i cant explain the way my desire to do art eeks out of my body. sometimes im in tears, i dont know what to do, or how to do it, but i have this passion exploding from my pores, and i dont know how to harness it, or how to be productive with it.

sometimes i just want someone to tell me what to do, but then i also get so scared. i have nothing to offer but myself. i have no money, so that means i have no way of funding myself and nothing but blood , sweat, and tears to give, and that i will give, but i dont know how to prove it.

can hard work & determination really pay off in this industry, i believe it does and it will, i just need to find out who will give me a chance to prove myself. or where i can begin to create this space, and then the fear of failure starts to creep in, now more than it ever has before, which is so strange to me, because my confidence has always been my claim to fame, my advantage over others. ive never sat around before and wondered if i was enough, not that i can remember anyway. and now i wonder if i am enough.

how do i market myself? when dont yet have a resume to prove it, and that is what i need to start working on now, and i feel so late in the game.

so now i have to work harder, write more emails, contact more people, try that much harder, i need to create a space for myself, even if it seems room for one doesnt exist.

today i saw a pale yellow house with a purple door

today i saw a pale yellow house with a purple door

but i felt so much

a tear rolled down my cheek as i wondered

i wondered about that door and what it meant to the person who had painted it

people move in and out

they come and go

time passes

some are welcomed into doors with opened arms

others yelled out of doors

"don't let it hit you on the way out"

i look up at you standing heavy leaden with suitcases in the doorway

looking at me timidly

tentatively

unsure of what my response to you will be

in my mind i meet you in airports

making movie like scenes where people stop and think of how beautiful we are

touched by the contagiousness of our joy

a heeled foot perhaps or a sneaker, pops up in the air

as a bag is dropped down to the ground to relieve a heavy laden hand

my fingers intertwine with empty air

wondering if that is even what i really want

if its what i've ever wanted

if i ever will

your smile in my doorway is what i think i want

but you're a chesire cat

wonderful to be with

but its so dreadful when you are missing

and i wander alone on dark paths

thinking about the joy that they could bring

i walk barefooted, feeling the roots of trees through soft forest mud

i wiggle my toes in warm beach sand

i slide them under your body on the couch

you know my toes get cold

i see your body fading and your smile in the doorway

your chinky eyes fade slowly

and your smile now leers at me

mocking my naivete

i'm on kayak again

ever disappointed at the price of plane tickets

thinking about what it would take for me to get to you

where i would take you

where i might find you

what you look like now

snow whips around outside

i play with opacity in my mind

deciding how much of a wall it creates

how much i can see through

how soundproof it is

how well i can see you approaching through it

trudging through the snow towards me

sitting in a pale yellow house

a purple door painted with love

Molting Grace

The problem with having a split personality is that you know that as soon as everything is going right, something will go wrong.

Split personalities,

trusting in God,

having faith and hope and knowing that by his grace I can do all things,

When things go wrong I get so down inside,

so confused, so unable to cope but only because

I can’t get myself quite where I need to be intellectually.

Why does my own intellect get me down?

Maybe ignorance is bliss,

and I need to stop looking down and around at the people and the situations that make me stop and think.

All I wanna do with my life is make you stop and think,

I think,

that’s what I say,

I do truly aspire to inspire, but I get lost along the way.

Other things pop up, I get stressed, I see bright lights,

I wonder if I should just do what I’m good at to get this bread, and get ahead,

or at least get out,

get out of these school loans and this cage of anxiety that I trap myself into based on the fact that I don’t know what I want to do with my life.

I’m young, they say

the world is yours, they say

you are blessed and talented and beautiful,

and I know I am lucky to have the encouragement,

they say you can be successful.

These are the words that the little kids that I want to inspire need to hear,

the words that never reach their little ears

and so they see themselves as lumps of black coal without personality and value,

til they throw on bright kicks, learn to jerk or drop it low,

they wiggle with it and see that their lumps are in fact flexible,

see they can be a gangster or reinterpret the word ho, but fuck it,

cuz they’re just getting that money.

And I have all the words in the world,

to try to tell them to slow down,

to look inside, to realize the talent that they have,

to be something, something wonderful,

I want them to give their best selves to the world.

And I have all the words,

and yet for me these same words I want to pass to them create a pressure cooker,

and I drown inside them, water boiling up around me,

a bright future shoving its letters into my nostrils and making it hard to breathe.

I am gasping for air in a world that threatens to suffocate me

because of all of its great expectations.

I am the only one that doesn’t see them, or I do,

but now I am a lump of clay terrified of being molded into the wrong image,

being a beautiful statue that represents nothing, but is powerful.

Or being plastacine,

never ever taking a final form,

I’m a chameleon, just adapting to anything but not having anything that speaks of home, that helps me take my final form.

I am molting,

which just means my skin is fucking falling off and my soft wet red bleeding insides are left pulsing,

exposed to the world, to the dirt of it,

the sting of hot air full of other people’s breathe and bacteria,

whipping against the sinewy muscles of my neck, my shoulders, my back, infecting me. And this hazardous situation doesn’t seem to have a way out.

jaded, the healthy alternative?

I think I'm starting to understand what it is like to be in Los Angeles, and now I am more conscious of the things that I was afraid of in the first place. I was afraid to come to LA because I thought people would be superficial and fake, and arriving here, I've been very pleased to find a community of old friends, and meet some wonderful new friends who have helped me reaffirm my faith in humanity, artists, and people who just have a certain understanding about the ways of the world, systems, human behavior and relationships with people.

However I've also begun to understand how being here could make me jaded, and the strangest thing about it, is that I'm not sure if it is unhealthy or a "necessary" reality check. The ting that has made me realize it most is my relationships with people, and the hardest part about this past week is that I feel like all I hear is a big I told you so from my ex echoing in my head, and the thing is that he never even meant it like that.

