Without Rihannas new album i would not even be floating right now.
it's brave. and scortching.
Russian Roultette? already been played.
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Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
No ava, NO WAY!
My computer crashed this week. I have been devastated by losing all my writing. that alone has been keeping me sad. So i THOUGHT i saved all my writing to my external hard drive, but oh no! nothing! i lost all my writing. my whole life. i feel like my heart is broken! I feel like something was taken from me. I will never get those words back. And all my play writing........gone. Things Ive been writing since i was 9 yrs old. I'm so upset i cant even think about my finals, or the fact that i have no money for rent. This is so inconvenient and horrible. My stomach is turning.
HOW could i have been so irresponsible? I hear my mothers voice, but my own as well. - wondering how i could be so careless. im usually smarter than that, but this just proves my absent mindedness....if i don't care to save my own writing who the fuck will care to read it?
Over. I have to start all over. and in a split second i think maybe this is good. rebirth? Am i not meant to have those words anymore? are they part of a me that is dying, dead? But that doesn't change the sadness, at all.
I'm really fighting against the universe. it wants me to start over, and i wouldn't. i wouldn't give up those things on my own. i needed a push, but this was not what i expected.
i'm just crying. i can't believe it....and still this happens right before finals. i am clearly cursed at this point.
HOW could i have been so irresponsible? I hear my mothers voice, but my own as well. - wondering how i could be so careless. im usually smarter than that, but this just proves my absent mindedness....if i don't care to save my own writing who the fuck will care to read it?
Over. I have to start all over. and in a split second i think maybe this is good. rebirth? Am i not meant to have those words anymore? are they part of a me that is dying, dead? But that doesn't change the sadness, at all.
I'm really fighting against the universe. it wants me to start over, and i wouldn't. i wouldn't give up those things on my own. i needed a push, but this was not what i expected.
i'm just crying. i can't believe it....and still this happens right before finals. i am clearly cursed at this point.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
So i prayed the at the church of gaga today
So i prayed to lady gaga today. And i really mean it. Of course i obsess over her in that way of loving beats, fashion, dancing, and such. Loving her in a queer way, obvi. Loving her because every single song reminds me of my bestfriends as we all found the album at the same time. No, it's because she truely inspires my writing creativity. She helps me express myself, she helps me tell my story better. every time i tell it.
It might be stupid and, "not creative" to some people, but i always write renditions of her songs. This time i choose "Teeth".
it's more like a free write/poem. but i could sing it to you. it sounds like teeth, obvi, but sounds a lot diff actually.
Show me you teeth.
Show me your pride. Wear it outside. And let the rain wash it down the pipeline.
Show me your demons
Let them come and play
Let them walk all over me since that’s what you do anyway. Why change the game? Show me your game
Wear your insides out – give us a boost, I'll help you bloody eagle, scout
Give me your visions so I know whose gonna die
Show me your honor, give me a surprise
Show me a lot more than good old American pie – before you catch my eye, show me your teeth.
- thats it so far.
it felt so good to feel good just now. and lady gaga always makes me feel a little less pain in the world.
It might be stupid and, "not creative" to some people, but i always write renditions of her songs. This time i choose "Teeth".
it's more like a free write/poem. but i could sing it to you. it sounds like teeth, obvi, but sounds a lot diff actually.
Show me you teeth.
Show me your pride. Wear it outside. And let the rain wash it down the pipeline.
Show me your demons
Let them come and play
Let them walk all over me since that’s what you do anyway. Why change the game? Show me your game
Wear your insides out – give us a boost, I'll help you bloody eagle, scout
Give me your visions so I know whose gonna die
Show me your honor, give me a surprise
Show me a lot more than good old American pie – before you catch my eye, show me your teeth.
- thats it so far.
it felt so good to feel good just now. and lady gaga always makes me feel a little less pain in the world.
Friday, December 11, 2009
if it isn't love...why do i feel this way?
Up again, same time, every morning like clockwork.
Everyday i loose more and more faith. Today, i lost faith in genunine care.
