duplicitous (?)

hi. i'm pam.

you're not a child anymore. pamela is your name.

i don't think pam is childish.

i do. its a nickname. its time for your name to match your age.

i like pam.

do you?

yea i do.

i don't think you really know pam. and you're entirely scared of pamela because you haven't explored her at all.

so you don't think i know me?

nope.

and how do you figure that?

you never spend time with her.

huh? does any of this even really matter to you?

not the way it used to. regardless of what name you choose to call yourself, you still don't know too much about you.

...and who are you?

i'm you.

directed by VaShtie?

....these party girls...
i tell you the truth, they are
ALWAYS so much more!

http://clutchmagonline.com/newsgossipinfo/crs-us-placers/

pay attention class.

http://www.nytimes.com/indexes/2007/12/02/style/t/index.html#pageName=curated_shorts
click on the first video...(entitled basic black)

and watch closely.
i learned:

color.
contrast.
texture.
print.
silhouette.

and most importantly, the power of drugs.

this has to end...eventually.

its 11:22pm and i'm sittin in crack city.
she's running amuck...what a pity.
who remembers the purple ribbon allstars?
everyone wanted to be in the A...even kids on mars.
her hair is wild and her convo is everywhere.
she left her panties on the train...one pair.
i am painting a woman with beady eyes.
it's really her sunflower face in disguise.
using watercolors to be exact.
pencil first, then going back over my tracks.
tonight she has a potty mouth.
i switched to ying yang twins, i miss the south.
we're heading to brooklyn in a bit.
what happened to the bone thugs n harmony clique?

...and tasha?

i keep looking at her and thinking of fraggle rock.
her brain is scattered, she just needs to stop.
sit down for a second and go to sleep.
allow her body and soul to meet.
after about a year...she has grown to hate her duvet.
i think its great, much like the martha stewart way.
fairly white and obvious quality.
her face broke out so she bought a new sheet.

she got introduced to a famous group of white boys.
and now their music...she really enjoys.
she got mad when i skipped over elanor rigby.
i just want to hear an 808 bass beat.
i rose to acknowledge mrs. olajide.
pretty woman, walked past me in her bare feet.
she's so happy because she bought some ntozake shange.
p.j. was the lady in brown, dope dope play.

its 11:40pm...and i'm still in crack city.
she's changed her focus and began a cleaning frenzy.
i just realized that the paint dried.
her lower and upper lids need to collide.
"even my conditioning has been conditioned"
brown skin lady, the original edition.
they built some new condos in her backyard.
she got free wireless because they're not too far.

karla is under the weather.
last night we slept together.

...eeek.

she's back in the room.
her crazed eyes are no longer in zoom.
she's sleepy now and has to work on sunday.
we gotta stop making every night a FUNDAY.
its 11:48...testing out rings on the blackberry.
northeastern storm is minutes away, seems scary.
i am screaming the signs of love making.
i feel ashamed...mrs. olagide has heard me sing.

she researched perfumes and their layers on google.
i want my mother's chanel no. 5, i'm frugal.
stevie demands that i don't worry about a thing.
her american apparel tights really do cling.
"i've never hated a man so much that i returned his diamonds"
she likes my necklace, got it from an old friend.
my sister emailed me a picture of her new tote.
i am going back to brooklyn, this is a joke.


its 11:57 and she is clipping her toenails.

feist makes me think.

so if i say yes...and you say yes...
then we agree.
if i say no...and you say no...
then we agree.
if i say yes...and you say nothing...
then we agree.
if i say no...and you say nothing...
then we agree.

its only when you fight back that we disagree.
...and i'm not scared to disagree.

........

gerald is open to everyone and takes
people for who they are. he celebrates obvious
good and gladly accepts everything else.
since he holds no standards for those he loves...
he is never disappointed.

i have formed you guys into my personal superheros.
whenenver kryptonite/yellow/linked bracelets surface...
i sit back and watch how you will react.
...please don't lose. no losing...its a rule.

you have to win...i always need an example.


.......

we are on the verge of a depression.
i work in luxury.
today our dollars don't stretch as far as they did last month.
what are my basic skills?
if we go back to needs...what will i do to survive?

.........

paris is so attractive.
and i keep asking why.
"what is in paris that is not in new york...?"
...well, a lot. i think.

NOTHING COMES TO YOU PAMELA.
(you have to search for everything in your universe...especially when
you claim ownership and say that you actually want something).
YOU WILL HAVE TO WORK HARD NO MATTER
WHAT COUNTRY YOU LIVE IN.
(its all the same universe).


i dunno if i am seeking spaces to mimic some blurry fantasy of mine, or to just say that i've done it.
...dunno if there is any difference.
....dunno that it matters.
me'shell chanted last night...
"today i'm getting closer"

indeed.

...........

are you looking out for me?
some people hustle their love.
cuz i'm lookin out for you.
my love is top shelf.
and it lights up the sky.

.........

all of this makes perfect sense.

...i think this applies.

i actually would love to have this in the corner of my room.
a night light with personality reminders.

soulmate?

....she inspires me.
....modern dancers wearing the skittles colors. AMAZING.
....west side story references.
....a sequined jumpsuit.
....roars of laughter and excitement.
....genius direction.

i really love her.

alicia keys + john mayer

he always tells me that you shouldn't expect anything...
especially when dealing with people.

my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at twenty six.
they had been married for six years.
the baby was one and her brother was four.

he asked his mother to come up to maryland to help out...
she had a household filled with six children and was unable to leave.
he asked his mother in law to come to maryland to help out...
she had a household filled with eight children and was unable to leave.

he says that this was the quietest and loneliest time in his life.
the few people that he expected to show up couldn't afford to leave their lives.

