hello, america!

so it's been a while since i've updated this thing. i figured it was about time, at least for the novelty of being able to say "i updated my blog yah im so cool" blah. i must be getting very boring. i dont have much to say or much to write although a lot has happened, i'm sure.

im 20 now. whoo. i crave cheesecake and red velvet cake all the time, sometimes together. i have a job at a jazz club, although im still worried abt how im gonna make the rent. i still haven't been to philly. i found out my gramma is a gemini-cancer cusp (we think) today. that was pretty interesting. i could never remember if her bday was june 21 or july 21. according to my cousin, its in june. shame, cuz i would rather a july bday- seeing as how imtaking my gma's bday from now on. oh yeah, i guess thats pretty new and exciting. i have to verify the date tho.

i never intended for this blog to be some sort of diary thing- rather, i hoped it would be a place where i cold post my writings. but i haven't written i n about a month (the last thing i wrote that i can remember was for the qwoc writing group that i sort of quit). i write a lot in my head, but its such a bother to pick up a pen or to type something up. i feel very uninspired. very bored. one of my favorite games,though, is to write ppl letters. i do it alot and if i promised you a letter way bck, say... in may, i apologize abt not getting it to you. i have a letter to a friend thats been sitting on my kitchen counter for abt a month now, so sad. i need a day when i can just go tot he library and knock some shit out- although i havent been tot he library at all lately. no reason, except for a lack of time.

i have become a sleepy cat who would rather be in dreamland. my dreams are always so vivid and intricate that i really wish i could remember them when conscious.

i am babysitting for my cousin right now, for the whole wkend. the "kids" are a black dog named hudson and a whiteblackorange cat named puddytat. both adorable and well behaved (and maintained). my cuz has a nice place- three huge rooms and a patio/backyard/garden area. i like it here. i just wish it werent so empty and quiet.

complete and utter sadness.

no more tetrollapse? i dont know what to do with myself now. :'(

writing prompts #2 & #3

#2- thunderstorms

there's a thunderstorm going on outside. this type of weather always frightened me as a child, the heavy rain, the unexpected boom. if i ever got caught in a thunderstorm, i would walk around with my hands covering my head, as if i could shield myself from the weather by holding up my hands to the sky, and saying, "no!"

i once saw a flash of lightning hit my father's car. it lay next to my aunt's house, dormant, as we sat on the patio and enjoyed the coolness of the summer rain. suddenly, there was a crash, and the automobile sprang to life, lights flashing, alarms blaring.

i always felt like that car. still, dead, waiting for someone to spontaneously come into my life and wake me up with a jolt.

in eight grade, our science teacher taught us that thunder is composed of energy, and that everything gave off an energy that thunder was attracted to. even humans had a stream of positive light beaming from the top of their head. thunder did not strike you- there is a compromise that happens, a joining of positive and negative energy in the sky.


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#3- sad attempt @ erotica

there is a spot on the railing where the enamel has worn off from too much rubbing.

i have heard them call her lazy, even slow, but i know that she would rather watch, enjoy time instead of letting life pass her by. i used to be the same way, before the dullness of the dark house began to rob me of the joys in life. i used to marvel at every detail of life, the way that music can

...

now i just sit and watch her. marvel at how beautiful and expressive her face is when doing her chores, watch sweat drip from her brow as she twists her face in concentration, making sure every spot of dirt is off of the floor. she spends a lot of time on the stairwell, lightly running her fingers down the rail, searching for a spot of dirt she missed. and lately, i have noticed her watching me.

so i perform for her. i dance around the living room in exaggerated movements, trying to make her smile. i whirl my dress around me, and sometimes drag my hem up my calf slowly, waiting to hear a scandalized gasp. i can never fully shock her, though, instead she stares at me in amusement from her post at the bottom of the railing.

today i held out a brush to her, daring her to take it.

...

sometimes she whispers secrets to me. not in words, but through her fingers on my scalp, making the hairs on my nape stand with the stories that she tells me.

nobody's grrl, and who the hell is marley?

wed jun 24 2009 ashley's room 1:12AM

as i stepped out of the train station, i was greeted by a light misty rain. that's all new york is good for anymore, rain. regardless, i welcome the nasty weather, because no matter how you look at it, being outside on a rainy day is a whole lot better than being trapped inside all day. i might as well enjoy some fresh air on my five minute walk home. besides, the rain smells great.

there is something enticing about the way the rain smells on the hot concrete on a humid summer night. it helps mask the smell of piss and trash that usually lingers on the street corners. as i walk home, i want to lift my face to the sky, but instead i look down. some neighborhood boys are on one of the porch stoops, and they gave me trouble a couple of nights ago. i focus on the pavement as i pass three or four boys, a much smaller group than last time. instead of yelling ugly dyke at my back, this time they let me pass in silence. i have almost reached the end of the block when one of the boys calls to me, "hey aren't you marley's grrl?"

i roll my eyes and keep on walking, instead of yelling back "i'm gay", like last time. ive learned my lesson. its late, and i am still, after all, a young grrl walking home at night. i don't know why i keep letting this little boy constantly get under my skin. it probably has to do with being called someone's "grrl". i haven't been called than in a long time. not since brandon.

i can picture us now, in CVS, hanging out near the candy aisle. he kept thrusting a camera phone in my face, which i was doing my best to avoid. "i don't like having pictures taken of me," i told him through gritted teeth. he kept aiming the camera persistently in my face, ignoring my protests. "come on," he said, "i don't have a picture of you yet. how am i supposed to show off my grrl to the guys if i don't have a picture?" his grrl. his property, basically, to do with as he pleased. it always surprised me when he made claim to me like that. i never felt like he wanted me, even when i wanted to be "his". mostly because he never touched me.