I'm not sure i want to travel when im like this. Miranda and i have about 2 weeks of solid travel ahead of us and of course i was excited. But now, now i just want to be alone. I can't even wash the dishes without breaking into tears. And i mean you can't take that with you everywhere, eventually people can't talk about it anymore. you can't talk about it anymore. Some have said i am SO SO sick, and i know it. niice. But really, its not bad that it was said, but it wasn't okay that it was made a joke. Or not even a joke, just used to make me feel less than, beneath. How can you help someone when all you want to do is make them feel feeble, weak, and disillusion? I'm sure someone will tell me someday
"Acceptance should never be mistaken for surrendering to or not caring about something. It means learning to appreciate what is given, rather than what is missing. Instead of resisting what we don’t like, acknowledge it in a new way." - Aina J
...but i cant get that. I understand that concept, but i think it's lost on a lot of other people. I do not believe i have been or could be truely accepted. No. no no. Im way too much of a bully, spiteful, hurtful bitch. And for that i don't want ANYTHING to do with ANYONE. It's weird how that happens, how one day you wake up just wanting out. Like you'd rather be dead then know how people really feel about me, how they talk, how the conspire. You'd rather be lifted to another universe where you know no one and no one knows you.
Sometimes i wish ross would come back. Thats when i know im at my lowest, when i wish for my rapist/boyfriend to come back and teach me a lesson. He was the only one that could you know, teach me how to behave. And maybe if i'd listened and learned better i wouldn't be fighting against this image thats been set up for me. I would have learned that white people always win. They make the rules, they break them. They tell you when trust is broken, fixable, or out of the picture. They tell you what trust means, and you must accept that. They call the shots. They tell when something is over, beginning, deserves a second chance, or can rot in the ground. They tell you when you're being inappropriate. There is no defense against this because they know they will always be right. They know that at the end of the day they can live in their whiteness knowing everyone will believe them, always forgive them, and always give them a second chance. I don't know whats its like to get a second chance. Because once i fuck up - its forever. All my accomplishments, goals, dreams, aspirations, everything....gone. All because someone said so.
I think im still allowed to process my feelings tho, as far as i know. So i will. And they are dangerous, like knives.
Everyday i loose more and more faith. Today, i lost faith in genunine care.
I'm not sure i want to travel when im like this. Miranda and i have about 2 weeks of solid travel ahead of us and of course i was excited. But now, now i just want to be alone. I can't even wash the dishes without breaking into tears. And i mean you can't take that with you everywhere, eventually people can't talk about it anymore. you can't talk about it anymore. Some have said i am SO SO sick, and i know it. niice. But really, its not bad that it was said, but it wasn't okay that it was made a joke. Or not even a joke, just used to make me feel less than, beneath. How can you help someone when all you want to do is make them feel feeble, weak, and disillusion? I'm sure someone will tell me someday
"Acceptance should never be mistaken for surrendering to or not caring about something. It means learning to appreciate what is given, rather than what is missing. Instead of resisting what we don’t like, acknowledge it in a new way." - Aina J
...but i cant get that. I understand that concept, but i think it's lost on a lot of other people. I do not believe i have been or could be truely accepted. No. no no. Im way too much of a bully, spiteful, hurtful bitch. And for that i don't want ANYTHING to do with ANYONE. It's weird how that happens, how one day you wake up just wanting out. Like you'd rather be dead then know how people really feel about me, how they talk, how the conspire. You'd rather be lifted to another universe where you know no one and no one knows you.
Sometimes i wish ross would come back. Thats when i know im at my lowest, when i wish for my rapist/boyfriend to come back and teach me a lesson. He was the only one that could you know, teach me how to behave. And maybe if i'd listened and learned better i wouldn't be fighting against this image thats been set up for me. I would have learned that white people always win. They make the rules, they break them. They tell you when trust is broken, fixable, or out of the picture. They tell you what trust means, and you must accept that. They call the shots. They tell when something is over, beginning, deserves a second chance, or can rot in the ground. They tell you when you're being inappropriate. There is no defense against this because they know they will always be right. They know that at the end of the day they can live in their whiteness knowing everyone will believe them, always forgive them, and always give them a second chance. I don't know whats its like to get a second chance. Because once i fuck up - its forever. All my accomplishments, goals, dreams, aspirations, everything....gone. All because someone said so.
I think im still allowed to process my feelings tho, as far as i know. So i will. And they are dangerous, like knives.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
my usual self
So today i woke up at 5 am like every morning since.