...

life is good.
no complaints.

audrey hepburn never looked drab.

boots and bows.
boots and bows.
boots and bows.

boots help me to stand firm.
bows hold me together.

i need boots and bows.

shade shift.

the image was proposed to me as a child,
and up until now, i had never replaced it.
as a result, i've always imagined mine to be perfectly
symmetrical and bright red.
tomato red.
MAC captures the hue...i'm
always hesitant of kissing when i wear
it. the pigment bleeds...
things get messy.
we get messy.


now i'm twenty four.
and i guess this is apart of growing up...
forgetting how that used to look,
and now understanding how it really looks.
its no longer symmetrical...i figure its
pretty damn deformed and misshaped.
the color has deepened...its now closer
to crimson.

i think its ugly.

newmuseum.org

...what i liked...

how timely.

a beautiful mind

Paranoia is a disturbed thought process characterized by excessive anxiety or fear, often to the point of irrationality and delusion.

More recently, the clinical use of the term has been used to describe delusions where the affected person believes they are being persecuted. Specifically, they have been defined as containing two central elements:

1. The individual thinks that harm is occurring, or is going to occur, to him or her.
2. The individual thinks that the persecutor has the intention to cause harm.

.....

Schizophrenia, from the Greek roots schizein (σχίζειν, "to split") and phrēn, phren- (φρήν, φρεν-, "mind"), is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental illness characterized by impairments in the perception or expression of reality, most commonly manifesting as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions or disorganized speech and thinking in the context of significant social or occupational dysfunction.

......

there lies no difference between my world and the real world.
its all the same.

here to stay: (i know this is forever)

parents that really love me.
neon.
brilliant siblings.
feel good fabric.
these dancing hips.
this amnesic heart.
the living word.
stefani's eyes.
fresh bouqets
seven perfect women.
all movement in the sky.
text + color.

here today: (i adore today...hope to have forever...but i do understand if its fleeting)

pantone #660099.
my waistline.
his way of loving me.
the bookstore on 42nd and 6th.
faith in the unseen.
manicures.
fingertips.
blurry faces.
sartorialist.com.
paulo ceolho.
exciting distractions.

fading away: (mission accomplished...or aborted)

ugly people.
stilettos.
atlanta, ga.
crowds and large groups.
oprah.
wandering.
jellybeans.
vogue.
the color gold.


...........

if i wish to stop walking backwards...then i just have to turn around.

...........

my head is the size of a blimp.
no one ever wants to walk down the same side of the street as me.
i always walk alone. i still yell at passer-byers across the street...wishing
them lovely days and safe nights. most just pretend not
to hear me and stare straight ahead. few glance my direction.
it doesn't bother me...i am certain that they all see me.
i have never ever seen anybody walking down the street that
even slightly resembles me.

my head is rather large...although i
do suppose that my body looks like theirs. linear.

this morning a little girl was walking towards me.
we were sharing the same side of the street.
i could barely control myself. i began to
jog...i couldn't wait another second...i just
had to know what it felt like to "brush shoulders"
with someone. her dress was stark white with
a lace overlay. she marched in her patent
leather mary janes and rosette trimmed bobby
socks. for a millisecond, i was concerned
that her chocolate skin threatened to
stain her gleaming garments.
this child's face was a perfect circle,

i was immediately thankful that everyone else always
walked on the other side of the street.
no one compared to the perfection of this
girl...and i had the privlege of walking
next to her. me and only me.

one more block to go.

her little short legs seemed to
move so slowly. if she could
just grow tall for the next
15 seconds...i would be that
much closer to walking past God.
i quickened my pace.

her curls bounced with each step.

only one more exaggerated step and
i would be directly parallel to
my first love.

she began to walk slower...
her eyes stayed low...she
was fixated on my doc martens.
i began to clear my throat...
uncontrollably and at the top of my
lungs i screamed
"good morning God!"

....i couldn't help it. it just
came out. loudly.

she took a step backwards,
lifted her eyes, and peered into
mine.

her voice sounded the
way she looked...sweet.
"...do you love me?"

i didn't think first.
"i think so."

...she squinted her
eyes, and a wide smile slowly
began to spread across
her round face.
"well, i think that your thoughts are true.
so that is good to hear. thank you, i love you too"



it's now 2:37pm.
and i've been seriously thinking about it...
and if i die today...i won't complain.

so i say today.

being awakened by the moon is much more personal than the sun.
i'm apart of something exclusive and mature.
not everyone can handle this.

i want to.

.....
it isn't completely full.
one edge is slightly straighter than the others.
a tiny chord at the bottom has been sliced away.

a prot'eg'e sits not too far below.
she is petite and cute.
and she twinkles more than shines.

i know that its fraternal twin is lurking nearby.
the backdrop says so.
...its blue...blue like a sailor suit.

and these flighty nomads tell all.
...they're pink...pink like cherry blossoms...
i am certain that the twin will be arriving shortly.



the moon is the prettier twin.

twins...

i know...it's uncanny.

new. new.

i had never seen anything like this before.
and i had to watch closely because everything moved
so quickly. there are times when the sky can
create a reflection that makes me believe
that an ocean is nearby. i begin to imagine
that the sun/moon is sitting on top of water...
and the exact image that i see on top, mirrors itself
perfectly below. clouds are always involved
in this illusion. they serve as a substitue for the water
that the reflection sits on.


for some reason, i couldn't stop thinking
about me giving birth to my first child.

thick nebulous clouds covered the moon.
it was orange (the moon).

the moon was steadily lowering, and it would ease its
way down below the clouds. but as
soon as the moon shifted down, the
clouds did the same. it was as though
they were gradually moving together while
alternating turns. just above the horizon,
the clouds got still, and they sat just high
enough over the open field so that i could
insert a full moon between the atmosphere's ceiling and
the floor. for the 5 seconds or so that i saw the complete
moon, it occurred to me that i had never really
thought about or imagined moonsets.

i try to make it a point to be outside when
the sun goes down...
but now i'm thinking that it just might be worth
it to be in north carolina on my parents back porch
at 5:00am every morning from now on.
(or at least once a week).

only you mr. duncan

...



wow.

*note: yes i do recall saying that there would only be one time white WOMEN
were featured on my blog. these, my friends, are children.
there is a difference.
for pamela surely loves the kids.
thank you.

where is he now? because i really liked him then.

"aye slim. SLIM...redbone.
....oh you just don't hear nobody?"

