that literally and metaphorically I can take myself anywhere I want to be. I feel blank and empty, full and colorful at the same time.
I tend to act and think as if I know and have experienced it all yet in reality I am still a blank canvas. It's a question of your own personal philosophy, on whether or not it's up to me to paint it myself or if life will paint it for me. but for now I am rather enjoying my time undone. I won't exist forever, and i have a feeling that this time and this opportunity should not be wasted trying to pretend that i am already "established".
Broken down, I like being able to screw around with my life. with the people that i meet (fuck, i'm honest), the places i go, the things i do, decisions i make. I like that I would not be where I am now had I not made "bad decisions". i like that i am still making "bad decisions" now, getting away with it, and still coming up on top (or at least, where i wanted to be) in the end. I like that i am moving about effortlessly. But this grace period is not an excuse.
A means to escape reality, responsibility, and the fact that i have screwed (and continue to screw) people over? Myself over?
13th February 2005
who gave them the fucking right to run around like they own the night ohhh BANG BANG
Yesterday I tried to venture over to the free store, only to discover I was in the wrong borough. In the rain, on my bike - well, shit! Disappointing in particular because the grand opening party was happening, and I'd been hoping to see the person I met in DC at NCOR who told me about the place. But hey, I had a nice ride through the stinking glory of Chinatown and as it turned out, where I thought I wanted to be was just a couple minute's ride from the Knitting Factory - where a band I love happened to be playing. :
Today I got the address straight - but upon arrival, I could see there was no one in the place. Yet the lights were on? So I took a chance, and the door creaked as it opened - so loudly it was probably heard across the street. But still no one came, and I realized that I was completely alone. Fucking awesome. Put together and run by volunteer anarchists, it would only make sense that the doors be left open 24/7, without staff.
I wandered around a bit, took a scarf and two books, left a pack of cigarettes and some books of my own. Saw a list of trade-offs and found someone in need of graphic design, offering bass lessons. Whoa. It's so elating to know that a place like this, which I dream of opening myself one day, is in existence and thriving.
All those who have told me my goals are impossible - they are not. With the collective work of a handful of highly motivated and, yes, idealistic people, this is possible. It will become reality with your help or without it. Call me naive, call me stubborn, and maybe at times I have a complete one track mind. Shit, maybe I am "intimidating" sometimes.
But if anything those qualities are ones that are necessary to GET IT THE FUCK DONE. These traits - MY traits - have taken me both forward and backward, and I would not trade them for anything. It is still hard to differentiate between whether I'm using them to my advantage or to my detriment sometimes. But at least I know that I have the strength to get through and adapt to anything, and that I am learning to use my mind to get me where I need/want to be.
Me, I do things on my own time and while I know that's not necessarily good, when I do get around to doing them, I do them WELL. I need for things to be at the worst point they could be at. And just before all hell is about to break loose, I bounce back hardcore with a complete turnaround. I wish more people would/could understand that and let me be, but at the same time, I think i'm the one that needs to change.
If that's the case then I'm going to learn my lesson, soon. One day, maybe it'll be too late. One day, maybe I won't be able to bounce back. But for now, this is what it is. Know that I'm not procrastinating, forgetting or totally fucking up - I'm just... building up.
Watch out, fuckers. I'm coming back, full swing. I'm taking my time now, gathering resources, getting shit together, and things may seem quiet on my side...
But trust me, I will pounce.
Read this shit. Note the date. Sadly, it could have been written yesterday.
2nd February 2005
I'm fed up with sacrificing my personal comfort and boundaries to earn money that will enable me to buy clothes and shoes that are supposed to define me from companies that kill and exploit other people of color when in actuality wearing those clothes will do nothing for me once i step out my door. Once i stop admiring myself and how "individual" and how "me" i look in the mirror and leave the comfort of my home, that hairstyle and those pins and those clothes won't matter. Because regardless of my personal style, regardless of how much i try through clothing and music and whatnot to seem as far away from stereotypical black as possible, I will still be just another brown face. That realization and that reality is tortorous. :
All the money that I have spent, all the time that I've wasted trying to seem as "not black" as possible, all the money I've poured into harmful products and corporations... Only to finally start to realize how pointless it is. I cannot shed this skin. Maybe if I were white, a white male in particular, my alterable appearance (hair, clothes, shoes, etc) could speak for me in a room full of strangers. But I will always be a brown girl first.
I have been a slave to the media. I have allowed myself to be convinced by advertising and whatever else that black culture is what everyone fears so much. I have allowed myself to be convinced that if I focus on my looks and focus on making myself appear as far away from "street culture" as possible, maybe I'll be taken seriously. If I buy these white products and wear these clothes and listen to this music, maybe I won't be lumped into the black category, maybe I won't be seen as something to hate or fear, maybe this white society will have a place for me if I try to shed as much of my blackness as possible.
But that is not the case, and so long as our society is like this, that will never be the case. And in falling into the trap of buying buying buying and focusing on my appearance, I have allowed my REAL tools to atrophy. My weapons, what I could truly use to advance myself... Have faded away. My vocabulary has fallen into the gutter. My speaking voice is so quiet you have to strain to hear me. My patience and my ability to focus is limited at best. I fear talking to people because I come off horribly - as rude, as arrogant, snobby, intimidating or meek - almost always the opposite of how I feel/am. My communication skills are officially slim to none.
And that is exactly where society wants me to be.
16th December 2004
It's the anger at the feeling pushed forward and shoved back at the same time when all you want to do is walk your own pace. :
It's the anger at living in a place where people are so easily bought and sold.
Fuck this. I will go my own direction and quite possibly, more than likely, it will have nothing to do with anyone else.
What do you have to say for yourself?
26th October 2004
please don't allow your voice to fade...
I need to move. I need to flow from city to city, coast to coast, country to country, person to person, fling to fling. The stability of a permanent roof over my head in the same place does not soothe me. And this need shows something. I cannot commit. I crave it yet I despise it. I can't stay long enough to disclose any relevant information about myself or to lay down the foundation for the relationships (friendships or romantic) I desire. :
I crave San Francisco, Boston, Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Montego Bay, Toronto, Philadelphia, Montreal, Kingston, DC again and yet I wonder if I'd truly be happy anywhere else. If my upping and leaving would not simply result in a replay. If it's not my surroundings that need to change but myself.
No, I know the answer.
And still my nights are spent staring at the ceiling remembering airports and Greyhound stations and Chinatown bus corners.