And another one...

http://www.breitbart.tv/?p=93373 Radio interview and http://www.breitbart.tv/?p=93283 Video. MY LINKS DON'T WORK..SO PLEASE COPY AND PASTE..I was surfing the net and came upon a radio interview from V103 Atlanta. It was the Ryan Cameron Show, and the sister and baby’s father of a woman who is bipolar were talking with Ryan about an incident involving the woman on the Marta train in the “A”. She has on a red A hat, and a half shirt cussing out an old lady. She is shouting out to Jezzy and even trying to free style. She does the “soljah girl dance.” She accuses a boy on the train that she says is from Glenwood shawty of raping her. She starts screaming and approaches the guy. Everyone on the bus is telling him it’s not worth it, because he wants to knock her out. He stands up anyway as she proceeds to yell, and smacks her in the head…her hat falls off. She freaks out, and wants her hat so she can go. The video is over 3 minutes long. It was heart wrenching. Her family was telling Ryan that she isn’t on her meds and that she is not like that. The mother of the woman called the police, and the woman was detained. She is now in jail, which is not the place she should be.

Anyway, people don’t think that mood episodes are real. Or that maybe someone is faking it. If you see that video, it is real. I wish I could reach out to her. But I’ve learned something out in the world of bipolar, and meeting other bipolar people..some of “us” are just so far gone, that sometimes there isn’t the ability or desire to enjoy human interaction. Meaning some of “us” not including me, can’t form relationships, or suck at them. Bipolar can be so bad that one loses the ability to be able to care for ones self.


I met this girl when we were both “sick”. She was black, and beautiful. Everyone who had to be “stuck” together for 72 hrs happened to be young adults. Anyway, I always observe my surroundings so I can write about it later, so I noticed that black beauty was starring off into space all of the time. I was thinking to myself “I’m glad I’m not on what she is on”. Thank my spiritual being aka God, for blessing me with a doctor who actually knows what she is doing. And thank God that I don’t really have any serious side effects. Anyway..after about a day I talked to her. I found out her name was Allison and she was 22. She lived with her parents, and didn’t drive. She never had a kiss, and she had never been on a date!! I was thinking *makeover*!! But no… her hair was cut, and I thought it was cute. I later found out that she shaved it all off in a fit of rage. I hope I never get that moody because I love my hair. Anyway..as I talked to her more and more I realized we were two different parallels. I tried to make a connection anyway. I gave her my number, and wrote her this inspirational note when I got out before her. *she was in before me* I even called to check on her when I got free and they said she wasn’t doing well. So of course I never heard from her again. I hope she is okay though..

I don’t know..Everyday I gain strength with this “disease”. I have always believed the crazy people are the ones who don’t take care of themselves. I do everything in my power to make sure I am good. I have had times where I wasn’t medicated after I figured out why I was so depressed all of the time, that I had mood episodes. Now that I am medicated I can actually say it helps. Unmedicated me would have laughed at that statement. People that know me through my past lover will probably see this some kinda way. Then my mom and my whole world one day will be privy to this information. Each day I am tiptoeing closer and closer to being okay with that. So I tell myself.

Tonight the girl in the A hat who they call soljah girl is in my prayers. I pray that she takes her meds, and I pray that she gets better. Because it is possible, just because you have this situation doesn’t have to hinder you. I know it won’t bring me down, it can only make me *cliché* make me stronger….

Cbs 46 news
but i prefer abc
I’m watching it
because they are doing
what I am waiting to do
I am watching to see
how they separate
their emotions
from the stories
they present

there is an albino girl
who is from Zimbabwe
living here in the A
she had a fight
with her sister in-law
now her family hasn’t
seen her in days
and of course
she has to be bipolar
now everyone is thinking
“another one is loose,
crazed and traveling
in a daze”
I hope she finds her way home
and didn’t give up on this
F-ed up world

Poetry Noir

I’m changing up
showing the world
my face
I was hidden
like M.J’s kids
under a blanket
but now you can see
the flesh behind
these words
i’m introducing
myself now….

I like to be private
it seems that’s exactly
how I like it
people will now
be judging my face
Not just judging what I think
but here I shielded myself
from the bloggee’s
because I don’t think they respond
if you wear a mask
because they want to see
who exactly “you” are
but if you didn’t know
I’m one of the many….stars

you don’t have to look far
because I am dark
I call it poetry noir
Venetian blinds
go vertical
in the dark shadows
of your mind
you will find my words lurking
because they are strong
something like a shot of whiskey
I’ll get you drunk
I’m all you’ll need
so step into the darkness
and let me help you see

.......

I’m at work, on break sitting in the dark in the break room. This place has a melancholy aura lately. Almost all of the teachers are quitting, and I just gave up my spot in my classroom because I “thought” I was going to summer school. And as of right now it’s not looking like I’m going to summer school. I will still be teaching, but not in any one particular classroom. Which I’m fine with because the lead teacher I’m working with now is kind of wacky. I think she dropped too much acid back in the 60’s. She wears socks with the same sandals everyday. And get this they are magic because when it rains they never get wet!!