"i hear you. that's just not my name"

"i know its not...but i had to get your attention somehow.
....can i holla at you for a second?"
"you've been hollerin"

"true. true. i see you a lot. you go to kennedy?"

"hmmmm...this is my first time seeing you"

"aint nobody stalkin you! you're tall as hell... so i see you.
...damn i aint think you'd be mean"

"i am not mean...cautious. yeA. i go to kennedy"

"you a senior?"

"nope. junior"

"ok. ok. about to be done in a year. so you know
phil, nelson, sean, and them?"

"yup. philip is my brother"

"that's how i know you. you be with them all the time"

"mmmhm"

"forreal, thats my man. youngin and i go back to 4th and delafield.
but you a montgomery county girl. you dunno about that"

"dude...you act like i've never been to dc"

"you prolly go to the white house area. i know u don't be around my
way"

"....whateva"

"i'm just sayin cuz its true. don't get mad. i don't wanna
make you mad. OK OK...so you know about 4th and delafield"

"i'm not mad at all. i just know thats where philip
grew up...he reps faithfully."

"its real out there. thug livin though. you better of here in
good ol silver spring. its where you're supposed to be"

::silence::

"well...you aint talkin. and i know that i'm just a nigga from
4th and delafied, but i like you. i'm glad i caught you alone.
your girls too loud and they run they mouths too much. i just
wanna get to know you. can i hit you up sometime?"

"it doesn't matter where you're from. we just like
who we like"

"....yeaaaa we'll see"

"yea we will. if you're cool you're cool.and if you're wak...
well...you know. but yea. we'll see. you gotta pen?"

"nope. i'll rememeber it"

"ohhhhhkay....301.460.6965. young, please do not call my house late"

"i wouldn't do that"

::silence::

"wow....so you booked me. and i dunno your name"

"you know my name"

::pause::

"ughhhhh....nah, i really don't"

"well you're PAM, and i guess that you'll just learn my name when i call"

"when did i say my name? i don't like that. what's your name?"

"you're rushing me. you will hear and say my name a lot soon enough"

"oh will i? so we just about to be best friends?"

"hopefully."

.............

riding into work yesterday, i watched 3 little boys try to holla at
this young girl. the boys looked to range from 12 to 15, and the
girl looked 13. IT WAS THE BEST CONVERSATION I HAD HEARD IN A LONG
TIME. the kids were crackin jokes...making her laugh...askin her for her AIM...
gettin on her back about drinking a red bull so early in the morning. and
all four of them were so comfortable with one another. she was really
holding her own to have three guys in her face. in those 4 stops...
they all found out who went to what schools. what grades they were in.
that she was a dancer. that one of the boys was headed to downtown
brooklyn to go to court. mutual friends. and when it came time
to part ways...sis decided that she didn't want to exchange AIM
info. so they left each other...and it was all love.

i didn't see any judgement take place.
and it was nice to watch.

it made me realize that some of the most honest and sincere
approaches by men came before i turned 17.

square sanctuary.

dreams come true in my bedroom. my creme colored walls adorned with white
spackle remind me of the beauty that lives in imperfection.
pastel, sheer, vintage gowns hang from my closet door.
the exact uniform of my guardian angels.
three window panes extend about three quarters the length of the wall.
and when i look outside my window i can see the half narrow world.

i have yet to purchase a chandelier. i figure that when i
do, light will bounce into every crevice and corner.

"the secret lives of men and women", uniqlo edition 3, metropop,
pop art post-its, pens, karla's congratulations card,
magnetic strip, dusty green mirror, used
matches, lady guadalupe, empty wine bottle/flower vase, unopened nano,
girbaud visuals, incense dust, flat iron (new member), paige sabrina,
holy bible, manni the mannequin, rainboots, iron pills,
clinique bag, and the shiny silver introspective and
magically exposing spotlight.

all of these participants cooperatively sit in my windowsill.

my closet is filled to capacity, but my brain is not.
so just is case i wish to match the two,
i have a couple of over-sized hat boxes that store my books.
...i should open my hat boxes more often.

my platform bed takes up about 65% of my floor space.
which is fine, its the one clearly defined space in this
overstocked cube. with it pushed against my glasses
for the outside world, i wake up to the sun each and
every sunny day.

a baby pink crenalyn skirt (tu-tu) serves as wall art.
it hangs high.

shoes paint seeds purses makeup needles binder clips
safety pins notebooks magazines barrettes and cds
are the glitter that make this small sanctuary sparkle.


a cubicle has never looked or felt so good.

this place.

if i wake up and i'm surrounded by sunflowers....i just might feel better.
this is a clue that i will survive today.
i love it when i turn my head to the left.
i am then staring at these rows and rows of calming green stalk.
green heals.
primary green.
no matter how i may shift or move, everything obediently
grows around me.
my being here doesn't inconvenience anyone or anything.
they prefer that i'm here.
and i am grateful...to be chosen as someone's preference encourages me to live.

so i come here to lay.
yellow. brown. black. and green.
primary green.
the blue sky serves as the perfect canvas for
my sunflowers to lay against.

the wet, bug infested soil that i press against doesn't even bother me.
it's all odd...i know.
but i need all of this to breathe.

breathing is a choice.
this place helps me to make my decision.

i've. got. to. change.

me: ever go through unfocused periods?

him: hmmmm

him: yeah, but i would say that they were still controlled

me: .....sigh

me: i have so much work to do

him: when you zoom out it all makes sense

me: well said.

me: but how do i zoom out?

me: TEACH ME SENSEI!!!

him: time.

him: years of trial and error.

him: don't hold back on yr pimpin.

him: put yrself out there.

him: fearless.

him: fake it till you make it.

:)

cute right?

anthem.

Harder,
Better,
Faster,
Stronger.

Work it
Make it
Do it
Makes us

Harder
Better
Faster
Stronger

.....great thoughts daft punk.
.............THANK YOU kanye.

welcome back sunflower face.

i've just gotta put it out there...

1. jewelry is out. my clavicle is my necklace of choice.
2. checking luggage is hella 90's.