But i haven't been able to write either. or say. i don't know how to do either anymore. I'm very cautious - in the midst of knowing how bad i can be. It seems like i make mistake after mistake. Like i can't change. And maybe everyone's onto something about me. I wouldn't doubt that, how nice of a person can a black woman be?
I did it, i broke every rule. But in all fairness i didn't know some of them were there. But that doesn't excuse breaking them.
Something happened, something snapped in my recently. No sleep. i can't sleep. I can't hug or stand the sound of my own voice. I can't eat...wont eat.
Right now, i hate being black. it is killing me. it is too easy to use it against me, and it doesn't matter if it was 5 years ago or 5 mins ago the impact is endless. i just feel guilty and helpless. i feel responsible. i feel broken, like i just can't be fixed or something. And i don't even know whats wrong.
I want to stay away. i want to go away. i dont want to tell anyone i love them or care for them because that love, that care is like poison. It seems to do no good that i love someone, i loved my dad, and he died without even saying goodbye.
i hear everyone SCREAMING " theres the door, get the fuck out of the door!". ive been told many times by many different people that self hatred is not productive, but when all you get from people is negative feedback, what do you feed yourself?
I'm at the point where i don't want friends. i'd like to give up, (weak, i know) but im not good at it. Would you ask someone to fly a plane that doesn't have a pilots license?
I'd rather have broken ribs, pain, cuts, bruises, my mom not believing in me, being called a monster, actually being one, have people hate me, an overdose, or whatever. I'm not comfortable with who I've become. I used to be so obedient, then i came to college and realized i didn't have to be. only to, in the end, be punished for not being obedient. i fucked up, everyone knows no one likes you unless you keep the peace. tell lies. lie to yourself, and kiss ass. and i , i thought i was above it and now look at me. it happens i guess...
this is not about anyone else. this is about how i see me. as brought to me by them. i can already see the displeasing looks, gawks, and stares at the screen. no one likes someone honest enough to say they hate themselves. that kind of rawness is disarming.
a mistake is forever. it can't be undone. not by me or anyone else. it will always be there, reminding me that i have no clue how to make choices.
but what happened to me? what snapped? somewhere someone is smiling. & rightfully so.
But i haven't been able to write either. or say. i don't know how to do either anymore. I'm very cautious - in the midst of knowing how bad i can be. It seems like i make mistake after mistake. Like i can't change. And maybe everyone's onto something about me. I wouldn't doubt that, how nice of a person can a black woman be?
I did it, i broke every rule. But in all fairness i didn't know some of them were there. But that doesn't excuse breaking them.
Something happened, something snapped in my recently. No sleep. i can't sleep. I can't hug or stand the sound of my own voice. I can't eat...wont eat.
Right now, i hate being black. it is killing me. it is too easy to use it against me, and it doesn't matter if it was 5 years ago or 5 mins ago the impact is endless. i just feel guilty and helpless. i feel responsible. i feel broken, like i just can't be fixed or something. And i don't even know whats wrong.
I want to stay away. i want to go away. i dont want to tell anyone i love them or care for them because that love, that care is like poison. It seems to do no good that i love someone, i loved my dad, and he died without even saying goodbye.
i hear everyone SCREAMING " theres the door, get the fuck out of the door!". ive been told many times by many different people that self hatred is not productive, but when all you get from people is negative feedback, what do you feed yourself?
I'm at the point where i don't want friends. i'd like to give up, (weak, i know) but im not good at it. Would you ask someone to fly a plane that doesn't have a pilots license?
I'd rather have broken ribs, pain, cuts, bruises, my mom not believing in me, being called a monster, actually being one, have people hate me, an overdose, or whatever. I'm not comfortable with who I've become. I used to be so obedient, then i came to college and realized i didn't have to be. only to, in the end, be punished for not being obedient. i fucked up, everyone knows no one likes you unless you keep the peace. tell lies. lie to yourself, and kiss ass. and i , i thought i was above it and now look at me. it happens i guess...
this is not about anyone else. this is about how i see me. as brought to me by them. i can already see the displeasing looks, gawks, and stares at the screen. no one likes someone honest enough to say they hate themselves. that kind of rawness is disarming.
a mistake is forever. it can't be undone. not by me or anyone else. it will always be there, reminding me that i have no clue how to make choices.
but what happened to me? what snapped? somewhere someone is smiling. & rightfully so.