Anyway…I am kinda down in the dumps. The economy sucks, and I am feeling it. I am confused as to why Hillary won’t drop out of the race. She is really annoying me, jeeze. I am hungry right now and I don’t have any money in my budget to buy food. I ran out of lotion and shaving crème a couple of days ago. So now I’m walking around with an ashy body, and hairy legs. I have a headache now because I am hungry. I’m about to try to take a quick nap, so I can be rested for when I have my class by myself…

random

Today was horrible
yesterday I forgot my
underwear
and I was wearing
a skirt
luckily sometimes I
surprise myself
I had an extra pair
in my purse
for a day like this
it wasn’t a thong
which I prefer
but anything
is better than
going bare
when working with
little kids
because just my chance
one of them would have
lifted up my skirt
and said
“Hey you don’t have on any underpants”


today I found out
that my
mom’s
cousin’s husband
killed himself
he lost his job
had medical aliments
and took the last shot
that he landed
it landed him in a box
that will become a part
of the earth

suicide is so poetic
it leaves its own tainted legacy
it’s so intrepid
to go out like that
one must be ready
because the ones left behind
are preoccupied with thoughts of “you”
when “you” thought “you” were
doing what was best for “you”
it’s a polar problem
should “you” live just so “they”
can have “you” around?
or do “you” die to end the void
that you feel
as you walk around on earths ground?

Tomorrow…
will be different
can’t speak on whether
it will be pleasant
all I can do is meditate
on the feeling that
everything will be alright

999.00

I want to gather up
a gang of my friends
instead of throwing up
GD signs
and crypt walking
we will have signs that say
“Donate to Foia 1 dollar
to help pay her tuition
because she needs 999.00
for two classes
that she wants to take
in the summer”
I see “homeless” people
everyday in the A
asking for change
as people sit at
intersections
waiting on the light
especially in the
West End
Lee St. lil dudes
stand out there
without tee shirts or uniforms
claming that they are a football team
just seeing if they can get some change
at least their donation this time
will have a purpose
it will go towards
my focus……..

Thanks @ Don for the inspiration word..that inspired this....

pain has a purpose
I keep trying
to convince myself
of this notion
but I would rather
have a cut or bruise
than to deal with
emotional or mental
Anguish..

I don’t cry often
I write habitually
Even though…
I wish I could
get wet from ear to ear
maybe that would help
release the water build up
instead I drench
pieces of paper
to let my words cry

pain is pleasure
I can’t explain it
it’s like getting a piercing
I’ve had more than a few
unlike tattoos
their easier to remove
pain isn’t always permanent
if you don’t deal with it though
it will come back lurking
twice as bad
should have dealt with it
when you had a chance
should have found some therapy
to release whatever it maybe
because pain isn’t forever
unless you continue to live in it
presently…..

I know about pain
to be the year of the Jordan
I’ve seen a lot of stuff
to be only 23
but the pain
only burnt me up
and left me with scars
but I am still here
to show others
how if their strong
they can heal like me
Never put bandages
on scars
you have to let them
breathe…

Unhappy with yourself

if you are unhappy
with yourself
what is the first thing
you’ll do
to ease your hurt
lash out at others
so they can also taste the dirt

if you are unhappy
with yourself
what is the second thing
you’ll do
to ease your hurt
you’ll do what
is natural for you
whether it be..
Screaming
Cussin’
Drinkin
Fightin
or
Druggin
You’ll do it all
just so the others
are being dragged through
the same mud
you soak in

If you are unhappy
with yourself
what is the third thing
you’ll do
to ease your hurt
Come up with excuses
to make yourself
seem justified
hope that everyone
around you is
just as miserable
when you need
to let the tears
you feel
cry

Because the fourth thing
that happens
when your unhappy
with things you can
change in your life
is well…..
Guess…
you _ _ _

everyday I write
I’m learning how to let go
how to let my words be
and I thank them for setting me free
a cliché I know
but besides cantankerous
cliché is my favorite word
and to be creative
I have to give up my sense
of being wrong
some famous person has their name
after that quote
don’t know who he is
but I saw it in a note
probably waiting for a reply
well here is part one
part two will come next time
still pondering over wine
because a parents unlived life
must be damage to a child
that’s why I write
to remember my life
One day my mind may be jaded
Who knows when I’ll be gone
This is my favorite thing
How can I stop my creative growth?
Just because I’m afraid
Of what my “invisible audience” might say

Invisible Audience

An invisible audience
Is what it is called
In Psychology BK
When teenage “girls”
Think that they are
The center of the world
That all eyes are on them
Starring, and never blinking
Reliving their every downfall
By pressing rewind..
Memories of their mind

An invisible audience
Isn’t always so invisible
There are actually people
In the audience
Who pay admission
Just to see you do bad
They actually bet on it
They sit back and laugh
And torture you
Have you wishing
You wouldn’t have
Tried to act
Wish you wouldn’t
Have signed on
To be apart of this cast