...enjoy your day.

i have a date.

this is going to be our first formal meeting.
usually, we just glimpse one another in passing,
and choose not to stop and speak.
i feel like he will be a worthy conversationalist...
he just seems like he has something to say...
i figure i'll leave enlightened.
so i have decided to arrange a date.
i approached him.
and he conceded.

we are to meet at 11pm, i've invited him for
a cup of tea at my kitchen table. i know, the hour
does seem a bit odd for strange company...
but i do feel a sense of comfort and familiarity
with him. anyway, 11 o'clock is around the time
when i am closest to aligning my many mes...
right on the brink of late night. i want to
speak with him openly and honestly...to sincerely
mean the words i choose to say. 11 is good.

i'm not going to dress up for this. just gonna keep
on these house clothes with my head scarf. what i
wear won't make the least bit of difference.
this isn't surface talk...i could care less
about where he is from and how he became who
he is (...well, i only care slightly, this is
partially relevant).
this is one conversation that cannot be
rooted in vanity...i pray that i am able to speak
clearly about my feelings. i am certain that he will.
well...i assume that he will.

he strikes me as one that will say what he means
and mean what he says. i can appreciate that.

so now i am waiting anxiously.
sitting on the side of the bed looking at my toes.
the clock reads 10:53

my stomach needs to be fed...
...i'd much rather lie here in bed...
all my nerves "feel" dead...
hella fears i expect to shed...
reopening wounds i've already bled...
okay, now i'm starting to dread...
what lies immediately ahead...

its 10:59...and its about that time...

for a cup of tea
with(in)security.

i wish

i could skip the emotion of excitement altogether
since i am so intimately familiar with the end of this story.

my faith used to be the size of a mustard seed.
....i believed.

agnostic thought now makes sense to me.
life experience is my new doctrine.
something is out there...
perhaps a lot of stuff is...
just nothing to get excited about.

so i've decided!

there are people that adapt to their environment...
and then there are people that create their environment.

it seems most wise for one to successfully
balance the two.

but i'm really only interested in the latter.

bienvenido a mi mundo.

(if you only speak one language...and you're content with that...get out.)

paparazzi

....i just wish to lead a normal life.
LEAVE ME ALONE!

...better yet...just close your eyes.
i did a long time ago.

the commune...

sigh...i really love them.
i'm down for having all of their babies.















...can't forget diddy. ALL THE LADIES SAY "OWWWWWW"
heh...

love, tabby cat.

i'm a partially blind, overindulgent, tabby cat.

i should be agile and flexible...
but seeing that i just recently lost my sight...
i'm severely disoriented, and forced
to navigate around everything that jumps into my path.

..no, its not like this chair in this bedroom just
fell out the sky...its been there for years.
but since i've lost my sight, again,it takes
a moment for me to readjust.
oh yes yes, i remember now...two steps
forward, two steps back...
...it doesn't take long for my mind to
recall how to get around.
...with me being blind and all...again.

i eat whatever makes itself available.
i prefer food from the table.
it is what i like best.
but if there is no table food...
i'll scrounge up crumbs from the floor.
...i have to survive somehow...

but when the table food is there...i eat.
i eat a lot.
i eat until i make myself sick.
i always end up sick.

my bedroom has bright white
walls with fluorescent lights.
the light beams run the length of the ceiling.
i can sense when the light switch is on,
i sweat and shut my eyes tightly.
even though the heat is a bit uncomfortable,
it's still pleasurable.

.... i cry silently when the lights are turned off altogether.

i sometimes wonder if i stop eating the table food will i see better?
will i move quicker?

...perhaps i can just remember how i got fat
..how exactly i got stuck in this bedroom altogether?

its good to know how this happened...when this happened...
it'd be nice if i could see myself getting out of this bedroom.

for claude.

she keeps saying that i am hiding from her.
...perhaps i am, but only partially.
it's my physical make up...there are some things
that i honestly cannot change.

it was so weird to her her say those words.
i mean it is obvious...at least i think its obvious.
she has to know that the only reason i breathe is
because of her.
it's her light that allows me to live.
i need her to exist.

she is above me...bigger than both me and most.
its only about once a year where i am forced
to shed skin for her. and she loves to see me naked.
not that she has requested for me to expose myself...i
just get this odd feeling like i will die if i don't.

it's as though my soul is begging me to be real with
her...real with myself. and during this time i am simply
quiet and still. this is when she chooses to listen
the hardest. she listens to me...and the best that
i have to offer her is my blank and empty silence.

in no way am i puffed up or adorned.
its just me...and she listens...she treasures me
honesty...which apparently is only heard when
i am silent.

the fact that she respects anything i do is an honor.

its not that i ever intentionally wish to hide from her...
i guess it just happens. perhaps i remember that
she has seen me naked...and i can't even stand seeing
myself naked. i'm ashamed. so i suppose i try to cover
what i don't like about me...and that is quite a bit.

what i don't get is how she seems to love every inch of me.

she is the sun.
i am just a tree.

you better lose yourself in a moment...

its not by happenstance that they're my friends.
usually birds of a feather certainly do flock together.
...granted, i may be the runt bringing in the rear, but
i still am apart of the unified progressive movement.
we fly.

.....


http://www.redbullbigtune.com/
he won first place


http://www.cutandpaste.com/events/
he won second place



i love one dearly, and i am enjoying learning the other.
...champions for NYC competitions...crazy!
...its been a good week.
and i am truly inspired.
when moments come...it only means anything if you're prepared.

i continue to pray for my discipline.

i just slapped the hell out of Confused...

she stays wearin those same rainbow colored overalls with elephant gray shoes.
she can't pick a color, so she wears them all.
and her feet are literally stuck in neutral.
its a sad thing to watch...
so she got slapped.

i decided that its up to me to get her moving.
us being so close and all.
so i gave her some physical contact.
slapping is more effective than a push or a shove.

it sends the message that you're serious.
and i am.

neon is to sex as purple is to love.

its not so much the color purple,
but more like that color purple.
this purple is special!

it demands a smile on my face. looking at it makes
me hungry...i can taste it when i see it. the energy
becomes electric, my senses are engaged.

