diary logs

pretty self- explanatory.

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enfield 2/4/09 1:01 am

"I just feel old sometimes."

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the sexual liberation of mammy

when you take away someone's ability to be sexual, you take away their humanity.

if mammy was able to be sexual, she would be the white mistress' biggest fear- but is that necessarily true? If she was able to be sexual, who is to say that she would be straight?

The Watermelon Woman

"mammy, have you ever been lonely?
do you believe in love?"

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my room, friendly conversation while sharing a bowl: 1/12/09 3:12am

i could join the circus- i'd make so much money! if my feet were fused together, like this? i'd be like a mermaid- i'd make so much friggin money!"

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i can't get hamlet out of my head.

To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.

Hamlet wasn't suicidal, he was just tired.

he just wanted sweet dreams.

he just wanted to rest, peacefully, forever.

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neosoul is dead?

someone once told me that neosoul is dead, but
the mere idea of our bodies touching sets
trumpets ablaze in my head, and
its a rare type of woman that gets me to speak in time
with shakespearean sonnets and nursery rhymes, but
this is what you do to me.

isnt it obvious that im lost in the melody of our
quarternotes and halfnotes and backstrokes...

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children speak the truth

Saturday, Dec. 20th- 2:45PM

little brother playing computer games

go, go..

why is the computer screen making me so slow?

here it comes here it comes hereitcomes- no!

i'm afraid to die, i'm afraid to die, i'm afraid to die...


...me too.
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family secrets, boston 5:47PM, 12/25/08

"i wish i could just be dead to her. I wish my name would be lost on her lips."

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love song final scene mammy

mammy, are you happy?

mammy are you lonely?

mammy, do you love him? me neither.

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"darkies never dream"
love song? slow dance.. mammy yella gal.

end of the show- puts on rag, puts on apron. begins to sing

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paris and cigarettes

i am sitting in my room, smoking a cigarette, listening to a sweet melodic mixture of reggae and a man's tenor voice yelling in the quad. if you asked me a couple of years ago, i would have told you that this was paris. paris was one of the biggest reasons that i started smoking, dreaming black grrls in paris, practicing smoking behind cars in my hs parkin lot during th 5 minute break between classes, hoping the teacher walking down the hall doesn't smell the sticky stench of tobacco on my coat.

i had a dream that i got my book back. i dont rly remember who i lent it to, some other black grrl with big dreams. but im my dream, i got the book back, and the cover had been ripped off. it was laying on the floor. thats all i can remember, but that image of the floor is so vivid in my mind- like somewhere along the way, i lost a grip on my dreams and let them drop.

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tv and otherworlds

as a kid i would press my face to the television screen, amazed at how the picture looked upclose. id always find myself looking at a constellation of red green and blue pixels, but i thought that if i looked in the right spot then id find some portal to another realm. id be able to claw my hands through the screen and pull myself into that tv screen, magically transport somewhere else. this could very well be why i need glasses now.

after a while, i gave up on televisions and would dive into books, get lost in my imagination. i read books like a starved child, id suck them down, at least one a day, like vital nourishment. have you ever gotten so involved in a book that nothing else matters? eating, sleeping, peeing- it can all be forgotten as long as you get to the next chapter. when i was in second grade, my favorite book series was the baby sitters club. it wa an easy read, and i had dreams of friendships like that. me and my four, five, six best friends would start some sort of club to make money. wed be stylish but well liked teenagers. there would be the boy-crazy one, the tomboy, the goody two shoes, the artist, the one whos from out of town.. it would be great.

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weather report hampshire college wed 1/7/09 9:14 AM

small chunks of hail remind me of the noise pop rocks make when you swallow them too quickly the low quiet gurgle of sugar crackling in the back of yr throat.

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robbie's room, dakinf204 sun 2/8/2009 4:38PM

the melody of breadfruit falling from a nearby tree

the thud resounds still in my eardrums 9 yrs later