I had an invisible audience
I know exactly what
Piaget was talking about
Every teenage girl does
Because girls constantly
Run their mouths
How could their not be
An audience
When the main topic
Of Discussion
Is us
Every teenage girl
Across the Globe
Can feel what it’s about
Someone always watching you
Waiting for you to F up

Animal suicide

sometimes I think
birds, squirrels,
and other woodland creatures
play Russian roulette
with their furry lives
I know they hear
I know they see
My big SUV
driving right down the road
then they dash out
RIGHT
in front of me…
I know they must be scared
I know I would be…

and one time I saw
a chicken
trying to cross the road
He was at the stop sign
walking right in front of me
yet again in my SUV
so I blew the horn
he still didn’t budge
he wanted to take
his sweet chicken time
I imagined him on my plate
baked
seasoned with lemon and lime
LOL I’m just playing
he finally crossed
but now I know why
the chicken crossed
the road
because he was lost
and trying not
to be food

Every time
a animal
dashes for my truck
I pray
that it eats four leaf clovers
and has good luck
because the animals
volunteering to commit suicide
they just dash out
waiting to be struck

Bitch...those w/ the gene..take those pills..

That’s my bitch
first I know it’s
technically a female dog
but that’s exactly
what my bitch is
my female dawg
just spelled a lil different
a certain slang
but that’s my bitch
and that’s how we hang

Not all bitches
are “friends”
Not all bitches
can hang
Some bitches are bitches
because that’s their middle name
Shawty I was the one to say it first
they got the bitch gene
so that’s why
I only have a few bitches
on my team
most of them are older
and call me the same
Bitch hello
Trick good bye
It’s all in fun
until they turn
into fighting words
and me and my bitches
never go there
because we love each other
and bitch is a word
that we toss in the air
just like short
bitch is my favorite word***

*** Not really my favorite word.. That would be cantankerous…

Poem of the day..Just me typing away. Not recorded in my books. Me not giving my words a second look..

my mind has been cloudy
over the past few days
I knew it couldn’t be
but I thought that I
Had written all that
I could
But my soul itches
If I think of something
a line or subject of a poem
maybe an essay
that I think is worthy of
my thought
and if I don’t have a book
I know I’ll forget everything…

right now
I took a long pause
because I had to think
I took the power away
and my fingers couldn’t speak
my heart isn’t in control now
it’s barely beating
but I must give up now
because this isn’t writing
this is thinking….

Nite

Yeah..it's almost 12:30, and I am wide awake. I think I have some type of allergic reaction going on because my whole body itches. I keep eating sweet things, and drinking red bull. My skin is so sensitive. I need to be sleeping because my final is in the morning @ 8:00 am..and I have a hard time getting there by nine. I am not a morning person. I think I've studied enough, but who knows. I skipped one test, so my final will be doubled. I always aim for an A..But end up getting a B anyway..

I know that I must be sleepy because I'm running out of things to say. I usually don't have to think about what I'm going to write. Kinda just blurts right on out..So GOOD NIGHT BLOG!

I am like you
Or at least
You are a role model
That I look up to
The epitome of a strong woman
Who wouldn’t change her name
For a man
Now that’s what I’m talking about
Gotta throw some profanity in there
Damn..,

Strong beliefs
A well rounded character
Much knowledge
And willing to share it
I paid attention
To what you taught
Even though it may
Have seemed like
I wasn’t listening
And there was no hope
I was listening
And taking notes

It’s and Enders Game
And I’ll finish it
Blood shed and all
I’ll heal from it
Always picking
Myself up from the
Dirty ground when I fall
You’ve touched my spirit
And I appreciate it
From long distances
We’re writing
I knew you then
I know you now
You work it girl
Because you taught me how
I honestly kept writing
Because in your class
It felt so good
Growing up in those parts
Left me often times
Undecided and unsure
I’ve kept a book
Ever since then
Since I was about 16/17
So I'll never stop writing
Until I have no more days

Poem of the day..Just me typing away. Not recorded in my books. Me not giving my words a second look..

My child is oblivious
To what is going on
In the world
I remember as a child
When Bush #1
Was ruling the world
Just like W he went to war
Messed up the economy
Just like Bush #2

She has not a clue
What is happening
With the Democratic Party
How a man and a woman
Finally have a chance
To do something in history
That no man..of his character
Or woman…with her gene
Get elected into the White House
Forever changing the world
How America sees it
Founded on a land of blood shed
Robbery
Inequality and Sin

She won’t realize it now
But if this election isn’t fair
She will be riled up
In history class
When this subject is brought up

The last four poems were written for my midterm portfolio. Nobody was there messing w/ my line breaks..