I am used to living in a reality which I am beginning to realize, though I've neared this realization before and pushed it off as pessimism, that my reality, my rules, my way of viewing the world around me, and perhaps most importantly my expectations of people and what relationships mean and work, isn't the norm. My ex hurt me bad once, he said something to the effect of, "You need to stop thinking that everyone you are invested in is as invested in you, because they aren't." And that hurt. That hurt because I've tried so hard to find a community despite the fact that I've never lived anywhere for more than four years and have trouble being truly vulnerable with people because I don't necessarily see them as permanent. I value my relationships with people, but I've more recently in the past few years been realizing what it means to not only invest in people you see on the daily, but make real efforts to reconnect with others, stay present even when not physically present. And it isn't easy, and I can't say I'm good at it.

But being out here is different. The kind or behavior that I grew up considering to be respectful, intuitive, second-nature, all of these things that I took for granted, rules like "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" are not necessarily rule for everyone. Or perhaps that isn't even it entirely, because its a combination of being willing and able to be available to people, to have an "its just nice to be nice" outlook on life, but then it also has to do with being able to recognize what people want and need.

At times it might be just recognizing if someone is lonely, if someone is bad at asking for help but needs it, if someone is just having a tough time and might need a hug...because I do very truly believe in the power of human touch.

It's strange because just last week I had a conversation with a wonderful friend of mine who was saying that there was something very wonderful in the way that I am not jaded. But this week I wonder if its just something that should be chalked up to naivete. I don't know if my naivete is something I want to hold on to or not. I want to hold on to it, I want to be someone who gives you the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. But I'm realizing that this is often a lifestyle that leads to hurt, pain, disappointment, complications, or just straight up awkwardness and miscommunication.

I don't want to be jaded, I kind of want to be naive, if being naive is just being equated with being nice, and happy, and carefree and optimistic, and trying to do the right thing. I have always thought a lot of this outlook on life comes from my faith in God, my confidence, because I do not feel alone, because I have a relationship with God that makes me just want to do the right thing, help people when I can, try to make people smile. But now thinking about it, I see the turn the other cheek thing more clearly, and the fact that the answer to how many times to turn the other cheek is seventy times seven means a lot of pain. So does being Christian in that way, among a community of people in the world who do not believe the same way or react the same way mean a lot of constant pain. I would say yes, but then if I go back to Eckhardt Tolle I see that the pain comes mainly from the disappointment, from the realization that things are not reciprocal, that everyone doesn't see the world the same way you do. And if that is the case than the key is just to be nice, do things for other, try to meet others where they are, always go out on a limb for people, always try to come through in the clutch, try to be the reliable one, the ride or die chick, and not expect anything in return. And that, that is a hard road to walk. And one that, unless you are extremely involved in a Christian Community (which I don't necessarily know if I want to be, because for some reason I always feel like I'm not doing enough, don't care enough, perhaps am not naive enough, because I don't want to give everything that I feel like these communities are constantly asking of me) where you are not seemingly the only one attempting to walk that path, is a hard and lonely road.

So right now its almost as if I am considering becoming jaded, considering putting on a tough shell, just to not be constantly upset or feel so easily hurt by things that probably shouldn't hurt me.

cycles.

i've been trying to think of myself in relation to my cycles, there are things I've realized about myself, but becoming conscious of my vices hasn't stopped me from giving into them. one vice is attention. hmm, this goes back to ego. i think everyone craves attention, my problem is i want it when I want it, but not when I don't. I consider myself a somewhat self-contained (private?) person, but often my perception of myself doesn't agree with what other people think of me. Despite the fact that I like to be able to keep to myself at times, I also need constant validation, but then I would argue that it doesn't take much, as long as I get it, just a little bit of it, I'm good to go. Ugh, not going into detail. The bottom line is I feel like I need to check myself...before I wreck myself, some time soon.

FILM!

I've been on set 3 weekends in a row, crazy hours, in all different roles and I love it. I'm working on a bigger set with a full crew, a student production, and its amazing. I have so much fun with them and I learn a lot. I've done production design, helped with the producers role, grip and electric, blocking, stan-in, mundane PA tasks and its been brilliant. Bummed not to be with them this weekend, but I had to do my own thang...

So I shot my first shoot last night (more on this later I'm too tired to think straight and do it justice), completely flipped my bedroom and its strange, in theory i like it better this way, its cleaner, sleeker, more adult, more like a bachelor, haha, essentially how i think in my head my room should look when I'm really grown, really have my own place. Had to take my 9 Bob posters off the wall to prepare and now I kind of miss them. We'll see if I decide to live in my set or return to my space.

thoughts:

Actors are incredible. The idea of living out your emotions constantly, being so raw, so real, bearing your soul for constant scrutiny day-to-day is wild. I'm an artist, but acting it something completely different. I know one thing for sure I will never be, and thats someone who takes actors for granted or disrespects them.

I can do this. I've been so afraid of being here, in this space, this place, this environment. But I realized that it's really just about who you are as a person, just as everything is. I've been so nervous I forgot that its really just about relationships with people, and that's what I really care about too. Living a life where I can form relationships and create art is all I want to do, and this is for sure the space to do it.

Community. I am building a community, and I realize it is a network, but it goes far beyond the word "networking" a phrase which I disdain the connotations of, but for me its less like a spider web and more like a cocoon.

Regret. is a killer, regret is linked with guilt for me, and i allow myself to be eaten up, swallowed up. I bargain with myself, make promises, and decisions, and then regret them, don't listen to myself, talk myself out of things in the moment. Somethings gotta give. And its got something to do with me. Or its gonna be a downward cycle.