george clinton worships this purple.
it becomes absolute sin when dropped into a black backdrop.
catherine malandrino agrees...she used the colorway in
her new fall/winter collection.

perhaps times have changed...but no crayola
box i ever owned (and i went up to 164) hosted it.

i always know it when i see it...i feel better...
and soon after, see better. i'm not so sure if
its been captured by food dye.
..maybe fruity pebbles have a matte version.

if it is satin, you may get aroused.
rayon...all out dirty.
it really is how i imagine good sex...

just like prince and appollonia.

mamicita

i LOVE her.
i had to love her because she chose to love me.

i told her that she is BEAUTIFUL.
she ducked her head, fell into
my thighs, and wrapped her arms
around my hips.

i was in motion, and she moved with me.
she had completely collapsed into my
body, and walked with my rhythm.

i rubbed her back and thanked
her for the open affection.

i needed and appreciated her love.
i am better.

my phone kept chiming every minute or so.
i think.
i turned over trying to avoid being fully
lifted out of my sleep. not too long
after, i opened my eyes and intensely
stared at myself in my stainless steel
lamp. as badly as i wanted to shut my eyes,
something wouldn't let me.
while frozen, i heard a man scream
"AYE nigga, you need to jump on that hoe...
i NEED you to jump on that hoe!"
i still hadn't blinked.
my shiny nose had become hypnotizing.
i closed my eyes.

by the time i had opened them again,
they were already filled with tears.
the sound of a gunshot deeply startles
me. i mumble a prayer, and now i am
fully awake. the clear and perfunctory
cell phone ring reminds me that i have a
text message.

i sit up...i have on no pants. the shorts
at the top of my dirty clothes pile suffice.
my cell phone reads 4:13. only a number sent me the
text message...not a person...no person i know.
there is no pre-programmed name that i am
already familiar with.
"hey beautiful. i want to link up with you.
late morn/non brunch good tomorrow?"

well, this number identity sent the text at
3:16am, so tomorrow is today, and because i
really have no earthly clue as to who this
person is...i figure that i won't respond until
my brain is working.
...brunch sounds so good.

i stand still for a moment staring at my closed
door. my nerves are uneasy, and i don't feel
alone. i turn to look behind me...long sheer
pastel (softly glowing the dark) dresses hang on my
closet door. there is no movement outside of
my two fans turning from right to left. as i
turn back around, i open my bedroom door.

i can't explain what type of foreign realm i crossed
when leaving my bedroom and entering the living
room. my sense were heightened, my stomach felt
empty, and i don't recall feeling my feet
touch the carpet. i stood both silent and still
for a moment.

shoooo...shoooo...shoooo...

the blinds were down, so only about a quarter
of the bay window could be seen out of.
i immediately became fixated on a woman
across the street.

shooooo...shooooo...shooooo...

the movements of this tiny woman were superhuman.
everything was accelerated. she was spinning from
left to right, and sometimes in complete circles.

shoooo...shoooo...shoooo...

she had on a black knee-length jacket, and her
legs were bare. with each twirl, her
black trashbag brushed the sidewalk.

shoooo....shoooo....shooooo...

a big part of me is totally fearful to turn my
head to my left. so i continue to watch her
from outside my bedroom door. i quickly
rationalize that if i don't look left then
something is going to unexpectedly scare the
shit out of me...potentially harm me.
begrudgingly, i turn...
my eyes adjust to the dark abyss...making
out bar stools, bathroom doors..the familiarity
of my home.

-silence.

i had only turned my head for about two seconds.
i looked out of the window anticipating
the twirls of my personal dradle. the street
is empty. it was only two seconds!
i run over to the window, bend down under the blinds,
and lean on the windowsill.

no one in sight.
no sound of a trash bag brushing the sidewalk.
i stand for a couple of moments patiently
awaiting her return.

for the first time since i was awakened, i
felt alone.

she couldn't get over the "tightness" of it. she
was always amused whenever i washed it...begging me
to let her watch it dry.
...what am i? hottentot by way of the black hair follicle?

i am a black girl with nappy hair. i really do try
to wash my hair when she isn't around...
but more often than not, she is lingering...
i think she pays attention to when flakes start to
surface.
its so weird...somehow her odd behavior is making
me not feel normal.

but i am normal. dammit. i work a normal job
with normal folks, where we take normal hour
long lunches, and make it a point to complain
normally. why is she so captivated?
bi-monthly, i anticipate two hours of annoyance.

"wait...its drying too quick. re-wet it"
..."so its always been this way?"
"its crazy...this really is two different
heads of hair in a matter of minutes"

we were cool.
we are cool!
real cool!
together we wish demise on all patriarchy...
smoke blunts and eat cheesecake....
joke about how we were going to explore being lesbians
with one another...
we even knew each other's bank account info, depositing
funds whenever the other is in need.

she understands my thoughts, and i take the time
to listen to hers. i genuinely care.
her rhythm is different, but i knew that she
enjoys moving her limbs. she is free...
always. and i know that she is supposed to
be...always. i appreciate her for who she
is, and who i want to be.

i love her. i love her hard.
...we are sisters.
but somehow she always makes me feel like
an attraction when it comes time to wet my hair...

i've come to loathe what it takes to accomplish
a clean scalp.

i don't trip when her long yellow stringy
strands are everywhere in my apartment.
i'm used to cleaning up stuff that is out of
place...no biggie for me.

she is my pusher.
she does her job and does it well.
i am always being escalated and elevated.
she takes me to higher levels...


i love and admire her so much that its okay
that i hate her only twice a month.
i figure that's pretty normal.

family values

the man that i love is black.
he refers to himself as a "country
boy from alabama". he is the hardest
working person that i know. his mother
is a retired schoolteacher, and his father was
a postal worker. Just to keep busy, his father
chooses to run the early morning route for the
local paper. they are good people that raised
a good man.

and i'm a good woman. although my memory
of them is faint, i think my parents gave me
a pretty solid foundation. i moved to the states
at the age of three. quite confused, i left behind
my beautiful young mother. she was my loyal playmate...
and she loved everything about me.