Concrete Vs. Abstraction Graffiti

The first to break my heart
Although you should have been
The one to help hold it together
You were one half, the Y
That helped to create me
You were imperative to love

We are not all alike
Lost in space
Searching for our heads
Sure some rock from side to side
Terrorizing what they imagine not to be real
Giving “us” a bad name

At the lil’ green house on Pearl St.
Back in the eighties
I remember you knocking at the back door
My father’s daddy
Bringing me accessories for my ears
Clip-on’s

Standing there in front of four
Wanting that skirt
Not prepared for what I was doing
Shouting loud and moving
To a tune they did not know
Shame and disappointment

Fists Flying against my face
Because my mouth was fast
Is what you would say
Now you blame it on stress
Although you took it out on my face






Three months short of a year
You slept next to my heart
I felt every movement
You tap dancing around
I sang to you
While driving in the car
You’re more than I imagined

When I traveled to Heaven
You met me there
You said this was our new home
Just as I began to feel safe
Satan evicted us

The thoughts move at a rapid speed
If try to hush them, they scream louder
The momentum becomes too much
Especially when my chemicals aren’t balanced
The Devil summons God
And they fight over me

After I entered the world
The lady in the scrubs handed me to you
You washed my hair
And you told my mother I felt like warm clay
Just repeating the story
As you did
To keep it circulating
Just like one day
I’ll be meeting my grand-baby

I am more than one face
As I walk around in society
No one can say what I am
I’ve searched deep within
Mixed like sugar
Into ice tea
Although I am not
It’s just how others
Picture me

Broaden

Ivy leaves spread across the floor
Drenched them with gasoline
And watch them burn
Because the poison is present
And now no one will learn
From the mistakes made
Or the blood shed
History repeats it’s self
This old man once said
“They will ignore that fact
And step in the same ol’ mess”
He was right because my eyes
Were opened
To what was and what is now
I’ve opened my horizons
Allowing the change
And willingly letting go of their past
I can’t change the world
I can only broaden me

“Equivalent”

We start off the same
One a kind imminent from unlike wombs
Sharing same internal organs
Yet envy and jealousy is passed
Like a promiscuous woman
And for the female race
I am ashamed
So many unhappy faces
Tortured
“Mission Possible” bring chicks down
Bitches
Beware of them
They are hiding in seemingly perfect bodies
Predators searching for prey

Bankhead

Disorder everywhere
Drug induced psychosis
He took too much
Bankhead, Atlanta has the lot
Acid dropping from tree’s
Skittles in every color
He liked it so much
He decided to move
Away from it all
Away from what he knew

Boy meets girl
Mary Jane
His name is Bob
He has no money
Lives day to day
To get by he collects leafs from plants
He wants to drive her car
But she decides otherwise and leaves

Now he’s hit rock bottom
His blood is tainted
His nails are dirty
His hair is greasy
He needs to get clean
No where to let the dirt drip
From his body
Because the Darkness lingers
Spreads throughout similar families
Cantankerous cold
Souls go numb
Lives are ruined
Spirits are bruised
And they will never return to the beginning
Tainted by deadly sin
Hitting the pavement
Scarring up knees
Pleading their case
While reaching for the sky
And when no one answers
They lose hope

Bob is left with his mind wandering
Searching for the medicine
That will cure his passion
Not sure of which way to go
When every window is locked
And there are boarded up doors
Lost inside his angst
He searches for a rope
Finding what he searched for
His spirit forever hangs
Giving up finding the perfect key
To unlock his minds door