Faith: Undefined

today i eat breakfast with the voice of mars blackman echoing in my head, though i'm far from home, nyc, my mentors, the dear brooklyn i've created for myself as a home in my head, i know i'm in the right place. despite the pressure, and the fear i just cant seem to shake. i feel already behind when I'm not, i'm worried work will overwhelm me, money will run out, and I'll have nothing to show for it. I'm full of fear in a way that I haven't been in the past. My constant observing keeps me on the outside of most interactions except in the most intimate of settings and conversations.

but its okay? its okay? its alright? I hear myself ask myself in a Mars Blackman refrain that only Spike Lee can accomplish and have it be endearing rather than annoying. The Nola Darling in my head smiles and laughs as I take my first bite of reheated orzo for breakfast and confirm to myself, yes, its alright. its okay, its good, and laugh out loud at how ludicrous it all is.

Salim said yesterday in the most real joke ever, "I want to change the world through my films." He followed up with, "its not even about the money." He laughed, and I laughed at this clear ring of truth because its true, its so true, its all we are set out to do. What a goal, with one so large its hard to not be afraid, afraid of failure, afraid of the obstacles that will inevitably try to knock us to our feet, get us off our game, tell us we're nothing, we don't matter, no one cares about the inner lives of black characters, no one ever has. And its so untrue, but such an easy lie for the industry to sell.

I miss the feeling of security that seems so gone. I realize I no longer know how to define myself. I want to see it as freeing- Faith:Undefined. Instead I am afraid, I have no affiliations, I sat in the sun after a workout staring out at the pool, the unfamiliar campus, allowing the sun to shine down on me and choking back tears. My fear is palpable at times. There's no track team, no pi alpha, no fro-co team, no society. They are all there, they all still exist, but they are not the same. It is impossible not to notice that this affiliation inevitably has changed, if in no other way strictly because of the lack of physical space that once accompanied all of this, all of these ways in which I defined myself.

Fear is the worst, and guilt is right after. One emotion has replaced the other. Somehow I'll live with it. I'm anxious. Anxious and antsy, I can't stay still, don't feel I deserve to, don't want to be with myself for that long. I don't like the pressure I put on myself, or I don't want to face what I must do. I have so much catch up to do, I feel so unprepared to be here. but at the same time I know its the right place to be.

i'm creating a brand here....

here goes.

http://briggyfsugarcubes.blogspot.com/

sugar cube blog

i think its time for a new blog. its the best way to split up my multiple personalities and keep people updated on my life. this one is still my heart, where i pour out all of my crazy thoughts so thickly that hardly i even want to wade through the syrupy mess that i've created. the new blog will be just as sweet, but easy to understand and digest. like sugar cubes.

my breath catches in my chest, i'm far too nervous to be creaking open the door to my own room. but i am, i push it open just a crack and can only see the corner of my makeshift bed and a bit of light streaming in through the crack in the curtains. i push the door open further and exhale, you're still there, your wide smile greets me as you sleepily roll over and i can feel my face break into an uncontrollable grin. i drop my stuff and cross the room giddily, climbing onto the bed to straddle you. i'm so pleased that you're still there, and you're so cute as i watch you emerge from the realm of half sleep to consider me there in front of you. i can feel between the beats in your heart how mutual the feeling is, and i feel like the luckiest girl in the world as i realize how much you want me to be there in that moment.

re-revelation

When I think about myself, who I am as a person, and who I want to be, I most often consider myself to be passionate. This is what I value most about myself, and what I hope people consider me to be.

It seems like when I'm writing and thinking I so often come to the same conclusions, but then I have trouble implementing the changes I want to see in my life. There are many mistakes I make over and over again, and I hope that now, as I make another big transition I can really make these changes.

First off I have to stop forgetting how blessed I am and losing faith, but I also need to nurture my relationship with God, and not take it for granted. He has proven time and time again, in the most difficult and unsure of situations that he ALWAYS has my back, that he keeps me close, thinks of me, and loves me. So often I think of Christians and how we say and sing "who am I that he is mindful of me." The answer to me is more than a friend of God, or the best definition of friend. I'm not sure exactly how to go about pursuing this relationship, but I hope to find a church like ECV in LA and I want to hold myself to going, learning, living, and loving with him. I want to "live life with God in the company of friends." The best way to live. Thanks ECV.

Also I need to work out how I feel about guys, there's a new one in my life, let's call him "taio", I'm not sure he has an idea how taken I am with him, but it does mean I have some thinking to do. What does it mean that he is across the country and we both have 2-3 years of school in front of us. Am I ready to think about someone in that way? It scares me that I think I am, I'm not sure if it's just infatuation, I've been in relationships, I don't think I fall easily, but I have in the past not only fallen heavily, but also fallen thoroughly and seemingly helplessly into these things. But never so quickly, which worries me but also excites me. Is it a good thing that its less planned out, less circumstance and arguable more instinct. I'm inclined to say yes, and what does that mean...I don't know.

Sex? I think I'm gonna be temporarily abstinent again. That was a good period of time for me, a lot of personal development I think. And I am stupid about it too often, so if I cant do it right, I say better not to do it at all.

So these things have certainly been on my mind: God, Taio, and Sex. Now I need to talk about being gorgeous. I guess I've been stuck on my appearance a lot lately and it doesn't help that my supposed best guy friend said that he thought it was kind of "disgusting" the way I'd been lounging around in sweatpants and t-shirts for damn near two weeks. Ouch. My first instinct was to be pissed off, laugh it off, and be kind of hurt. But then I decided to eat the fruit and throw away the peel, I thought about how I want people to see me, how I want to present myself, and also how my Dad had asked my mom to get cuter houseclothes back in the day. Now when this happened I was pissed off and offended for her. Why should she wear velour sweatsuits like the diva sis when she is home alone? Dad said part of it had to do with visitors, but I think it also had to do with what is sexy, what is appealing, what is ideal. And at this point I don't think it's all bad. I do want to be those things. I've decided I'd like to be a bit more glamorous. Maybe that isn't the right word...I'm not super glamorous, but I think I can afford to be a bit more manicured, not super manicured, but enough. So I'm going to work on that. So part of this will definitely have to do with continuing to rid my wardrobe of sweats and shitty clothes when I get to LA but also putting effort into how I look every day...not just when I know I'm leaving the house. there. you win. but i think I win too.