Monday, December 7, 2009
A convo between me and olivia
Olivia (my bestfrined and rommate) and i were watching kitchen nightmares on BBC america.
The chef/owner was ridiculous. He was lazy, irrational, and verbally abusive to the staff. He was also a 'part time actor' which we all know doesn't exist. You're either trying to become and actor or you already are one. No in betweeens. Anyways this guy would be hanging out and drinking on the job while his ENTIRELY female staff were working their asses off explaining his crazy menu. This menu had about 23 flavor combinations that you could add to either shrimp, ny strip, chick, or mushrooms. - there was also like 4 more pages of menu that i don't recall.
So then the owners wife comes in and he describes how she makes more money than him and invested $300,000 in his business, thats is failing miserably. He then says " boy, im glad she makes good money." This is where olivia and i came in
(All sarcastic)
Ava: wait. im pretty sure that if that was a woman who "borrow" $300,000 from her husband to open a hair salaon she would be considered a gold digger
Oliva: exactly, and no one would care about her "dream" because she's just a money grubbing whore
Ava: Right, and so the message here is women should totally support mens dreams if they can afford to. Thats called a good woman. Thats called a good wife. But god forbid a woman wants a man with money....
The chef/owner was ridiculous. He was lazy, irrational, and verbally abusive to the staff. He was also a 'part time actor' which we all know doesn't exist. You're either trying to become and actor or you already are one. No in betweeens. Anyways this guy would be hanging out and drinking on the job while his ENTIRELY female staff were working their asses off explaining his crazy menu. This menu had about 23 flavor combinations that you could add to either shrimp, ny strip, chick, or mushrooms. - there was also like 4 more pages of menu that i don't recall.
So then the owners wife comes in and he describes how she makes more money than him and invested $300,000 in his business, thats is failing miserably. He then says " boy, im glad she makes good money." This is where olivia and i came in
(All sarcastic)
Ava: wait. im pretty sure that if that was a woman who "borrow" $300,000 from her husband to open a hair salaon she would be considered a gold digger
Oliva: exactly, and no one would care about her "dream" because she's just a money grubbing whore
Ava: Right, and so the message here is women should totally support mens dreams if they can afford to. Thats called a good woman. Thats called a good wife. But god forbid a woman wants a man with money....
During the before and after
Characters: Andrea.Michelle.Daniel.Matthew.Dr. Kline
We open in the doctors office. Matthew, Daniel, Andrea, and Michelle are sitting four in a row. Dr. Kline is seated in front of them. He holds nothing in his hands and sits with his arms folded. He’s waiting for someone to speak. Finally Daniel speaks.
Daniel- my brother died. Did you know that?
Dr. Kline- yes.
Matthew- You idiot. Why else would we be here? Of course he knows. He knows everything. You know nothing. That’s part of the problem.
Michelle- no the problem is the way you belittle him Matthew.
Dr. Kline turns his attention to Andrea, who is sitting at the far end of the couch. Withdrawn from all the action. Daniel sinks back into his seat unable to speak
Dr Kline- Drea, what are you thinking?
Andrea- I’m thinking about how you get paid a lot of money to just sit here and ask meaningless questions. I’m thinking about Jonathan, and the first time he taught me to ride my bike.[pause] I was so afraid. But that didn’t matter to him. He still made me try it. I’m thinking about when I used to see him EVERYDAY, and how his bed is empty now. I’m thinking about…I don’t know. I’m not even sure why I am here.
Michelle- because you owe us something after all
Daniel- I think he was asking me a question.
Michelle and Matthew- shut up Daniel!
Andrea- Good. Keep talking to him like that it will really build his confidence.
Dr. Kline- Drea..
Daniel- An-drea…
Andrea- its okay Daniel, half a name for half a person. [pause, looks in michelles direction] isn’t that right michelle?
Michelle- Jonathan is dead. Can’t you pretend this is about him?
Andrea- but it’s not about Jonathan. It’s about you looking like the perfect sister. It’s always about you Michelle. Always.
Michelle- you selfish little bitch
Andrea- ah there’s the Michelle I know and love. Welcome back.