My Underwear

I was so in love with him. Or at least I thought I was. His name was Wil May, and I thought he had the coolest name in the whole world. I was introduced to him by my friend Lisa after a fashion show. I was in the audience with a group of my friends from school. We were there supporting Lisa. In South West Michigan, there is something called Blossomtime. Basically, every city holds their own pageant, and one girl out of so many gets crowned the queen of the city. In my friend Lisa’s case, she was Miss Eau Claire. Wil participated in the male version of Miss Blossomtime, and even though he won 2nd runner up, he was the cutest and most charismatic of the three guys that he was on the court. I was determined to make him mine once I saw him walk down that run way. After I told Lisa how well she did in the fashion show, I quickly focused things on me.
“Girl, Wil is so handsome. He should have won, but he’s black, so he had no chance. You know how your people like to do.” Lisa was a down to earth white girl. All my friends were since I was the only brown one. We always made smart ass comments to each other.
“You want me to introduce you to him? He’s really cool, and I know for sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend.” Lisa smiled really big.
“You think he would like me?” I really wanted that boy.
“Let’s walk over and find out.” Lisa led me in his direction.
That’s how it started. After Lisa introduced us, we couldn’t stop talking to each other that night. Wil asked for my number as he walked me to my car. It was a bitterly brisk February in Michigan; the wind was blowing my hair all over the place.
“Yo lil Latina mami, do you think we could talk after this? I really like your personality, and not to mention you’re really cute.” I was thinking oh my, please don’t stutter. I have a tendency to do that when I get excited. I didn’t want him to think I was a retard. I spoke carefully, “You aren’t too bad yourself. You certainly captured my attention with that six- pack of yours.” I smiled really big thinking of him parading around in his swim trunks, and me trying to look for the imprint of his penis.
“You liked that huh? Well…It’s very chilly out here babe, and I don’t want my future to freeze, so store your number in my phone, and I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” He handed me his phone. It was the latest Nextel, not like my raggedy ass Nextel phone that always chirped people even when I wasn’t touching it. I stored my number. Then I called my number from his phone.
“I got yours too. I hope you don’t mind.” At that moment I promised that I wouldn’t become a bug-a-boo. Meaning I wouldn’t call him excessively and repetitively. Bug-a-boo’s are modern day stalkers. The call too much, e-mail too much, everything they do is too much. I couldn’t go there.
“That’s cool. Lock me in, and I promise to call you tomorrow. Can I have a hug?” Wil opened his arms, and my heart melted.
“You would like that wouldn’t you? Of course you can.”
“Yeah, I would.” I was ready to jump on him anyway, but when he said that, I really had to control myself. I moved closer to him, and gave into his request. We stood there in that spot with our arms around each other for about twenty seconds. He had on Curve for men, my favorite.
“Alright babe, have a good night.” He said while pulling away.
“Drive safe.” I waved goodbye to him, and got into my car.
Over the course of the next few weeks, we talked on the phone almost every day, but usually only for a short duration. We lived in different towns about forty-five miles away, and we were both in school and involved with extra curricular activities, which made it impossible for us to see each other. Until one Friday night while I was home working on a paper. My phone rang, and my caller id said it was him. I answered it.
“Hello.” My heart was beating so fast, and it seemed as if I was struggling for air. This always happened for about the first two minutes while I was talking to him. I felt like I was going to have an anxiety attack. Even though I had never experienced one, I was positive that I had the symptoms. He sent me a text message earlier that day, telling me that he wanted to ask me something. I was praying that he would ask me to be his girlfriend. I grabbed my favorite pillow from the foot of my queen size bed, and held it tightly.
“Hey babe, you wanna go to the movies tomorrow?” He seemed enthused.
“Let me check my date book.” I laughed, trying to mask my nervousness. That wasn’t the question that I wanted to hear. You know I gave in though, “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I don’t even think I remember what you look like.” I lied. He was drop dead gorgeous. I was determined to make him mine.
“Alright how about 7:00? Can you meet me at Celebration Cinema in Benton Harbor? I’ll drive down, and since that isn’t far from Eau Claire, I figured that would work.”
“Okay. We can do that. I’ll be looking forward to it. What are we going to see?” My heart was beating at a slower pace now. I was so happy, that we were going to see our first movie.
“I thought we would decide once we got there. If nothing is playing right away, we’ll grab a bite to eat while we wait.”
“Cool. I’ll be there. Be on time cuz’ I don’t like to wait.” I was serious.
“Fiesty, just like I like em.” His voice was so sexy.
I laughed at his comment, but I took control of the situation. I wanted to play hard to get, even though I wanted to play it hard. “I don’t mean to cut this short, but I need to finish this English paper. I procrastinated for so long, now I have to knock it out. I’ll call you later on tonight if it doesn’t get too late.” I really wanted to talk to him.
“Alright babe, hit me up if you can.” He hung up first, and I was sitting on my bed wanting to be held in his arms. I threw my pillow against the wall. I wanted it to be him that I was holding tightly, but it wasn’t. I was sad. I stood up, and began to pace my bedroom floor. Our date wasn’t until the next day, but I knew I had to prepare. I opened my closet door, and walked in. I am a control freak, and since I was about four I ran my own life as much as my parents allowed. That meant shopping for my own clothes, and decorating my own room. My mom had no style. I like the clothes in my closet to be color coordinated, and organized by style and type. I knew exactly what I had in mind for our date. I picked out my outfit, skinny jeans and this cute white J. Lo off the shoulder sweater that I got on sale at Macy’s. I couldn’t decide on whether to wear white or black boots. I tried to picture myself in my clothes to find the perfect boot. I decided to go with the black boots, because I had the perfect hand bag that matched. I hung my outfit back in my closet, and started to feel anxious again. I was ready that night, but I knew I had to be patient, so I went back to finish my paper.