So it changes to God, Taio, Sex, Appearance, Glam.

and lastly money.

I MUST LEARN TO MANAGE MONEY BETTER. I MUST. I CAN NO LONGER SUPPORT A FRIVOLOUS LIFESTYLE. NEVER COULD. AND IF I DON'T WORK ON IT, AND ALSO BE A GOOD STEWARD, I WON'T SURVIVE. PERIOD.

Grant Me Strength

Give me the strength Of verdant hills Washed clean by summer rain; Of purple hills At peace when weary Day Sinks quietly to rest In Night's cool arms; Of rugged, wind-whipped hills That lift their heads Above the petty, lowland, valley things, And shake their shoulders free Of bonds that hold Them close to earth; Of snow-capped hills Sun-kissed by day, by night Companioned by the stars; Of grim volcanoes Pregnant with the fires Of molten fury! Grant me strength, Great God, Like that of hills!

-Esther Popel

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him Forever in the next. Amen. --Reinhold Niebuhr

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths. Proverbs 3, 5-6

so is my man hiding in brooklyn?

so i’m back on my, my future man is…tip, and its really hard.

why? i feel like there are many facets of myself: who i am, who i project, how i wish to project, and they don’t always mesh nicely together. but the idea of finding a dude who can not only deal with all that but also reflect it, encourage it, fit in perfectly, or be able to piece all the bits of me together like a puzzle. that’s a difficult task. and i’m looking for a master of puzzles.

i know i’m not the easiest girl to be with. and i’m not saying that in a self-deprecating way, because i actually believe that i’ll be quite a catch, but its just a fact. i’m very independent, i’m very free spirited, sometimes my logic is arguably illogical, i have a lot of guy friends, i don’t run around trying to be super cute all the time, and sometimes i spread myself too thin trying to do too much and get a bit stressed. i will say that in a relationship the lucky thing is that we probably won’t fight, i’m good at compromising and reasoning, and not really into the whole argument thing, its a dumb waste of time. but i’m getting off task…

the new question im dealing with is what does this man look like? thanks tohttp://swagger360.blogspot.com i’m alarmed to find out that i think this man resides in Brooklyn, which is sad because that is the home that i was expecting for myself and now instead I’m in Berkeley, California and heading to LA in less than a month by way of Palo Alto. All very exciting I’m sure, but very unBrooklyn. Anyway, what’s this dude’s vibe? Is he a laid back dreaded artist, a mechanic who isn’t afraid to work with his hands? Is he a student, with a slightly hipster vibe and/or a leather messenger bag? Is he swagged out, pulling off outfits that only Lenny Kravitz and Jimmy Hendrix could ever really try and yet he is able to do it? Are we a dashing couple b/c we both love to dress up, do his pin striped suits leave people speechless, or is it his bold sunglasses, suspenders, leather shoes, boat shoes, tight jeans, white linen pants? what is it? what’s his thing, the thing that makes us look perfect walking down the street together whether i’m sweatpants, hipstered out, or looking like a conscious empress, cowri shells on dreads swinging?

well thanks to today’s obviously very important research, I’ve been getting some ideas about what the future man could possible look like. guess i won’t know til i meet him? but i must admit, I do hope he’s fashion forward.

why to say "no" to frequent casual sex: why does the number really matter

so my girl and i were talking about sex. surprise, surprise...and she's kind of back to where i was a little while ago. i think that strong, intelligent, confident women tend to have the mentality that they should be able to wield their sexuality how they want to, so that's like if i meet a guy, and i like him...do i have to set arbitrary rules as to when i can sleep with him if thats what i want to do? I've had multiple conversations with friends my age, older, and younger, recently. I feel like a lot of girls don't get with a lot of guys because they don't want to get the reputation of being loose. which is totally legit, who wants society to see them as a "slut/whore/skank" i mean the names are endless. but beyond "caring what other people think" and we all know that no one wants to be someone who "cares what other people think." okay, so beyond society's ideas of why women should get wth a lot of men...what's stopping a "single, sexy, & free" (mya) female from getting with who she wants.

well...danger, numbness, and cheapness are my reasons. and let me first clarify that i'm not coming from a hypocritical or holier than thou POV, i'm speaking from personal experience, trying to save you some trouble. I'm talking about what i know about.

here's the deal, you get to the point where you consider yourself to be a woman like a man, you are safe, smart, like the chase, and you are always in control. you get to have great sex with hot guys, sometimes little flings, and you enjoy yourself. plus you aren't an idiot about it, you keep your mouth shut, spread out the guys over spaces and friend groups, and people don't even know about most people you get with. though there is some kind of vibe about you that definitely doesn't scream virginity...its kind of mysterious and sexy.

but the reality is that the more guys you sleep with the higher chance of danger, regardless of how safe you are the chance of you misjudging someone's character, the chance of you catching something, the chance of the condom breaking, the chance of you giving in to the urge to not use a condom, and the inevitability of sexual imprinting is higher.

you and the guy can both try to be super safe and accidents happen. condoms break. someone might have something and not know it, both of you can get caught up in the moment and opt out of a condom, something strange could happen with birth control...you never know.

