I Almost Died.
Lately, in Atlanta, it’s been storming really bad at night. It literally happened three nights in a row. Like torrential downpours, lightening, thunder, all that. So Wednesday night, I had a meeting. I went to my meeting and when it was over, I came outside and it was looking crazy. I can barely see at night, so driving in that horrible ass rain at night had me nervous. I was on the way back to the apartment where my roommate, and the owner of the car I was driving, was. I was down the street from the complex, when I realized that there was a big ass flood in the middle of the street. A car was stuck out there and there were cops around it, and people were turning around. So when I realized what was going on, I turned my ass around too! I called my roommate and told her that they had the road blocked and parked in the gas station. I was asking her if there was a back way or some other kind of way where I didn’t have to take this street. She didn’t know. She told me to basically go home and come from the other side of the street. But before I did that, I went exploring. I was too close. I just knew there had to be another way to get to the complex. So I drove around and I was on this street with a familiar name. So I’m driving down the street and I drive through some water. No big deal, its raining. I made plenty of splashes on my way back from my meeting. But then… the splashing didn’t stop. THEN the splashing was getting higher. Then I realized… OH SHIT! I just drove through a deep ass puddle. A FLOOD. Kinda like the one I was trying to avoid. -_-. As soon as I realized what was happening, I started cussing and praying at the same time. I was like “Please please PLEASE let me get out of this! This is not fucking happening right now.” Then the car just stopped. Then I started screaming at the top of my lungs like I was about to die. Why? Because I thought I was. Water started coming up through the floor and I for sure thought I was gonna die on Maple Street that night. So I call my roommate all hysterical, screaming and apologizing and wait for her to get to me. The water got all the way up to the seats, I was scared to death. I was about to open the door then I realized that wouldn’t be the best thing to do in this situation. So I just continued to freak out. Then the rain slowed down and the drains acted like they wanted to work all of a sudden and the water on the outside went away. But there was water up to the seats in the front and back, and the car wouldn’t turn back on. It was a whole mess. Of course my roommate was mad as fuck and I didn’t really have shit to say… I’m just glad I didn’t die. That was the scariest 6 minutes of my life. And R.I.P. to Lola the Camry.
The motto of the day is FYF: Fuck Your Feelings.
I finally graduated from that ratchet ass institution on May 12. That same day, I moved to Atlanta. Two weeks later, I signed my first lease and moved into my first apartment. Yes, clap it up for me. I said I was going to do it and I did it.
But now real life has set in. I have bills every month, and they don’t stop coming just because the money to pay them isn’t available. I have obligations and responsibilities now. There’s no cushion or wiggle room for fucking up. So in other words, shit is real. And because shit is real, and my livelihood is at risk if anything goes majorly wrong, I have to put myself and my well-being first and foremost before anything and anybody else. I’ve been extremely nice up to this point, trying to look out for other people if I could, and just going along with the flow of things and not really having much objection to anything. Well that shit is over. I have stuff in my name now, which means if it doesn’t get paid, my credit will get fucked up. And if my credit is fucked up, then I won’t be able to do or get shit! And I’m not about to live like that.
So the time has come for me to make some adjustments and changes to my life. I’m about to get real selfish and only worry about me. Because I’ve realized that most people I deal with are only worried about them. And that’s fine. I get it now. Because at the end of the day, I’m the one who’s gonna be fucked up when shit goes wrong. So with that being said, its all about me now. Its my way or…. there is no OR. Its just my way. #FuckYourFeelings
And as far as these dudes go…. #FuckYourFeelings too! I used to try to be a little nice to guys who approached me, even if I wasn’t interested. But that shit is over too. I’m not about to waste your time or mine, so if I don’t want you (which I probably don’t) and you continue to pursue me, you WILL get dismissed. It might be politely or it might be ruthlessly depending on how persistent you are. And if you get on my nerves, I’m cussing you out. #FuckYourFeelings
Last night I stumbled across some information that doesn’t sit well with me. Apparently, the U.S. is about to (or have already started to) legalize propaganda.
Shit’s about to be fucked up.
Propaganda is: Information, esp. of a biased or misleading nature, used to promote or publicize a particular political cause or point of view.
So if the United States legalizes propaganda, that basically means that the government would have control over all forms of mass media, and they can present any information they want, whether its true or false, without telling the public.
That shit don’t seem right.
