seriously...
I can't believe I seriously love him. I'm not sure if I'm in love with him... Everytime we talk it's like my love for him is activated. I love to listen to him and to talk. Laugh with him and at him. Touch him and be touched. And just know that he feels the same. He's not what I dreamed for me, but he seems to be what's real for me. I do love him, and that's all there is to it.My Apologies
I'm sorry that my involuntary absense expedited our separation. But it seemed that even my presence would not have haulted this inevitable happening. For though our time shared was truly unforgettable, they existed through false pretenses. We were not the lovers we had feined ourselves into believing we were. We were simply two kids - searching for love by overcomplicating a friendship. I apologize for my foolish cognition and wait patiently, considering the unlikely possibility that we will continue our relationship in the years ahead.puppet
I feel like a puppet. Going through motions just because they're laid out for me. Like I'm walking down a path that's been walked on, run on, trampled on a BillioN times. This trail is boring...I need to make a new trail. I NEED to make a new one. My OwN trail.
Maybe it's my "Black Panther" stage in life or something but for now, that's what I need. A journey. An expedition. My goal - to find my purpose.
MawMaw
Don't speak to her like that.
All the years she's spoken to you.
Never letting her manners slip
You never caught her off her game.
She used to be perfect.
Never slouching; legs crossed.
The only time her shoulders dropped were when she dropped down to pick me up.
She sat with her legs crossed, and taught me to cross mine.
"You look like a boy."
She never sugar-coated ANYTHING...
Still. She was perfect.
So don't speak to her like that.
Don't you remember the meals she cooked? For YoU?
The sacrifices she made to make and keep her family happy?
How dare you.
She fixed me a grapefruit.
Yes, just a grapefruit.
But I remember it now, 14 years later.
In my sickness she catered to me.
She gave me her bed to lie in, even though Price is Right was on..
So don't speak to her like that.
She is the strongest woman I know.
I'd never seen her cry. Never seen her upset.
She gave and gave and gave and gave, never ONCE asking for Anything in return.
She wouldn't accept if you tried.
Her house was our house; it still is.
Grand Central Station we often call it.
Never was there a day without visitors, yes, visitorS - plural.
So don't speak to her like that.
True, her words don't come out right anymore,
"How you doin' MawMaw?" "Yes, it was."
"Are you hungry MawMaw?" "I think he did.."
True, she doesn't reach for my niece the way she reached for me.
Her unmatched strength replaced now by unbelievable weakness.
True, you are the one feeding her now.
Wiping her mouth
Sitting her up straight
Catering...
But don't speak to her like that,
Don't you think she deserves a little reciprocity?
Fear
Falling.
It's sick, really.
For me at least.
See, I didnt know what was happening, just that it did. without warning or a safety net to land in.
But I didnt care.
Cuz the way I was falling, the trip down, had me thinking it was right.
Had me thinking that everything was going as planned...
That the pure white sun and blazing yellow moon were in perfect harmony.
Made me think the stars were in the sky, s c a t t e r e d, yes, but only because they didn't quite Know how to spell out Your name and put it right next to mine.
...but it wasn't.
It was obvious in the looks I got from my peers, the words from my friends, the scorn from my Family...
And what was worse - I didn't care; I didn't want to climb up.
If everything were to stay as perfectly imperfect as it was - the collapsing World around us - it was Fine by me.
But...
He had to make a name for himself.
He had to show me that he could climb back to the top without so much as a Scar. no Bruises, No broken bones.
Had to make me feel like it was my fault for falling without the certainty of my strength to climb Back up.
So now I gather myself.
Remembering to tie both shoes before going out.
Remembering to step over any cracks in the ground.
Always remembering...
family + friends = Fands!
I just made that up, literally. I kow it's lame but you'll understand once you read this...IF you read this.