beyond that what about the guy, it might not be the first or second time you sleep with someone, it might be fun and safe, but what if he gets too comfortable, what if even though you thought you knew him, he all of a sudden puts you in a situation you are uncomfortable with. what do you do? yell at him, slap him, walk out, have a logical conversation...maybe you do nothing. maybe you do all of the above and he still smiles in your face the next day. who do you tell, how do you feel?

okay so those are physical dangers. but what about psychological shit? imprinting. its really hard not to compare. and its kind of inevitable that you are going to do it. so as you are introduced to more and more guys, more and more sexual styles, you are going to be making these comparisons, and that kind of sucks, and is unfair to you and the guy.

then there's how it makes you feel about yourself, how it makes you feel about the act of sex. and whats the point of casual sex? most people agree that 90% of the time, better sex comes from having an intimate connection with the person. so why have lots of bad sex, this is a simple quality over quantity equation. strive for quality sex.

alright, this part is a little offensive, but its a good comparison.

how do you answer the question, why should i stop having sex with lots of different guys.

its like getting fat. i love double chocolate cake, but if i ate chocolate cake with chocolate frosting all the time, it wouldnt be as good, i wouldn't get as excited every single time i had it. and also...id be being unhealthy, potentially getting fat. and it doesn't click for some people, they don't say to themselves i cant eat this food for all of these reasons, and then stop doing it. it takes self control. but then and they get fat. we're too smart and have too much going for us to be getting fat.

and when it comes down to it, people who are overweight have more problems socially and otherwise. it seems very harsh to say, but it is true. and often people who are not in control of their own healthy lifestyle tend to have more issues about how the feel about themselves, lower self-confidence.

if it happens it that scenario, and it can definitely happen in this scenario too. after awhile based on just numbers alone, you're gonna start feeling cheap, someone will say something in anger or as a joke and it'll sting, and even if yo don't want it to, if you want to brush it off...it might not work, it might stay there, hurting, making you feel like shit, and you can't start over. then there's the fact that people might ask you how many, you either lie (lying about anything is shitty and sucky and difficult), tell the truth, or tell them its not their business, but ether way people form their own opinions.

so...its takes self control, even if there isn't one really obvious cause and effect, there are affects.

bliss

Perhaps I lied?

Or maybe not?

I said I was tired of the dating and the games, and this is true. But the connection I’m not tired of, the intimate relationship, the merging of consciousness, and here I’m not even talking sex. Hmmm, so…

I’m not sure what to blame my 6:30am giddiness on? But I can’t think straight!

So what happened?

I smiled to myself with Blu nestling into my ears as I stared up into the Hillhouse canopy, made sure not to step on the cracks in the sidewalk, and wondered about the magnificence of such defined rays of sunshine streaming down through the leaves. I watched the dust particles swirl around in them and felt so lucky to be witnessing this; did anyone else see how wonderful it was?

Not quite sure it was the nature that was really influencing me however… I think it was approaching it from the memory of warm fingers tracing across my pelvic lines as I faded off to sleep. Coming off of that lightheaded glee, the memory of book suggestions, thoughtful inquiries, conceptualizing identities, the mystery of question quotas weighing down on my eyelashes as the comfort of feeling fierce sleep twitches coaxed me to sleep with a smile across my face.

Atypical? The ease with which these two…

I can’t even finish my thoughts!

I feel as if I’ve been cheating myself. Not wanting to allow the concept of another kind of comfort just as wonderful if not moreso creeping in, not with the old shadow still hanging around. Perhaps that wasn’t the only reason though, outside of my responsibilities I don’t think I had much mind space to give to anything else, anyone else. No point dwelling on the past, but there is always time to pause and reflect.

The reflection has led to this simple conclusion: this man sets the bar high.

The man seems wonderful (and of course terrible timing).

This man is brilliant, beautiful, built, funny, confident, and comfortable. And this woman is feeling more blissful than I have in quite some time. That is all for now.

thoughts on a brisk maine morning

Brushing a thumb against a speckled scarred bottom lip in just that certain way is only one method of contact. It takes a certain understanding to know exactly how to do this, or rather depending on the relationship it makes a difference what the real meaning is, rehearsed acts, versus sensuality (not that this can never be achieved momentarily without a deeper meaning, connection, history) but it is an anomaly. I seem to be the queen of atypical relationships however, and in the time that’s come right after college I realize how odd it is to be in a moment when my priorities themselves are shifting.

Looking out into the rising tide on a beautiful crisp Maine morning I see my fears laid out in each wave, layered but beautiful, crashing into the shore and nipping at my toes. Chills go shooting up my spine but it is a wonderful feeling to know that despite how I see my fears building up around me, identifying them is part of the process of remaining safe from them, from allowing myself to give into them, partially unconscious of the fact that this is what I’m doing. By identifying them I’m trying to choose them, hoping to understand them better. The stakes are higher now; I’m not worried about a higher GPA, a good meeting with my advisor about my thesis, what’s for lunch in commons. Though undoubtedly I will fall back into this schedule as I become a professional student, but now I’m worried about stability.

How is it that my life decisions (location, occupation, associates) form me into who I am, and who I will be in the years moving forward? Perhaps the stakes seem higher because there is arguably less flexibility after college, but that is typical as well, and can be chosen into or out of. I might just opt out of thinking that the person I am today, and form further into in the next few years has to necessarily be who I really am. Yet it can be, I think we can constantly work on ourselves, understand, evaluate, improve based on life decisions and experiences. We don’t have to be boxed in. But I do wonder now about little children’s footsteps in the sand around me as I walk the beach by myself, who I want to be, who I want my kids to be, if I’ll get a dog and walk the beach on chill Maine mornings with my family one day, if I’ll be able to, if I’ll want to. Will I even remember the feeling of looking out over glassy New England oceans as being moments where I feel so close to myself that I have to be alone and can’t share the whirring gears of my mind with anyone else?