We met that Saturday night, and everything went smoothly. I got there about ten minutes before he did. But I overlooked it since it started snowing earlier in the day and the roads were probably bad. The drive from South Haven to Benton Harbor can be hell in the winter, because of all of the black ice. I started to think about my two friends that lost their lives in car accident in last winter. I saw their faces, remembering the last time I saw them, at my job at Applebee’s. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They died together, a tragedy almost like Romeo and Juliet. I was starting to get sad, but soon he chirped me to tell me he was pulling in the parking lot of the theater. I was so excited and nervous at the same time. I was hoping that he would still like me after our first date. I wanted to be his girlfriend more than I wanted to get into Emory University. Sad, I know. Boys before education, but I was the only chick in my clique that was still a virgin. Prom was coming up in May, and I needed a boyfriend. Like many other girls who had been in my position, Prom night I was the night I was planning to be deflowered. I was prepared to get out of my car when I saw his car pull in a parking space a few spots away from me. I grabbed my purse, looked into my rearview mirror to make sure my hair was in place. I closed my door at the same time he did. He walked towards me, and when he saw me he reached out to hold my hand. Everything went smoothly from then on. “A Walk to Remember” was playing at 7:30, and even though he thought it was a chick flick he agreed to go.
After the movie was over, we walked out of the theater holding hands. That night it was cold, but the wind wasn’t blowing its chilling breathe as hard. Hand in hand, we walked towards our cars. Just as I was beginning to accept the reality that I would be going home single, he stopped walking. I stopped about two steps in front of him, and I turned around to face him. He grabbed me by my waist, and pulled me close to him. “I haven’t felt like this before?” He sounded like he was out of breathe, and I was wondering what he was talking about. I thought maybe he was about to have an asthma attack or something. He continued, “I mean no girl has ever wanted me to make her my girlfriend.” He was smiling, and he collected his cool. I had to play it like I wasn’t ready to turn a cart wheel, but I’m sure eyes lit up as I accepted the offer. My body was shivering from the excitement. I had forgotten all about being cold. Trying hard not to stutter I said, “I was wondering when you were going to ask me that?” He gave me the look that guys give girls in movies when they want to kiss them, and right there in the Celebration Theater parking lot is where we had our first kiss.
Now that he was my boyfriend, he had to perform all the boyfriend duties. We made more time to spend with each other. On the weekends we made sure to see each other. He always drove down to see me. I liked that. He agreed to go to my Prom if I would go to his. I found my dresses on the internet. We were wearing royal blue to my Prom, and yellow to his. He liked the colors because neither one of them were too girly.
The night of my Prom finally came around, and the anticipation was killing me. I wanted to get all this dancing and partying over, so Wil and I could start our own party. Just when I was sure I was ready to leave “Back that Ass Up” started to play. That was my jam, so I had to show my man what I had. I backed that ass up, all on him alright. After I was done my hair was a mess. I just wanted to get out of that elegance, and put on some jeans. I told Wil that I was ready to go. I said goodbye to the people worthy of knowing of my departure, and we left.
My parents knew that I would not be home that night. I had my alibi all set, because I didn’t need any problems. I told them I was staying at Lisa’s house. My car
was parked right in front of her house just in case my parent’s drove by. Wil’s mom just so happened to be out of town that weekend at some psychologist convention. We had the
house all to ourselves. The hall where the Prom was held was about forty-five minutes away from his house in Stevensville, Michigan. South Haven where he lived was a good nap away so I slept all the way there, because I figured I would need my rest. I had been up since 6:00 a.m. at the hair dresser, and I did not want to poop on our party. When we arrived at his house, he woke me up. I grabbed my bag from his back seat, and followed him in. His house was conventional, and well coordinated. Everything was either black or white. White couches, black curtains. He led me down this long hall way into this huge room. This room was painted all red, with white accessories. He told me that his room was dirty, and that his mom’s room was way more comfortable. I needed to go to the bathroom, so he pointed me to a door in his mom’s room. “While you’re in there take off that dress”. Wil was taking off his tuxedo.
My last “walks” as a virgin are memorable. On my way to the bathroom I was overjoyed. But on the way back, I got this funny feeling, as if something bad would happen. I got in bed with him, and he was on his back in nothing but boxers. I was totally turned on because my man and his muscles were sexy. He sat up to match my eyes. He looked into my soul it seemed, he grabbed me and we shared the most sensual series of kisses that we’d ever had. We had talked about this a couple of times. He knew that I wanted him to be my first. We also had talked about practicing safe sex. If we were going to do this, then it had to be done right. He was prepared. He grabbed a condom from his mother’s nightstand. He told me to remove my tee shirt and my panties. I did what he asked, and put them on his mother’s nightstand. He equipped himself, and got on top of me.
“Wil…..Are you here?” I heard the female’s voice first. He was busy hurting me. I didn’t think losing my virginity would be this painful. I pushed him off of me, and sat up. In a split second a woman walked in who I assumed to be his mother. She looked like a female version of him. I got out of her bed butt naked and embarrassed and grabbed my tee shirt and panties off of her nightstand.