Scene 2.
Scene opens with Andrea sitting at the table drinking from a glass. Enter Michelle.
Michelle- are you just going to sit around for the rest of your life?
Andrea- Jonathan liked to sit around. This is the form my guilt is taking
Michelle- guilt?
Andrea- yes, I feel guilty my brother is dead.
Michelle- you didn’t kill him did you?
Andrea- I feel guilty I didn’t see, I didn’t know to help him
Michelle- well you had your own life
Andrea- unfortunately for me being self absorbed doesn’t feel good
Michelle- God mother really needs to take care of the funeral arrangements…
Andrea- Her son killed himself. Hung himself with the scarf she hand knitted for him 3 Christmases ago. (pause) try to find a place in yourself where you’re sympathetic. Or alive. Where you care.
Michelle- (rushing over to kneel in front of Andrea’s chair & looking her in the face) look at me…do you care?
Andrea- (looking straight ahead and then slowly looking down at michlle) that’s not fair. It doesn’t mean he deserved to die
Michelle- no, that’s not what I am saying. I am talking about care. My care for a brother like him is a little distorted. And I want you to understand that I can feel that. I am allowed that. He was a fucking ass hole.
We open in the doctors office. Matthew, Daniel, Andrea, and Michelle are sitting four in a row. Dr. Kline is seated in front of them. He holds nothing in his hands and sits with his arms folded. He’s waiting for someone to speak. Finally Daniel speaks.
Daniel- my brother died. Did you know that?
Dr. Kline- yes.
Matthew- You idiot. Why else would we be here? Of course he knows. He knows everything. You know nothing. That’s part of the problem.
Michelle- no the problem is the way you belittle him Matthew.
Dr. Kline turns his attention to Andrea, who is sitting at the far end of the couch. Withdrawn from all the action. Daniel sinks back into his seat unable to speak
Dr Kline- Drea, what are you thinking?
Andrea- I’m thinking about how you get paid a lot of money to just sit here and ask meaningless questions. I’m thinking about Jonathan, and the first time he taught me to ride my bike.[pause] I was so afraid. But that didn’t matter to him. He still made me try it. I’m thinking about when I used to see him EVERYDAY, and how his bed is empty now. I’m thinking about…I don’t know. I’m not even sure why I am here.
Michelle- because you owe us something after all
Daniel- I think he was asking me a question.
Michelle and Matthew- shut up Daniel!
Andrea- Good. Keep talking to him like that it will really build his confidence.
Dr. Kline- Drea..
Daniel- An-drea…
Andrea- its okay Daniel, half a name for half a person. [pause, looks in michelles direction] isn’t that right michelle?
Michelle- Jonathan is dead. Can’t you pretend this is about him?
Andrea- but it’s not about Jonathan. It’s about you looking like the perfect sister. It’s always about you Michelle. Always.
Michelle- you selfish little bitch
Andrea- ah there’s the Michelle I know and love. Welcome back.
Scene 2.
Scene opens with Andrea sitting at the table drinking from a glass. Enter Michelle.
Michelle- are you just going to sit around for the rest of your life?
Andrea- Jonathan liked to sit around. This is the form my guilt is taking
Michelle- guilt?
Andrea- yes, I feel guilty my brother is dead.
Michelle- you didn’t kill him did you?
Andrea- I feel guilty I didn’t see, I didn’t know to help him
Michelle- well you had your own life
Andrea- unfortunately for me being self absorbed doesn’t feel good
Michelle- God mother really needs to take care of the funeral arrangements…
Andrea- Her son killed himself. Hung himself with the scarf she hand knitted for him 3 Christmases ago. (pause) try to find a place in yourself where you’re sympathetic. Or alive. Where you care.
Michelle- (rushing over to kneel in front of Andrea’s chair & looking her in the face) look at me…do you care?
Andrea- (looking straight ahead and then slowly looking down at michlle) that’s not fair. It doesn’t mean he deserved to die
Michelle- no, that’s not what I am saying. I am talking about care. My care for a brother like him is a little distorted. And I want you to understand that I can feel that. I am allowed that. He was a fucking ass hole.
Friday, December 4, 2009
9 kids, 4 daddys, whos the father? an exploration of Maury as a feminist tool.