I wonder what it means to be so internally grounded, constantly thinking about my situation and who I am, utterly concerned with self improvement in control and understanding of, of friendship with the ego. Deeply understanding my own motivations in a way that allows me to excel and not defeat myself, but also more fully understand others. Why a filmmaker? If what I strive to do is more deeply understand individuals, to continue to work in a deeply personal way with people to improve relationships between people, if I am most deeply concerned about living in and contributing to a self and healthy, growing, global community, why such a superficial industry? Can I truly expect to excel in this industry as an atypical figure? And how do I do all of these things being so typical? I am so typical in that I am concerned about this contact, about who will know that I think there’s nothing sexier than someone coming up behind you in the kitchen while you are washing dishes and nuzzling into your neck. I am so done with a lot of the dating and games, actually so done with it, that I feel silly saying I don’t want to date anymore, the next person I date seriously and put that extent of time and effort into I want to settle down with, have beautiful kids and a deep understanding, someone who will not think I’m crazy for writing in the way that I do all of my thoughts, someone who, like me, wants to talk deeply about theories of human behavior, the method to truly trusting an individual and not projecting, is this partner of mine supposed to be like me.

Will I ever understand how imperfect I really am, despite what I have achieved in terms of a resume, will I be able to stay very in touch with myself, but not withdraw so much from people that I cannot depend on anyone, will not allow myself to share responsibility because I feel somehow that it isn’t safe to rely on another person. I’m treading a fine line of self-reliance that threatens to drive me insane in the times of a crisis, because I don’t want to stress anyone else out with my problems, perceived issues, but I know that in the grand scheme of things they are not so much or so important that I should waste away anyone else emotions attempting to solve them, to fix me. But I do think that perhaps I have a problem letting other people really get in, though I know how to superficially let them feel like they are on the inside. I don’t want to feel that I’ve become political, somehow understand people in a way that leads me to being manipulative with them, to make them feel loved. I want a community that really does love me.

Going forward the contact is alarming. How do I seek the contact that I do want, while maintaining atypical relationships? Going forward is it more harm than help to be a “bro”? “One of the boys”. Is it silly and absurd to think that this membership can even be maintained in the years that come (or that it has been attained now), that any husband of mine would be okay with me walking up a lonely morning beach with guy friends to catch up on love and life. Is it truly that unfair for me to ask that of him, to want that? Should I stop seeking out guy friendships, because they cannot truly be maintained, are they the façade that everyone claims they are. I don’t want to believe that, but am I just stubborn and naïve? By being the bro do I hurt my chances at this true love, and what about playing dress up? I love to play dress up, it is my guilty pleasure but with so many identities I start to feel like one might be fake. If I go bulldogs sweatpants and wife beaters for three days and then want to go the skinniest of black jeans and highest of stilettos will I then be doing too much so much more? Does being a bro get me into trouble? Make me misunderstood and difficult to identify with, believe, relate to as a woman? How will Mr. Right feel if I can kick it with the guys too well? But if he is initially drawn in on a night where I indulge the feminine wiles is he turned off by curling up to my computer while the boys frat bronsons around poker. I need to be able to maintain all of my spaces of comfort and refuse to believe that I am really asking too much. But I’m not sure.

Moving forward, I am not sure. I am not sure what to maintain and what to redo, what will be better started anew and what has worked best for me thus far. It is terrifying to feel on the edge of a transition, where every choice is so significant, but in truth I don’t think the world will be so unforgiving of my choices. I just wonder when I will have to decide that I truly cannot have everything that I want and will begin to start choosing. It’s going to carnival, or nude modeling, or being an athlete, or being a hipster, or being a feminist, or being a painter. You cannot maintain this mescla of ethnicities and then introduce this to a husband, a family, a child, and expect them to accept this as truth and fact, even if it is you. Is there growing up that has to happen? So both parties have to compromise. Can I not keep building my identity as the years go on, do I have to stop shape shifting if I really do want what I say I am longing for, which is stability. That is a scarier question. Scarier still if I fear I do not know how to not shapeshift, and I’m leaving again across the world to start anew, will I lose the me that I feel I’ve worked so hard to create and maintain.

if i design my ideal man, do i find him when i get to LA?

if i wasn't constantly listening to music would i be a better writer?

is film school really for me?

starving artist. period?

singledom

i've been single for a year and 2 months.

april 10th 2009-june 8th 2010

this is the longest i've been single since i was 15.

i was celibate for 6 1/2 months, longest i'd been since i was 15.

these numbers and statistics might not impress you.

but they are for me and not you anyway.

but for those that know me...they are interesting and shocking statistics.

and so now i am reporting back to the world and myself what i have learned.

in re-reading my old notes, poems, writing, whatever i should call those relics of high school...all 64 pages of teenage angst that i've been recently retyping, i'm not sure i've learned much.

every new revelation i could have had in the past year plus seems to be a conclusion i came to 4, 5, years ago. but maybe this time i will listen to myself.

i broke up with musiq because of all the pressure i felt in the relationship. but i realize now i think it was pressure i put on myself. i wanted to be a good girlfriend, i wanted my logic to make the most sense. i wanted to be able to have my cake and eat it too, while feeling completely supported in the relationship. he explained to me what he could give, what he could handle, and what he couldn't. arguably he was what katt williams calls a 98% good man, but rather than have a 98% good man i decided i'd rather be alone.

but our life philosophies were so different. I couldn't be with someone who feels that all of your good friends in life you already know, who didn't leave the door open to meet more people, who feels there is one way to do things, who didn't embrace spontaneity of seek to challenge me spiritually. i needed someone who could push me and pull me, not just stabilize me. he was good at stabilizing me, which is most certainly a challenge in itself, but i don't think i was really challenged.