the most vivid
memory i have of us is her brushing away my black,
curly bangs out of my eyes. she would always jump
back and cover her eyes as if she were being blinded.
she'd scream that i was too beautiful to stare at.
i would jump on top of her struggling to force her
hands down. "open your eyes! look at me mother! i am
not too beautiful". she would giggle and grab me...
while tickling me she'd always end the frequent session
saying "you're exactly right, no such thing is too
beautiful. you, my dear, bless the earth".

i only remember that my father had black hair. i think
i have hair like him. my husband adores my hair.

tomorrow my family and i are going back to visit my
original home qatar. i left when i was three, and i
haven't seen my parents in 26 years. they had no desire
to leave, and i was not to return until i got my PhD.
we do keep in touch daily...through letters, and more
recently email. i am their oldest child...i have younger
sisters that i have never met in person. i stare at their
pictures daily. our same bright eyes...olive skin...and
curly black hair helps me to better remember mother and father.
we surely bless the earth.

it's weird, any stranger will know that these people are
my family...whether judging by pictures or in person.
its obvious. i see how my sons look like me, but most
people do not. they look like their dad...he and i
look nothing alike. although sometimes i wish we did.
i want any random person to know that my boys are mine
without having to say a word. it's nice to resemble
who you love.

either way, my parents will be thrilled to see me tomorrow.
i am now a doctor.

God gave me a song.

my father is rich
with houses and land
he holds the power of the world
in his hand.

-

crayola would call her skin sienna.
the most accurate blend from mom and dad.
whenever she smiled her entire body lifted...
she became taller. in exchange and out of
gratitude, you grew too. without saying a
word, her eyes told you everything that
you needed to know. her secrets...her pride...
her concern...when they spoke, you watched to
listen.

despite her foul mouth, flailing and aggressive
limbs, scrapes and scars, courtney's perfect
and undeniable beauty overruled her razor sharp
edges.

strangers only saw a stunning little girl.

....

my father is rich
in houses and land

-

dad's practice was amongst the top.
after buying a spot on old national,
everyone knew my dad was rich.
LOWERY esq...attorney at law
only dad's name on the modest canary colored sign.
he's my dad...so everyone knew that
i'm rich too.

my house was custom built.
dad chose the plot, and we
created our very own neighborhood.
dad. mom. my brother. and me.

6 bedrooms
5 bathrooms
2 stairwells (one spiral)
1 guesthouse
1 apartment
1 pool

that was home. this was my world.

dad taught me the bulk of my lessons outdoors.
i learned to cut the acres of grass just like him.
i practiced outside alone to play basketball just like him.
he even taught me how to cut hair.
i would practice on my little brother's hair...now all the men
of the family get shaped up by me.

mom loved me hard.
and dad was raising me to be just like him.
strong.

....

mom's gone now.
she died not too long ago.
dad had been killing her for a while now.
he's too strong.
yes...she did raise my brother and i...but
its really always been just me and dad.
we yell the loudest (he taught me that).
i trust mom's in a good place.
she was good.
obedient and good.


she whispers:
i've been washed in the blood
of the crucified one
i've been redeemed

.....

it's been dad and me for a long time now.
i am losing more of him each day.
his soul is vanishing...even quicker now.
i know that my brother wants to be anywhere but here.
he misses mom.
and i do too.

the house isn't the same.
scattered, outdated law papers...
a refrigerator filled with leftover takeout...
mildewed bathrooms...
this isn't home.

my father is rich.
and i have no clue where to begin.
but i too need redemption.
i need my mom i barely knew.

the morning after....1 year later

i need to define myself...visually.


rjr said "i let go...and when i do, it's good"
..."i learned how to not get in my own way"
...."but that's my process, it works for me".

okay. i'm pretty sure that this works for me too. ?
it's becoming hard for me to deem the work i produce as "good".
when it comes to me...my judgement is increasingly foggy.

..."i mean i do honor techniqure, but i know my limits"
i don't.
"many of the most formally trained artists must unlearn what their
hands now do instinctively. they have no style".

well this is perfect for me!
i know nothing...so i know everything.
right on track right?
completely and utterly right.
(neither left nor wrong).
it's all right.

its alright.

........
hmmm.

whoa.

....exactly the chosen family i wish to be apart of.

a haiku for you.

her light is blinding...
brilliant colors dance around...
i am overwhelmed.

again.

same man.
different show.

the first time it was raw + pure.
i was touched in a way that i had never
been touched before.
i couldn't speak + tears wouldn't stop
falling from my eyes.
he touched me.
he changed me.

i became a fighter.
my very own cheerleader, believing
that i would change the world.

he did + he touched me...
so i would too.

....
this time the intimacy had lifted.
with us being in a bigger city...
and having more people surround us,
i was distracted.

it just wasn't the same.
i do still feel his tenderness from the first time +
i am changing the world.

...it only took one time.

thank you pierre.

this is probably the only time white women will be featured on my blog.
enjoy!

.

Attraction inspires and influences a lot of what i do.
...or want to do.

i wonder how things would pan out on a daily basis if
i operated around the opposite. reacted from disgust.

....
the same i suppose.

i understand.

it's just me.

i am looking to no one
to be with me every inch
of the way.

it's the pam show.
(the best audience is none at all)

today this clicked.

phenomenal writing.

Spelman, thy name we praise
Standards and honor raise
We’ll ever faithful be
Throughout eternity
May peace with thee abide
And God forever guide
Thy heights supreme and true
Blessings to you.

Through years of toil and pain
May thy dear walls remain
Beacons of heavenly light
Undaunted by the fight;
And when life’s race is won
Thy noble work is done
Oh, God forever bind
Our hearts to thine.

....
two years out, and i will still have fleeting moments that make me miss it all.
i couldn't stop humming this all day.

hmmm... i have chubby hands.

pointing more often may help me slim down.
...or perhaps longer finger extension when giving high fives.

committed.

about two weeks ago i wrote out
my short term/long term goals.
my biggest issue is discipline...
and if i don't correct this now,
then my coming days will be much
harder than they have to be.