I wrote this for a creative writing class that I had last semester. We had to do a writing work shop, where people told you what they didn’t like and what you should change. I didn’t write much poetry for my final portfolio, because I don’t want people telling me how to change my line breaks ect. This is “Fiction” with some actual truth to it. I’ll let you be the judge on what parts are factual. I used names of my friends, and the names of some of the towns where I grew up.

Poem of the day..Just me typing away. Not recorded in my books. Me not giving my words a second look..

I think I scare people away
From my blog
Because I’m too intense
I write what is real
It’s like an orgasm
It’s a release
Something too sticky
That I leave all over
This page
Like it or not
I’ma continue to say…
What I feel I must
My writing is like
The thrust
Of my body
Against these keys

Faced with the future
Like it or not
Have to do what you gotta do
Just to survive
Not putting myself at risk
To slip off a mountain
Called life’s cliff
Because I’m tiptoeing
Around what I know
Realizing that I must
But somewhat afraid to grow

I’m opening myself up
A new chapter on life
Words that are not recorded
On white paper with lines
I strike the keys
Like he strikes me
In a different way
I have much to say
And I will keep going
Forever
Until I have no more days
Then my words will be
Light to my family
Like spring or summer
Sun rays

So this is my poem for the day
I write to feel a void
that invades myspace
so until tomorrow
this is goodbye
and if I never come back
know that I’m peaceful
and that everything’s okay

I made it to work this morning, and ate chicken tacos for lunch. I popped my pills and about 20 minutes later I start to get nauseous when I was in the nap room. All of the kids who nap are of course flopping around on their mats like fish out of water. So I tell them, “You’re making Ms. *my name* dizzy, and if you keep moving I might throw up. It worked because most of them settled down. My meds make me so sick if I miss a dose, but it’s my own fault so I deal with the consequences. I am going to take a nap on my break, and maybe get some sprite or something.
It is such a dreary day here, and listening to some of the kids snoring makes me want to sleep. I have energy though despite the fact that I didn’t sleep much last night. Tonight the cast of the Independent Film that were shooting this summer is getting together tonight. I’m really not feeling it today. www.awareproductions.com is where you can go to view the trailer, and the slideshow of the cast. The trailer was shot by my professor many years ago, but the girl in the white gown is the part that I get to play. He was my Critical Thinking professor about 2 semesters ago. We instantly fell in love with each other. Well let him tell it I fell in love w/ him. I guess it sealed the deal when I got an A. (Critical Thinking is the hardest class @ my University. Out of my friends I’m the only one who got an A). Anyway last semester I had huge breaks in between my classes and I was his intern. We were getting the casting ready for the movie. He is a great guy, and I love him to death. I’ve gone to his house hysterical, because something in my life hurt me, and he held me. His boyfriend doesn’t mind. I love them both. Anyway even though I don’t feel that well today, I hope I feel better because I’m sure I need the practice.

Poem of the day..Just me typing away. Not recorded in my books. Me not giving my words a second look..

It is 3:18 in the morning, and I am wide awake. I’ve tried everything to try and fall asleep; watching tv, taking a shower, touching myself, eating left over Chinese food, reading. Nothing is working, and I know I am going to be cranky tomorrow. I have this strong desire to call in, but I hope I can get some sleep. I have stuff to do tomorrow. This whole weekend I have been lazy. Saturday my daughter was with her dad, and I spent the entire day in the dark in my room, typing on the computer. I didn’t even eat until 9:00 Saturday night. My serotonin or something is depleted, and boy do I feel it. I can’t find my meds, I think I left them at work in my Andy Warhol bag. *I hope* So yeah I can finally admit to myself that I feel sooooo much better when I take them. My bp is mostly depressive states. And when I take what I’m prescribed I return to how I am suppose to be naturally. A very bubbly outgoing person, but this ish right here..I hate it. If I can’t find it tomorrow at work, then I’m going to have to leave early to go to the pharmacy. I am committed to doing the right thing. People are counting on me..and I have shit to accomplish in life, and I won’t be able to if I’m bouncing back and fourth from sad to happy.







Is it hard not to judge?
A person in a wheelchair
Or a person who
Can’t walk w/ out crutches
But when you talk about MI
It’s a whole different subject
Because some of us
“Appear” not to be afflicted
Just walking around earth
Tick, Tick, Ticking
As “they” see us
We’re fragile as water balloons
Waiting to bust
You may not know it
But in the world
There’s a lot of us
And we know it
You judge

How would you put
Them in order
From not so bad
To mild
To worst case scenario
DID
ADHD
Depression
Anxiety
OCD
Dementia
Schizophrenia
Bipolar
Borderline Personality

I would love to know
That one day
Someone will love me
Even if I have multiple
Illnesses listed above
Because I might be crazy
But I don't judge

Thank God For MI

I wish I could start over
Go back and fix
Mix and match genes
Creating different alleles

What ever…
Happened that caused me
To have this label
That I want to peel off
And replace w/ “Stable”
But isn’t going anywhere
Because its terminal
And I’m exhausted
I want to run from it

Yet I know the cause
Isn’t going to hinder
My outcome
This is just something
To deal with
That will make me stronger
I’m gaining strength
Because one day
I will no longer
Be out of breath
Running from this shit
Called Bipolar Illness

I know “they” see me
And treat me different
I don’t know what good
The movies have done
For mental illness..
Created a sense
That we are all
CONSTANTLY
OUT OF CONTROL
Yet it’s different
For everyone
I am just a tiny part
Of a bigger whole


I do my best
To stay well
I go to the doctor
I exercise
I take my meds
I do research
I meditate before going to bed
I’m honest with myself
That’s the only way
I clear my head

And I know I can’t
Make people comfortable
With the mentally ill
I myself even hate
The way that sounds “ill”
Like were loose cannons
Always strapped
With emotional bombs
Tick, Tick, Ticking…
Waiting to go off

This is my place
To try to make
Others aware
To stand up and shout
“WE AREN’T ALL HOW YOU PROCEIVE”
I’ve opened up
My mind for the world to see

Damn titles..