i'd also say his dad was right, that we were too young. that i was too young. when i first arrived in college, and we were both doing our own thing, the relationship with him was the only thing that really slowed me down, but i don't think the allure of the game was completely gone. it crept in sometimes, much to his alarm, an alarm which led to my frustration...how could he not let go and trust me.

i trust you until you give me a reason not to.

he doesn't trust you until you prove your trustworthiness.

so we were at odds.

but also i was in college, we both were. we were supposed to be growing and forming, undergoing changes and becoming more of ourselves. but we were only becoming ourselves in the context of each other, and this was the issue. i didn't know who i was without him. i didn't go through a daily routine without him. i wasn't sure if i was listening to the music i listened to, eating the food i ate, choosing the television shows i watched, deciding what to wear when because it was what i wanted, or because it was what i thought we wanted. it had become an issue for me. maybe it wasn't for him? i don't know. i don't know that I "tried to make it work"

"But if you believe you'll do best without me

I'll let it go girl it's over but before we say goodbye let's give it a try

If you leave then baby I'll leave
I'll let it go girl it's over but i have no doubt we can work it out"

musiq soulchild & mary j. blige

but until recently I was never of the mindset that a relationship took work. I thought a relationship was just when you and someone who you were drawn to became very good friends and then naturally more. i am a believer in 97% platonic relationships with a 3% crush that can be very easily contained and ignored. but the idea of having to "work" on a friendship or relationship is something new, something i experienced in college, something i am now putting into practice. sometimes i think to myself that if i had wanted to make it work, had tried, then musiq and i would be fine and be together. but in the end i think this period of singledom has been so important for me that I don't regret the loss of the relationship with musiq, even if i could have made it work.

its unfortunate that he resents me.

thats a dispassionate way of admitting that i miss him terribly and wish we were still at least friends, he means so much to me, has been one of the most stabilizing and important figures in my life in the 3 years leading up to this last one. then he transformed into a source of pain and discomfort that i tried to relegate to my inner world...perhaps i was successful. but it is unfortunate nonetheless.

what have i learned? perhaps i don't have to be 100% whole to be in a relationship with another person. perhaps it is okay to feel somewhat broken, and share this with someone else. but this person needs to allow you time and energy to feel broken (though not dwell in it) but to feel broken and be in a state of self-improvement, without feeling somehow responsible. i should have listened when musiq asked me how i knew that it was the relationship causing me the most grief over the past months. i didnt know, it probably wasn't. i'm just not good at asking for help, not the best at allowing myself to feel dependent on someone else, and so rather than delve more fully into him and us with my issues i think i chose to pull back into myself, to deal with it myself, to try to understand myself.

was this the right decision? i dont know. i don't necessarily think it should have been the most surprising one. it isn't the first time i've failed to open up and share and instead pulled into myself when i feel the most alone. sometimes its too easy for me to feel its me against the world. me and god. and no one else can really help, so why bother allowing them to try.

this is why the word community has become so important to me this year. it is a novel concept. on i love and hadn't allowed myself to become familiar with previously. imagine, relying on a network of other people (also imperfect, but striving for wholeness) who you trust. this concept of community has never been me, i've always been secretly afraid to rely on anyone, i wasn't sure what this reliance asked for in return, required of me, i was selfish.

you can't be selfish in a community. but you can protect yourself, you need to. i'm still nervous and scared, i want to be in a community but i don't want to be taken advantage of, or find myself in a situation where i am willing to give to others who aren't willing to give to me.

leaving the beloved nyc

it has been a moment since i have really written. one of my mentors told me months ago that i needed to stop and write, but the confusion of the shadow cast on mentorship allowed me to ignore his suggestions.

what has happened. i have reached a crossroads, a period of time where I watch myself moving and living as if from a bird's eye view. i am freaking out. yet by acknowledging this fact i feel more able to have a handle on the things i'm most worried about handling.

my family is doing well. this is exciting. everyone is changing, making changes, excitedyl moving forward in a healthy manner. it makes me feel more able to leave them.

my friends and i all graduated. every one of us made it out. most of us have jobs, or school ahead of us, some sort of known future lurks ahead, both inviting us into it and terrifying us with the unknown future within its discomforting uncomfortable shadow.

i'm fleeing in three weeks. it doesn't necessarily make sense, but i am. i'm leaving this coast of love, claustrophobia, memories, childhood, education, old world old school oldness. to the west coast, best coast. i had so many plans. the past four, arguable six years i've been biding my time until i would be living in my beloved nyc. maybe more than six years. when we first moved to new york, age eleven, i used to be so excited to go down to 125th and buy absurd amounts of hot 97 mixed tapes. since then i've been obsessed wit harlem. then it was as a visitor, then as washington heights crept over me, 128th became stomping grounds, dollar cabs in queens, the block in inwood, and even the buses became familiar on weekends and weeks where I escaped to friends houses I was sure I could claim new york, if i could profess to claim anywhere.

new york. new york city. the only place where beautiful, hippie, obviously not from new york because i cant help but make eye contact, remedied with stunna shades and headphones, "i know you hear me girl", bad lady, educated, bag, pockets, rolling luggage, backpack, rasta sack, army duffel, me could dip into h&m, forever 21, nicholas's, the chiney shop, jimbo's, golden krust, and feel unseen and noticed. the only place where trinidad, panama, jamaica, honduras, upstate, connecticut, and even boarding school lumped into one special place for me. the place of my first date, my first casual sex, my first fake id, my first time staying out all night, my first time realizing the people bringing the "coke" weren't talking about coca cola, my first experience with devil's springs, blacking out, awkward hookups, the place i used to roam to get myself into trouble. the place where i walk down the street, feel the sun shining on my shoulders and feel the most alive. the only place in the u.s. it feels like i'm ever really in the majority. and now i'm leaving it. wondering if i got all i could get, and knowing i didn't, haven't, couldn't possibly...wondering if i ever will.