.....

how do you place constraints
around something that is
boundless and infinite?
someone watched the sky...
created a sundial...and
formulated a way to tell
time. time was captured.

how do i know time got
caught correctly? granted,
even though the horizon
does seemingly stop the sky...
i still know that there
is more sky out there.
i think i know...

years became days, days
became hours. hours became
minutes, and minutes became
seconds. and this is our
calculated understanding
of time.

lately, nothing about my timeline
is chronological anymore.
just a series of moments
(both small and big).
its hard to recall what came
first...i just know that
it happened (i think). as much as
i passively strive for order
(ha)... my ideas and thoughts
are no longer stringed in a
sequence from beginning to end.
i think of a subject and just
picture a montage of imagery.

its not so much that my memory is
fading...just my concept of time.

hahahahahaaaa.....UR NOT RELATED TO HER!

...and i TOTALLY am.

totally in sync...

so what does it mean that my friend and i
are walking in nolita...and she spots
andre leon talley at a pizzeria?
outside...on the corner...alone?

we walk by.
i get jittery...
i stop...
i revaluate...
i retrack.

i thank and celebrate him in one breath.
i end the brief meeting
by saying "let me touch you...!"
he laughs, and i shake his hand.

andre leon talley and i touched...and agreed.
perhaps this means that my thoughts on
writing in fashion need to be explored.

BIG THANGS POPPIN', LIL THANGS STOPPIN!

.........

less talking. more doing.

do these still exist?

pick up lines are so 80's.
.....

"i have traveled to a lot of countries. i mean i been all over.
and YOU could stop traffic in any of them"

"i'm sayin...ur girls see it...why don't you? i'm feelin u"

"i am starin at these men, stare at you...u got a lot of fans...
can i join the club?"

"aye ma....all these other brothas will let you walk around like this...
but ima be real...u got somethin on ur mouth...its not coming off either...
right on the right side....(i begin to wipe me mouth...)....
OH IT AINT COMIN OFF....its just a lil beauty. that's permanent!"

"u from maryland? i got a wife in maryland...ya know i got TWO wives..."
(wink)

"aye slim and lightskinned...can we make a date...tonight?"
*outside from the lightskinned...cuz we all know i am pecan tan...i kinda liked that.
direct.*

"princess....princess...CAN I WALK WITH YOU? please princess?"

"girl you got exotic lips...like, L'oreal."

"aye...aye...my man over at the juice bar wants u to come over and talk to him"

"shake it. move it. shake shake shake it. move it. aye girl, come over here"

.....
this is the worst of the worst from this weekend alone.
wak one liners...

no worries...mawzie bought me some mace.
ima start shutting men up swiftly.

there are no coincidences...

it is a stupid and unnecessary word.

who else sees this?

so i'm standing on 6th and spring waiting for the bus.
the schedule reads 8:04...my cell reads 7:59.
...so i wait.

it's hot as hell, so i stand over the grates, to let
the wind from below blow up my dress. shifting my weight
from foot to foot i observe everyone that i see.

the trendy couple that brief one another on their day.
the loud, bold kids laughing at the cops.
the brazilian looking guy that hums along with his ipod.
it's 8:00.

this man is tall and slim. he has on a white tee...long
jean shorts, jordans, and an 'A' (atlanta) fitted.
...this is familiar.
which really made him stand out...since this is a uniform of the south.

i watch him cross the street with a hugetattered piece of cardboard
flapping in the wind. as he steps up on the curb, i realize
that this is not a light skinned black man, but a middle
eastern guy. i cannot stop staring.

he walks to the side of a building...throws down the cardboard...
glances at me...
takes off his shoes...
and begins to kneel down.
'OHHHHHHHH...dude is about to pray'.
....and he does.

why here?
why now?

8:03
i stare at this man as he kisses his clever prayer mat...
sits back up...
opens his palms upward...
and does it all over again.

people walk by briefly interested...
and then proceed with their previous paces...
(humming tunes, conversing, or being loud).
my eyes refuse to leave him.
he notices no one.

a nun walks by me.
from watching her back, i can tell that she is studying this young man.

8:05
...this is random.
i begin to stare across the street.
SOMEONE IS FILMING THIS.
i look at the apartment building windows...
scan the opposite curb...
glance into parked cars.
....no cameras.

when i look back at him, our eyes meet.
he nods.
puts on his shoes,
picks up his cardboard,
and jogs across the street.

i wanted to speak to him...oddly, i felt drawn to speak.
...but i kept quiet.

he opens the trunk of a parked taxi,
and throws in the ragged piece of cardboard.
he hops in the drivers side...
and drives off.

8:08
i am growing to love new york.

this goes out to you...!

that's what infatuation is: the creation of an image of someone, without advising that someone as to what the image is.
-P.C. (you should already know by now)

seduction is a skill. a REAL LIFE skill.
to observe a person in action is like watching:

my nephew play chess
an architect sketch
a frog catch a fly
an archer aim...

it is all quite impressive.
real strategy is involved...
i don't think it comes to everyone easy.
some people learn how to carefully dance with others emotions....
and yes...students are amazing.
people that study, effectively learn, and apply inspire me.

but what about that that just know how to seduce?
no practice...just instinct.
wow.

i enjoy witnessing the act.
it excites me.
i can usually tell from the start who will win.
but there are times i am pleasently surprised.

i'm no seducer.
i'm just outright demanding.
(and a 32d)

its tough.

to truly love and live each day like its your last...
you must forget your personal history.
forget yesterday...
don't expect it to be anything like tomorrow.
expect nothing.
experiences may be similiar, but never will
they be the same.
so just act accordingly.
which means don't act.
take things as they come.
each new day is prime opportunity for change.
...if you want it to be.


