[ sometimes I can hold my tongue
sometimes not ]
twisted insights 5.0
Break the terror break the terror break the terror of the urban spell
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[ sometimes I can hold my tongue sometimes not ]
I read: |
college student. (english literature, dance, education)
quite fond of: friends and family (and where the lines blur) poetry the bay area dance (for life and always) eating constantly party time (excellent!) retail therapy olympic level procrastination wandering in libraries sleeping at odd hours emotional masochism Youtube Last.fm 
Poetry Excerpts from "Sound Off" chapbook. Poetry Workshop I, Mills College, August-November 2009. Copyright 2009, all rights reserved. "Progression"
As a
repeated chest pelting
supposition
early onset dementia
bewildered iris
mission statement
as
Horizon line
Testament not old not new
Ampersand
Technology etching That’s enough for today.
"unscheduled" tight
"strangers"
this glass was blown and cut and formed
"Chicken Chow Mein" Nothing is delivered without cost.
[ cohesion and concreteness
Ideals are minimal. Intangible. Disintegrating.
Your fortune: Only you can change your life. No one can do it for you.
It is quite the reasonable goal,
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Monday, November 10, 2008
I’m in between scenes in the first few minutes (maybe a few beyond the first few minutes) of You and Me and Everyone We Know but I had to stop it because I needed to speak right now or else I’d start screaming or smashing plates and calling unnecessary attention to myself and attention is either exactly what I need desperately or what I need to avoid at all costs at this moment in time. So I feel that there are so many components of one’s identity. Some you’re born with and its blatantly obvious and you live with it. You deal. You thrive or you don’t depending on what culture or society or background you’re placed in and how this identity does or doesn’t mesh with it. Sometimes this works in your favor, other times it doesn’t, and either you relocate or you change (though it’s a lie, if its an inherent part of your identity) or you’re miserable, or you transform your misery through some sort of outlet. Living as a woman of color, I rank them. And that’s not the order. Female, African American/Native American (barely, 1/16th isn’t visible to the naked/unknowing eye but I like to pretend that I belong to more things because the more groups you have the more likely that you’ll find acceptance somewhere), and something else...(probably. Not 100% certain. Wouldn’t bet my life on it). And there are so many people who would hate me for placing one above the other. Particularly, claiming womanhood over race when there is a certain slot for Black pride. Especially here. (I went back after about half an hour and edited some of this because there's still some things I'm not ready to fully claim. I'm scared, I'm shaking and crying and scared that I won't be loved by the people I'm not strong enough to live without yet. And I hope that I won't have to wait for when they're gone to claim it, because I just want them to love me, I want to love things I can believe in without knowing they're there, and I'm afraid that everything will crash on itself before I even have a chance to get there. Before we all have a chance to get there. And there's too much left. There's too much left. This can't be it.) Will I always be shamed for believing W.E.B. Du Bois? For being a member of that talented 10th? That’s essentially what it was in school, being accepted for being one of the six. Our own Little Rock nine. Will I always be betraying my own people for loving the clothes and music and people who aren’t necessarily of my own “culture”? Didn’t our ancestors fight so that we could live our lives as we wanted to live them? Am I an elitist bitch for being so judgmental when in turn, I’m the one that should be judged? Though much of the time, I feel like I can accept it, there are times when I feel that I’m wrong and I need to change, but I feel like in turn, that’d be another way of living a lie. And there’s so many other identity crises that I didn’t even touch on (being able bodied, Christian, English as a first language raised, pretty in the mainstream, conventional sense, American, educated, and longing for something more. Hopefully, it’s through acceptance of my own characteristics and flaws that I’ll grow, instead of destroying myself slowly. Coming to terms with my darkness is hard, because I tend to slip and fall into things that I know aren’t the best, and if I was a little stronger I think I’d stop. I certainly hope so. But I don’t think I’ll really know until I take the time to live, and breathe, and look towards the unknown. And now I’m trying to connect to the internet and to the world and to others and to you but my network is erring. It’s faltering. My connection is faltering and my life isn’t reaching you and I can’t fix it. I don’t know how to fix this. |