So. Last night was a very eventful night for reasons that will go unmentioned. However, my friends were there with and for me the entire time though. Which got me thinking:
Everyone says friends are so important 'cause you need someone to talk to and share love with and yada yada. Which is, in part, true. But in reality, you can talk to your family like that. Sure most people don't and some don't have a family. However, you (or at least I) reach a point in a friendship where you share love for your friends. And, in my opinion, that love makes them familiy. They have all the qualities that a member of your family has and you see them [if you attend the same school of course] almost everyday! As you do your family. My point is, I rely on my family for a number of things including support, love, guidance, and help and I [maybe not "you"] rely on my friends for the same. My friends are my family.
Maybe I am just going along with what everyone else already says, but I just realized it for myself. I wanted to write this. Do you agree?
whEre were You?
Where were you today when I needed you??
You were no where to be found. Today when I found out that my cousin was killed over a senseless argument with her mentally messed up boyfriend? And, more upsetting, that her TWO daughters were in the house when it happened? I looked for you, not so much to cry to, but at least to complain to. whY is this the 4th family member I've lost in 2 months? There is H A T E in my city [{now more than ever maybe}] and everywhere, really. Now that I need YoU, I can't find you. You don't even care...
My head knows this, but my heart won't accept it. I feel like my head and my heart are making me crazy. I say crazy 'cause one day I'll be over your bullsh-t and ready to ignore you and treat you in the same heartless manner you treat me. But then, with enough "i love you"s and "i miss you"s I'm right back to folding to your every request.
I don't quite understand it so I wouldn''t blame you if you're confused. Just know that I needed you, today like other days, and you weren't here.
my New Year's Proposal
Happy New Year to anyone who may or may not read this!
Its crazy how stupid I feel; I JUST realized that a new year means a new journey, a new experience. And how even though, technically, we cant "start all over" for a new year, we should still apply that thinking to our lives! No, it wont be exactly like school where you begin each semester with a 100 - perfect. 'Cause maybe you'll still have that job you hate, that class you didn't pass. Maybe you wont get any wealthier or more popular just because the last number in the date changed. BUT! Suppose you come to the realization that God has blessed you with life, health, and sanity just long enough for you to see at LEAST the start of another year! And suppose that will give you motivation to work harder, possibly impressing your boss and earning you some "cred."
Suppose you take that same knowledge and try your best, even if that includes posting sticky-note reminders all over, to stay focused on not only that one RIDICULOUS class, but all of them! And suppose your improvement gets you recognition that could lead to a scholarship! Then what? Suppose you come into this year with a good attitude just to see how far it gets you?
I don't see any harm in that...what do you say?
the Beauty in Music
The beat.
Rhythmic.
Baseline either slow and steady, or fast and thumpin’. Piano flows through my ears from the background – quiet, so only heard in the breakdown. Guitar chimes in and hits notes no one can imitate through plain vocals – m a g i c.
Snare fills in snaps for every time you forget the lyrics or need to catch your breath. It never leaves you hangin’.
These sounds combine to create the most perfect melody just waiting, pleading for someone to cover them; tame them.
The voice.
Obligated, as by uninformed consent, it glides onto the track. Provides breaks and harmonies wherever the melody guides it.
Emerging as Powerful...or as Gentle...or as Sincere as necessary to create a mix unprecedented by A N Y other creation.
The relationship between a beat and Her artist can elicit any feeling ever described, never described. The relationship IS the emotion. This IS passion. This IS desire. This IS heartache. This IS love.
THIS is Beauty.
First "poem" [no title]
my Words.Desires.Actions were confined to my mind.
my tongue held captive by my Unconscious.
my arms became as heavy as the world Atlas carries.
if i had the strength to touch you, i would. kiss you, i would.
tell you what you do to me, for me.
my words would speak to you like a storytellers', and you would explode.
easing my hysteria, you would tell me that you felt the same as i. for as long as i...longer than i.
we would share our Desires.Words...
giving our Actions courage to take control.
and our s e p a r a t e bodies would be satisfied with just the presence of the others.
nothing less [{or more}] than a Tell All kiss would suffice our physical needs, and we would continue on our day.
hand in hand.
into a world of Possibility.