i remember how hard it was to convince him to even hold my hand in public. i would grab his large, strong hands, and he would give my fingers a tight squeeze and then let go, sticking his hands in his pocket and letting my rejected one swing back to my side. it took a lot to get him to kiss me too. after our first- and only- date, he got in the habit of kissing me on the cheek as a greeting. i wanted more, though. i knew he was interested in my mind. he called at approximately 12Am every night, and we would chat for hours. i wanted to be reassured that someone could want me for my body.

once he came to visit me at home and sat on the floor adjacent to my bed. i remember crawling to him, in between his legs in what i hoped was a very sexy way, and turned around, resting my head on his chest. i wrapped one of his arms around my waist, and took one of his hands in mine, playing with the heavy ring on his pointer finger. he nuzzled his chin in my hair, against my cheek, and i offered up my neck to him. he chuckled, whispering in my ear, "you like that, huh?" and got up, announcing that it was time for him to go.

i once asked him why he never touched me, why we had such a hard time being affectionate. he told me that it was because he he didn't date sluts. i could hear the pride in his voice over the phone as he said it, as if he was happy that his girlfriend of three months had yet to contaminate him with her dirty, impure body. god forbid i ever mention wanting him to fuck me. god forbid i ever try to be sexual- no, that would make me dirty, make me a whore. and so when i broke up with him, i told him that it was because he had turned me into a lesbian- that i was so desperate for affection that i had ran to the gentler sex. of course, this is ridiculous- i was queer before he had even come into my life, something that excited him, "as long as he was allowed to watch".

so now, i enter my empty apartment, trying to erase all thoughts of brandon from my mind. it's hard, though. days like this, i wouldn't mind going back to him, even though he was a prick. it is hard being alone. all of the rejections in the past two years have erased any thoughts of me with someone else completely from my mind. i wanted to use my summer as a way to remind myself that i can be wanted or that i was worth something, but i am too busy and too tired and too old for that now. imagine, not yet 20 and already i feel too old. i have too much to worry about, like when my first check is arriving, or whether or not i will be able to make rent, or how in the hell i'm supposed to get to london in the fall. i don't have the time to belong to anyone ever again, especially when i feel like a large part of me doesn't even exist. maybe one day i can revive that part of me, one day when i have the time and energy to want to be vulnerable again.

it's funny. i used to think that kid was asking me if i was "mali's grrl" but who the hell is that anymore? i don't know if im a mali or a hopper or a jackson or a stokely, but.. that's another story for another day.

freewrite exercise: bodies of light

i never finished this poem. it was was for a 5 min freewrite and not polished, but here goes:

we are all bodies of water, she told me.
weighed down, heavy, water weights
we carry our burdens in our hearts and let them sink low
into our deep black pools.

we are all bodies of water,
grounded, gravity
sinking, constantly sinking like the bodies thrown aboard
we carry them too- the ocean, the bodies, we carry all of this weight
heavy, oppressive,
in our skin, our pores.

water doesn't allow for much motion
bodies thrashed around with the tide.
i do not have control over my body anymore
heavy weight, grounded, stuck.

but did you know that once the people took flight?
their bodies were not weighed down with water
but instead were black bodies of light.
angelic, floating crowns of kinks
they did not need wings, they would only look up to the sky
look up at the sun, smile and take flight.

ive heard of suicide girls but this is just ridiculous

the cat is suicidal.

he spends his days lounging on the couch adjacent to the door, contemplating ways to escape. if you linger too long with the open door, he will sprint past you, up the carpeted hallway stairs, all the way to the fourth floor. there have been a few times where i have had to chase him up the stairwell, and i can never compare to his speed. his whole day is spent waiting for this moment, his escape.

have you ever had to coax a cat out of committing suicide? it is terrifying. oblivious to my purrs, hisses and threats, he looks down at me from the railing. he closes his eyes, pokes his head through the bars, and puts one paw out to feel the air. then another. by this, i have grabbed him before we can both find out whether cats always land on their feet.

this is why i don't like going on our roof anymore. not some strange fear that the cat will find his way up there and go flying away, but that someone else will try to. no one else seems to care abt how tempting the sky is, the illusion of no gravity. it would be so easy to put out one foot, and then the other, and then...

full house is living single

So much has happened since we moved in two and a half wks ago.

Miatta and I got stuck on the roof. In all of our excitement, we forgot to put something in the door, and well.. let's just say that there was some climbing of fire escapes in order to - well, escape. The house is full right no- we're all single and fabulous... Ashley finally came back and Najee finally got here. The internship has picked up immensely. I have responsibilities now. I auditioned for the children shows and it was super rad. I missed playing, because at the end of the day, that's what theater is all about to me- playing, having fun, loving what ya do.

Everyone is going crazy. Or maybe we were crazy to begin with. I am watching my bank account come extremely close to the $50 mark, and I am getting nervous. I have been applying for a lot of jobs and I need a phone- but it's cut off. I feel anxious all of the time. I'm giving myself two weeks to find something, and if I can't by then... I need to peace out. I just really want stability. And money.

I need some sort of piece of mind. I ran out of things to chew on for comfort so I'v been brushing my teeth for 5, 10 minutes straight. It's weird and not very comforting anymore. I want to cry all the time. I might cry right now. Najee's constant jokes help me stay positive and upbeat, though. It's been a day and she's the rock I needed to keep going, I think. It's nice to live with 3 of my best friends.

PS- I rly like letters. I enjoy writing them as well as sending them. So please give me yr address (cough- caroline- cough) and I will write you lovely letters and maybe get one or two back?