----->

but what about learning from the past?
how do i learn if i forget?
i don't remember my past.
...it never happened.?

i get it.
but i don't really get it.

bryant park.

remember lunch in high school?
(*ahem...this is montgomery county)

the trust fund kids.
the kids lost in their music.
the fashionistas.
the kids with an obvious future.
the jewish kids.
the dirty kids.
the loners.
the hippies that don't eat meat.
the trendsetters.
the athletes.
the loud/obnoxious intellectuals
the girls that get down...openly.
the elders that peep the girls that get down openly.
the weed heads.
the drug dealers.
the drama club performers.
the bad asses.
the bookworms.
the bible thumpers.


this is bryant park between the hours of noon - two.
just a bigger, greener, prettier lunch room.

temples crash

my body is temporary.
...its not even really mine.
i like my assigned union.

we work.

a change of heart...

i feel better.
this makes more sense to me.

....

i grew up in mt. calvary baptist church.
rockville, maryland.
whenever i visit home, my church family
attacks me with attention. i am questioned
about subjects ranging from my career...
living whereabouts...health...
friends...folks are simply interested in
the updates of my life. the one question
that never goes without being asked:
"you thinkin about marriage? any prospects?"
i smile.
and answer accordingly.
today my aunt ella inquired.
and i responded...
"nahhhh, not really thinkin about marriage.
hate to say it, but no real prospects."
she began to reply and i abruptly interrupted her...
"actually i don't hate to say it.
i'm okay with where i'm at".
(forreal this time)
she laughed.
"girl...don't seek your man.
wait on that and let it come to you"

..........

who fights for love anymore?
who honors It?
who gets and understands love?
who has loved?
that's my biggest question...
what the hell is love?
have i really loved?
my actions make me wonder.

many people that i know are so
organic in their thinking...
...It just happens the way It's supposed to.

why WAIT FOR LOVE?
thats the last thing i want to wait on.
regardless of how It's channeled, to love
is an option. with anything you choose
to be inactive or active. I CHOOSE TO LOVE.
harder.

......

sacrifice.

......

i am supported in my decision.
"the moment we begin to seek love,
love begins to seek us.
and to save us"

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
this makes sense to me.

.......

by the river piedra i sat down and wept
paulo coehlo (always on time)
get into it.

***Moamz, u just definitely got served. bring it!

we're married...

the last picture i fell in love with...
well, we just didn't work out.
THIS guy is true love...
we'll last forever.
watch us.

i want to think differently...

lately my thoughts seem too simple.
i arrive at one solution...but don't
really consider alternate routes.
i am going to start practicing
thinking with flexibility.
bigger.
...my brain is gonna get bigger

........
planning is so smart.
planning is so stupid.

posers

this is so stupid to me...
either it is, or it isn't.
everything (esp fashion)
is so forced and contrived these days.

www.nytimes.com

i know it is in me....

and so this means that i
must take time out for me.
to find it.

....expand my thinking.

"a fool uttereth all his mind:
but a wise woman keeepeth it in
till afterwards"
proverbs 29:11

.....
be quiet.

mawzie rocks!

you'll support if you got any sense.
www.woundedheartdesigns.etsy.com

i cannot shut my eyes.

this weekend i drove a lot.
i have never driven before in ny.
i miss driving.
i dropped them off....
too awake to go home, so i drove
around bed stuy/clinton hill.

when i turned on bedford ave....
i could only see red lights ahead
of me. as i approached every single
light, it would turn green seconds before
i would have slowed down for red.
it was beautiful.
i was alone.
but not really...
somehow, i felt like i was dancing.
and in doing my part, i just had
to trust that the lights would do
their part.
and they did.
it came to a point where i was
cruising down bedford, no longer paying
attention to the synchronicity of the lights.
knowing that everything was right.

...what did this mean?

.hmmm. after turning on gates to return
home....i had to wait at every single light.
it felt like such a long time.
it was a long time.
i would catch lights switch from yellow
to red.
and then wait.
anxious.

.....senseless banter.?
no.

i have ideas and a network.

and its time to work.

honey magazine is making a comeback!

http://www.honeymag.com/modules/realtalk/2007/05/21/imus-rap-and-me/

...spread the word.

spirits go where she goes....

the ones with horns...

pretty.

black girls...

are lovely.
i love and adore my sisters.
.....

lately i have had this odd marriage
of being both remarkably confident and surprisingly insecure.
......

i think i can only get higher.
....but it doesn't have to be that way.
....i hope i only get higher.

.

sleepwalking.

listening to: flaws and all...

i like this man a lot...
and i have for quite a while now.
most everything about him impresses me.
drive.
creativity.
poise.
beauty.
and for about a year, i have been completely infatuated with him.
although our interaction is limited, i am never disappointed.
i've enjoyed (in a floating high kind of way)...every moment
we've spent together.
he studies me everytime he sees me...
almost like he is pleased with each new discovery.
...i pretend to not notice...but i do. and i like it.

i think i'm just flatterd that HE sees and appreciates ME.
...wow.

so again...i do not see him often.
he's busy. i'm busy.
we have completely different crowds...but in this case,
somehow i am Tony, and he is Maria.
(odd, with my background and history with certain types of men
...but somehow this description works for us).

different doesn't translate into bad.
granted...
i wear big party skirts.
he wears chinos.

i'm downtown. (in every sense)
he's uptown. (classic haaaaaawwLUM)

i'm quiet around stangers.
he lives for the attention of strangers.

i'm poor.
he's pretentious.

i'm consistent. (comparatively speaking)
he's spacey.

i know. nothing major. all this can be worked out.
thursday night, a quasi credible source brought up one last difference.
...no biggie.

i like men.
he likes men.?.

hmmmm...
i cry for me to today.
but i fight for us tomorrow.
(do NOT judge me)

........FIN..........

dev's text read:
"i don't just like u. i like u, like u.
that was yesterday. and i am still singing kelis today.
men are so stupid.

...maybe i am too

courtney's text read: i love you. she went to the sky.
my aunt ann is gone.
....

yesterday shawn saw her in his dream.
she was sitting up in the hospital bed
completely restored. "it was hard
shawn...but i made it through."
no more pain.

the only hurt is felt by those left behind...
and this too shall pass.


-give thanks.

mom + aunt ann + courtney

i am sending you thoughts of peace, positivity, and understanding.

....give thanks.

myra is too fast to put up...

"aint nobody's mama thinkin i'm grown...."

ha.