These days, I’m totally anti-government because I know its all corrupt anyway. Legalizing propaganda just goes to show that there is other shit going on in this country that most people are oblivious to. Like, why would a country want to legalize the act of using misleading information to promote or publicize anything to its own people? Why would they want to mislead us? What are they trying to promote or publicize? Well… think about what’s on TV these days.
I won’t get into it a whole lot because people will think I’m some kind of conspiracy theorist or crazy person, but pay attention to what is going on in the world right now. Things are undoubtedly different now than they were just ten years ago. Think about the industry that has the most effect on the youth. Mass Media. That’s TV, Radio, Movies, anything that millions of people can engage in simultaneously. The media is the most powerful tool used to deliver information to the public. So if the government allows false media to be presented to the public by legalizing propaganda, how will we know the truth?
We won’t. Because they don’t want us to.
An ignorant society is a weak society.
Beautiful Girl - 2008
This young girl is so misunderstood
Even though she smiles and laughs, pretending everything is good
She flaunts her body because it’s cute and she can
And she knows that she is irresistible to any man
So she flips her hair, flashes that smile, and flirts
Thinking no one really knows that on the inside she hurts
She covers her pain with make-up, hair, and nice clothes
Because to her, it doesn’t exist if the pain never shows
So she hides behind artificial beauty and material things
Never really knowing the joy that true love brings
She fools around with guys because they make her feel wanted
And deep down she knows that they only want her body, because she flaunts it
But she lies down with them, performing any and every deed
And in return they give her something that she needs
A confidence, a comfort, a confirmation that she has worth
All of which she has been stripped of since her birth
Because her daddy didn’t love her and her mommy didn’t care
And even though they were always home, they were never really there
They tell her that they love her but what does it really mean?
Because to them, the pain that she feels is completely unseen
She has nowhere to turn to, no “safe place” so it’s said
So she finds her security in everyone else’s bed
Hoping to one day fill the void that has been present for so long
Or for someone to just tell her that what she does is wrong
Or to someday meet that angel that has fallen from the sky
The one that’s different from all the others, that one special guy
The one that treats her like a princess and loves her for who she is
The one that wants more than to be with her, he wants her to be his
But until that day comes, she’ll keep on trying to find
The one that doesn’t enjoy her body as much as he enjoys her mind
But she pretends like she has it all, not wanting to be made a fool of
Not knowing that the most important thing she’s missing is true love.
Ode to Weave - 2007
No, i dont need it
Yes, I do like it
Just cuz i weave it
Dont call me white and
just cuz i like it straight and real long
dont really mean that i’m doing somethin wrong
cuz i can rock it nappy real kinky if i want to
and still the boys be lookin at me, still they dont want you
straight weave, nappy weave, no weave at all
curly weave, wavy weave, i can wear it all
i can rock individuals all down my back
i can rock crazy colors other than brown or black
and i can wear my real hair, just wear it out
but when i dont wanna do that yall be all up in my mouth
like…yo. back up and let me breathe
i cant walk down the street without yall comin at my WEAVE!!!
Can someone explain the rationale behind what I’m about to say?
Okay. Usually, most times, girls don’t like to just have sex with a bunch of random guys just for sport. They usually only want to be with one guy at a time. So when a girl has sex with a dude, that’s the dude she plans on having sex with. That’s her D. But guys, they are never satisfied. They always want new pussy. So when a guy and a girl have sex, then the guy gets bored and moves on to another box, the girl is kinda just stuck with no peen. But if that same girl, who was neglected and pushed to the side, goes out and has sex with another guy… then she’s a hoe. But what is she supposed to do? Just wait around for the guy to want her again? I don’t get it. And don’t say “its a double standard” because that’s bullshit. I want a real reason. Its not about society… its about how men and women treat each other. Can I get some answers?
I’m not clear on something.
I called this dude the other night because I hadn’t seen him in a while and I wasn’t doing anything, so I thought about him and wanted his company. So I called him and asked what he was doing and he said he was chillin… then I told him I was bored. And he was like “so you only called me because you bored?” and I was like “….yeah.” And he felt some kinda way about that and didn’t wanna see me or talk to me.
But I need some clarity. Why do people get offended when you hit them up when you’re bored? If I’m bored and I hit you up, that means I thought about you. It means I want your company because I’d rather be around you than by myself… How is that bad? Why is that something to be offended by? And am I supposed to hit you up when I’m already having fun? That doesn’t make sense. Or would you rather me hit you up only when I want something? Because that’s a problem too. So if I can’t hit you up when I’m bored… when can I hit you up?
Who Am I?
My last post about lightskin vs darkskin triggered a thought that I have had before… Who are my ancestors?