"never darken the steps of the white house"

and this is from when I was super angry

re-reading it was shocking to me!

early one november friday morning in 2006

when I was walking across my campus to grab some grub before class

and some man said to me in passing

"never darken the steps of the white house"

a 3 part poem then ensued...but this is just a snippet

the rest of the anger is just far too much...

"is it worse to give up on myself, on my people, on my color, on my struggle

is it fair that nobody wants me-nobody wants me-I’m just a color

a shade, just some sort of shadow that’s there

my presence is always offensive-doesn’t always make the majority

feel awkward-not mine, not me at least. They find me socially acceptable

on their plane, cuz I can present myself as such

even my closest white friends don’t know

don’t know how they are being manipulated

manipulated by me, by my pigmentation

manipulated so they never have to feel awkward

while their parents are so impressed with me

and won’t admit to themselves-never would

that it’s because I’m black

that they want to cradle me-help me

they figure I need it, they want to help me

why. To feel better about the state of the world

I play my role well, I don’t notice

I’m not unoffended, they never are offensive

I just get whats…

I want to turn on BET in their living rooms

I want to be an invisible man and laugh

I want to make them feel so uncomfortable

Make them confront my blackness

I want to be ten shades darker

Want to like baby phat and rap music

I want to be their idea of a typical black

Person from a low income area with little education

So that my success will sting them more

I want them all to sting like I sting

When an ignorant man steals my joy early Friday morning

And I just stand in silence because what can I do?"

early 2006.

after the first breakup.

space

lately I’ve stopped missing you

wanting you, stopped reaching out and wishing I was holding you

and most profoundly stopped resenting you

for the space that you fill

the space that you fill in my mind

the voice that I still hear in my thought

somewhere between my ears

between the thumps of my heart

between my empty fingers-that space you fill in my life

and its because you filled it-that I found myself rendered helpless

or running away from any figure who could fill it just as well

or maybe better, or even half as well

because how could I allows anyone to occupy your space

and how can I allow you, even after a year and nine months

to keep filling it

and worse expanding it-which I only just realized

cant be healthy for my heart

and I feel like because I still missed you

I was running some kind of screening process

And allowing myself to conduct so many interviews

To fill this position that cannot be filled by any other

But there’s only so much space filled with substance I don’t understand

That I can take in my life

And what I really need now is to be contained and get rid of all of the excess

And I’m sorry but yes that means your space too

That means the time, the thoughts, the tears, the reach, the wish, the hope

The waiting, the wanting, the wondering where you are and when I’ll see you again

Wondering why you don’t call, why I don’t, if I can

Why we never ever have that awkward silence

Why you think the way you do, say the things you say, and make the decisions you make

If you feel the way I do

At least at some point I know we did

The problem was the space once again

The space between us, the spaces that filled with so many other things

That we as the other couldn’t understand

The spaces that filled and changes as we changed-if we changed

And the space where we used to fit perfectly like a puzzle

Now filled with unsurity, insecurity- too much pain for us to keep trying to take the puzzle off the shelf and put it back together…

And at this point we can’t even recognize what picture it once made, so I give up

Its like spring cleaning, house cleaning, time for a yard sale

To conserve more space-cuz-maybe cuz it hurts to be so spread out?

Or maybe I’m just selfish

And tired of allocating you so much space

And feeling disappointment for one reason or another because of you

Or maybe its not selfish and I’m just tired

Just feeling so much fatigue from continuing to reserve your seat

To make this reservation for you

To stay so emotionally reserved

When its hard-when I wonder if I shouldn’t

Certain words and feelings are so heavy

And I’m just tired of feeling so weighed down

my 2nd boyfriend:

shocks

its as soon as I get back to my room and see my frizzy hair

I wonder about sticking my finger into some sort of electrical socket

No, not that

Standing in the rain and being struck by lightening

That’s what happened

I’m sure of it

Shocks though!

One after another, after another

And people must lie

Because there is something so pleasant and sweet

So giddy I can’t stop smiling from being struck

And shocked!

His smile, laugh, teeth, voice

Singing boys to men at the top of his lungs

This fuzzy headed flannel loving farm boy

Who I love to be with

Who never leaves room for a dull moment

Who makes my hair stand on end

Spins me in circles, pulls me close, winds me in and lets me go

So proud and loud, I don’t know what’s happened or what to do

Yet there’s only one thing to do-run into the air, the rain-and I love it

And soaking and dripping from electric shocks all through my body

I get back to my room and look at my frizzy hair in the mirror

And wonder why people are afraid of lightening

finding old poetry

well...i found some old poetry today.

then i dug up some more.

there's quite a bit.

some is good, some is bad

its weirdest to be reading it though and thinking about how young i was when i wrote it

this comes a year after my first heartbreak

apparently i was still experiencing the pains of it.

even now I think about you

and realize your absence is still so much a part of me

as you always were

so much of my struggle

to regain that I’m the shit reek confidence mentality

that I once could claim to myself eeked from me when I entered a room

and claim even in the humblest way

I was

I was so me

The me I was and understood myself to be

And we were so perfect

So us, so in love, so solid

And then you left and I dissolved into a little child

My life melting in my fingers like ice cream

And though it seemed simple enough

I just couldn’t do anything about it

So now I’m me without you

Struggling to merge or morph back into a whole person

Knowing things aren’t the way they once were

And maybe never will be again

And so I wonder

Who I will be

Because I will regain that confidence

It’s a struggle, but yes I will win

And I will be me even without you

Just not sure what that me begins to look like