Track 1 : Still
So Miranda and i were watching the maury show, which i do without fail every morning. All my life i have been perplexed about how people could not see television as "teach, mother, secret lover" - like homer says on simpsons? And there's your evidence that i'm obsessed with tv. Anyways it has always seemed limited, yet understandable, that shows like Maury are not considered feminist tool. And i do mean TOOL! I am in no way saying " ya totally lets all watch Maury mindlessly, eat bon bons, tell bedtime stories and forget about it." No i simply mean that Maurys daytime talk show really plays into my expansive feminist conscience. I try to learn and grow everyday, but i do not want to play around with that i learn.
Track 2 : Sister of Mercy
See the thing is , as a feminist, ( and i still call myself that because i am. trying to determine who is and isn't wastes time and looses lives) i do not believe in ignoring a subset of woman. Every woman in this worlds deserves to feel safe and protected. There should be no limit on that. Every woman deserves to be spoken up for, no matter what you personally feel for/about them. I am critical of my community and myself but that does not negate my love for them. I am afraid however that something is being misused. Our abilities as feminists to feel the compassion, live the experience, not live the experience because it has been harmful to you or thoes around you, should NOT be lost on a show like Maury. Truthfully, Maury obvi has both men and women on his shows. Typically the topics deal with cheating, paternity tests, porn addictions, sex with a partners family member, lie detector tests, and more topics that im sure are evading me at this moment. The point is the show does primarily focuses on women and women's plight. You do have men on the show, however, who're more concerned with weather or not the child is theirs because they need to make sure their legacy is secure. Which often lessons my sympathy for them, but that';s another post.
I think this show should be shown in ws classes, seminars, conference, grassroots meeting, institutionalized meetings and so on. It is a TOOL of knowledge. How so? my audeience may be asking. Well the show is all about female confrontation (sure its skeptical that this 'confrontation' was brought about by a male host- but ill get to that later) within the scope reproduction. I watch as women come out on stage screaming and ,usually, crying throught the story of how they became pregnant and then had their babie denied by the potential father ( i only say potential because sometimes it turns out it was not that man who fathered the child, but i will delve deeper)
So Miranda and i were watching the maury show, which i do without fail every morning. All my life i have been perplexed about how people could not see television as "teach, mother, secret lover" - like homer says on simpsons? And there's your evidence that i'm obsessed with tv. Anyways it has always seemed limited, yet understandable, that shows like Maury are not considered feminist tool. And i do mean TOOL! I am in no way saying " ya totally lets all watch Maury mindlessly, eat bon bons, tell bedtime stories and forget about it." No i simply mean that Maurys daytime talk show really plays into my expansive feminist conscience. I try to learn and grow everyday, but i do not want to play around with that i learn.
Track 2 : Sister of Mercy
See the thing is , as a feminist, ( and i still call myself that because i am. trying to determine who is and isn't wastes time and looses lives) i do not believe in ignoring a subset of woman. Every woman in this worlds deserves to feel safe and protected. There should be no limit on that. Every woman deserves to be spoken up for, no matter what you personally feel for/about them. I am critical of my community and myself but that does not negate my love for them. I am afraid however that something is being misused. Our abilities as feminists to feel the compassion, live the experience, not live the experience because it has been harmful to you or thoes around you, should NOT be lost on a show like Maury. Truthfully, Maury obvi has both men and women on his shows. Typically the topics deal with cheating, paternity tests, porn addictions, sex with a partners family member, lie detector tests, and more topics that im sure are evading me at this moment. The point is the show does primarily focuses on women and women's plight. You do have men on the show, however, who're more concerned with weather or not the child is theirs because they need to make sure their legacy is secure. Which often lessons my sympathy for them, but that';s another post.
I think this show should be shown in ws classes, seminars, conference, grassroots meeting, institutionalized meetings and so on. It is a TOOL of knowledge. How so? my audeience may be asking. Well the show is all about female confrontation (sure its skeptical that this 'confrontation' was brought about by a male host- but ill get to that later) within the scope reproduction. I watch as women come out on stage screaming and ,usually, crying throught the story of how they became pregnant and then had their babie denied by the potential father ( i only say potential because sometimes it turns out it was not that man who fathered the child, but i will delve deeper)
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