African Americans have a history that is unlike any other group of people. Even the term African American was invented to describe the Black people in America. We didn’t come from here, this is not where are origins are. But what makes me sad is the fact that I don’t know where I came from. My history is unknown to me. My lineage is a mystery. And I don’t like that.
I want to know which part of Africa my ancestors are from. I want to know who they are, what they did, if I have any more relatives there (which I’m sure I do), I just want to know. And it really hurts my heart that I will never find out.
It’s not fair.
I remember in elementary school, 3rd grade I believe, we did a project about our family lineage. I asked my grandfather about his grandparents and he told me about his grandmother Mary-Eliza, who was Cherokee. I thought that was so cool. And I was happy with my research because I had found out something that I didn’t know about myself and my family. Then I went to school. And I remember talking to a girl about my project and I told her that I went as far back as my great-great-grandmother. Then she gave me this look and was like “that’s as far back as you could go?” Going to school with white kids, they all knew their family trees. They knew everything. They could trace their family members back to Ellis Island, where they had the names of everyone who immigrated to America. So they knew exactly where they came from. But MY ancestors didn’t come to America on a ferry, they came on a different boat. And they definitely didn’t sign a book. And they damn sure didn’t come at their own will for better opportunities. My ancestors weren’t immigrants. They were slaves.
And because THEIR ancestors stole MY ancestors from their home, now I don’t know MY history. And that is not okay with me. It hurts. Ignorance is not bliss. It’s sad.
#teamLightSkin vs #teamDarkSkin
So I went to this forum yesterday: #teamlightskin vs #teamdarkskin. And it was interesting. There were a few things that were said and done that caught my attention.
First of all, I want to say that the whole lightskin v darkskin thing is a long lasting issue within the black race, dating back to slavery. And we all know why. Darker people in the field, lighter people in the house. But I wonder if people realize that the whole lightskin darkskin issue stems from the REAL issue of self-hate. Something that was taught to us by white people. African AMERICANS are not the only black people in the world, but we are the only black people who have a divide based on our complexion. And that’s not the African in us, its the American. This country’s founders were haters, to say the least. And to this day, this country thrives on the separation of people and the need for one group to be superior to another. That’s why racism is still such a big issue. Because someone has to be better. And because we are in America, we have adapted an American way of thinking. Too bad the American way of thinking is filled with hatred towards us. So inevitably, we have adapted a hatred towards ourselves.
In the forum, a girl asked where she would be on the color spectrum from light to dark because in her country, what we call lightskin is what they would call brown. So the boys at the front of the room lined up from lightest to darkest. And it was interesting. The first thing I noticed was the ends of the line. Nobody wanted to be on either end, so nobody wanted to be the lightest, and nobody wanted to be the darkest. Hmmm. I find it interesting that people claim to be proud of their skin, yet nobody wants to be too light or too dark. So we all want to be brown. We all ARE brown, just different shades. Another thing I noticed when the boys were lining up, was the fact that some of them could not believe their own placement. “Hell naw! I ain’t this black!” is something I heard, while the lightskin boys on the other end kept moving closer to the middle, like they were darker. It showed me in a real life example that our own perceptions of ourselves are off. What we think we are, and how we think we look may be different than what others see. I am no exception. I think I’m a light brown color. That’s what I see when I look in the mirror. But to the world, I’m lightskinned.
Now, everything I’m about to say is from a lightskinned point of view. I’ve never been darkskinned so I can’t relate. But in the forum, a girl said that darkskinned people are more defensive about their color. I agree. Someone also said something that I thought was a good observation. He said that if he stood up and said “I love dark skinned women” everyone would clap, but if he stood up and said “I love light skinned women” there wouldn’t be as much applause. And that’s true. Because the minute you praise a dark skinned person, everybody joins in like Power to the Melanin. But when you praise a light skinned person, there is going to be some animosity in the room. And one girl said that the reason for that is because Black people tend to uplift each other, but there is a resentment towards lighter skinned Black people because they have always been favored over the darker skinned Black people. Again, going back to the slavery days. Out in the fields, they had to have each others backs. But the lightskinned slaves weren’t out there picking cotton in the fields with them (BITCH YOU WASN’T WIT ME PICKIN IN THE FIELDS!!! - Rick Ross Voice). This may seem like an outdated issue, and it should be, but its not.
I feel like dark skinned people are uplifted and taught to love their complexion, no matter what people say. Black is Beautiful. The Blacker the berry, the Sweeter the Juice. And that is wonderful. But at the same time, light skinned people are constantly brought down, like we’re not allowed to be proud of our skin. I feel like we have to shy away from the complexion conversation because people automatically think WE think we are more attractive or something. But one of the questions asked in the forum was about whether skin complexion and character traits can be related. And I think in some cases, they can. I know some light skinned people who actually do think their complexion makes them better or better looking. And I also know dark skinned people who actually do think their complexion makes them less attractive. At the end of the day, its all about loving yourself. If you are not taught to love who you are, skin color and all, then these issues will be a lot harder to deal with.
The Preference Conversation: always a touchy subject. If someone says that they prefer dark skinned men or women, no one will be offended or challenge that preference. It’s okay to prefer dark skin over light skin. But if someone says that they prefer light skinned men or women, somebody of darker skin complexion will definitely be offended or want to challenge that. It’s not okay to prefer light skin over dark skin. It seems like if you’re pro-lightskin, you must be anti-darkskin. But that’s not the case. My personal preference… I like chocolate. But Sexy is Sexy. But I am more attracted to darker men because they seem more masculine and I like the contrast of our complexions together. I also want to have brown babies. But I don’t discriminate against lighter men, I’m just not as attracted to them. But if I had a choice between two equally sexy men, one dark and one light, I would probably choose the dark one.
I could go on and on and on about the lightskin/darkskin issue, but I won’t. I think I’ve said enough. #teamlightskin vs #teamdarkskin is silly. Because we’re all #teamBLACK. Does anyone else notice that Black people are the ONLY race who hate on each other about our complexion? Also… I wonder where all the BROWN people stand on this topic… you know the ones who can’t be considered light or dark? How do they feel?
None of my thoughts are appropriate right now.
F a Job.
So I’m trying to find some jobs to apply for. And I hate this. People want to hire people who know what they’re doing, people who have worked before. But if I’ve been in school all my life, when would I have time to work? I was too busy getting this degree that everybody said I needed so bad. And now that I have it, its not enough? Now I need experience too? Oh okay. Well riddle me this. How am I supposed to get experience if experience is a requirement to get the job?
Applying for jobs makes me angry. Because I feel like I’m asking for a favor, like “please sir can I please use all this education I’ve accumulated to work for you, be an asset to your company, while you pay me less than you make?” Like. No. I’m not gonna kiss ass for a paycheck. And I don’t want to lie about myself, what I’ve done, what I’m capable of, or anything really just to get a job. I don’t think its necessary. But it is.
If people got jobs based on how genuine they are, I would be okay. But its not about that, its about how much shit you can talk and how many people you can make believe you.
I just don’t feel like I should have to fight and compete for a job. If I need one so bad, then somebody should just give me one.
On top of all that, even when I have a job, I don’t like it. I don’t like being told what to do or having somebody to report back to. I don’t need a supervisor because I don’t need to be supervised. If I need help, I’ll ask for it. Other than that I like working by myself because I know shit gets done right. Which is why I need to have my own businesses. I need to be the boss. Because I’m not a good employee.
I wrote this yesterday after Nate’s funeral, and I wanted to share it.
Love. Every time I think of Nate, I think of love. Our last conversation was about love. I was walking into the student center and Nate was sitting outside, reading a book. He spoke, like he always did, and I said “Nizzate!” That was the only time I ever called him that. Then I went inside. When I came out, he was still there. And I’m glad that he was. I sat with him while I ate my delicious blueberry muffin that I kept talking about. We had a casual conversation then he mentioned the book he was reading about love. He told me that the love we search for is actually the love that we should have for ourselves. And I agreed. He didn’t know this, and many people don’t, but I have a very close relationship with God. And recently we have gotten closer, me to Him and Him to me. And in my growing relationship with God, he told me to love myself. And I listened. I started loving myself. And now I love myself. My last conversation with Nate made me realize that. And he will always be special to me for that. I remember Nate for his swagg and positivity, and now I remember him for making me see that I love myself.
I’m happier lately. And I think I know why. Its because I’m not angry. And I’m not angry because I don’t have anything to be angry about. Usually my anger comes from people talking shit or pissing me off, but that hasn’t happened in a while. And I think its because I don’t give anybody a reason to talk shit or put them in a position to piss me off. So that made me think, well if I’m not giving a reason now, then I must have been giving a reason before. So most of my troubles can basically be traced back to my own decisions. Damn. I was so busy blaming other people for what’s wrong in my life, I wasn’t acknowledging the fact that I was the cause of it all. My fault.
But at least now I know.