So I’m a little bit happier since I emailed my bio prof. to ask him what I got on our last exam. This weekend hasn’t been all that great. Rainy days in GA. So anyway, he emailed me back, and told me I got 80%. I always miss at least 10. That is so weird no matter how much I study I always get a B. Oh well, I’m satisfied with that. Anything is better than a C. I study, but I believe if I studied more I would be a genius. The sad thing is that if I’m not interested in something that I’ve learned, then I’ll forget it when I don’t have to deal with it anymore. That’s why I realized that I don’t want to teach. Now I have to study for my final, and I need I believe a B to keep my B average. Last semester I had bio 1, and I was in the hospital and missed one of our exams. To make it up, he doubled my final. I ended up getting a B out of the class. This semester for one of our exams I didn’t study at all, and I had missed most of the lectures for the chapters on our exam. I knew I couldn’t take it, so I emailed my prof. and told him I was having “issues” and that I was too stressed to take the exam. He knew of my situation last semester so he agreed to let me double my final this time. I hope everything works out. I need to be studying now, but my daughter is asleep, and all I feel like doing is writing.
The last I don’t know maybe 15 poems or so haven’t been written in any of my notebooks. I just type them on word. I think I like typing them better than writing, because of course I type faster than I write. Plus they are somewhat safe on my computer that is protected by password. So when I get on a writing roll, then I’m on a roll. Sometimes I get dormant where I don’t really feel like writing, but right now I feel as if I must.

This illness is real
I have been taunted
Written about
By those who
Will never understand
But only we know
How this feels
To be flying high in the sky
Then without warning
Plummeting to the ground
To only be greeted
With nausea of an upset mind

I’m sure people
Who have no idea
Laugh
Snicker, and
Jeer
At those of us
Who are said
To not have it
All up there
But what good
Does that do?
It just shows how
Insecure they are
And makes them
Look like a fool
When we are
The ones suffering
From the lack of tools

....

Obscurity
Has set in
I’m having
A hard time
Writing
For I fear
For what’s in my head
My life is in the darkness
And I can’t get out of bed

It’s here again
I call it dim
Because the light
To my life
Is off
I didn’t pay the bill

My electric wiring
Is all mangled up
That when something
Happens out of my control
I want to yank
The plug out of the wall

Up and Down
I get dizzy
Then I fall
Back into the same pattern
Into the same position
I crawl
For fear of walking or running
I try to creep away from it all

Whyyyy!

Why is he telling our daughter that mommy is on a date?

Why isn't he telling her that mommy is busting her ass working and going to school?

Why is he so immature?

Why can't I be around him?

But why do I miss being around him?

Why is he going to be pleased @ the line above, and pissed off about the rest?

Why does this feel like this will continue for 16 more years?

And why do I feel like this wear and tear is killing me?
..............

Just a tip for Anonymous

Thanks for the nice poem “anonymous”, but I don’t like it when people comment on my page w/ out leaving some type of clue as to who they are. I guess I can’t make anyone not be anonymous, but I can sure suggest that “you” don’t. Leave an email addy or name or something..Or maybe people just want to aggravate me.

Why's? But it's not Wed...

Why do people believe Hillary’s lies?

Why do I believe she is going to get the nomination?

Why didn't she divorce bill?

And why doesn't she think he isn't doing the same thing?

Why do we still have a racial divide in our country?

Why did I use to date white guys?

And why do I think they treat me better than “us”?

Why did the Olive Garden stop selling my meat ravioli?

Why does the Olive Garden think people want ravioli with cheese, or mushrooms?

Why did my mother spank me for touching myself when I was a child, but now tells me to make love to myself?

Why don’t my half sisters talk to me, or each other?

Why are black woman jealous of other black women who have long hair?

Why do my uncles have blue eyes?

And how come I didn’t get blue eyes?

Why are people judgmental of people with mental illness?

Why do black men think black women w/ big asses, who usually have big stomachs and big everything else is sexy?

Why did skinny go out of style?

Why do most of “our” little boys want to grow up to be thugs?

Why doesn’t GA/Atlanta have any sidewalks?

Why hasn’t somebody tried to assonate President Bush?

And why do all the positive leaders such as Dr. King, and Mr. X, and JFK always get killed off?

Why does my mom’s church start at 11:00 am, but lasts until almost 3:00?

Why do all the black people in movies always die first?

Why don’t I like being told what to do, when I already know what to do?

Why don’t some people wash their hands after using the restroom?

Why is Thursday night, black people night at the clubs in ATL?

Why are people haters?

Why did TIP try to buy all those guns?

Why did Aaliyah die, and not Ashanti’s no dancing ass?

And why is Nelly w/ Ashanti?

Why am I terrified of police sketches?

Why would a man rape a woman?

Why is there a such thing as a “veggie burger”?

When it rains it pours

When it rains it pours
A cliché of course
But it’s true
I was told about
Someone’s grandmother
Those were her
Last words
Before she stopped breathing
And forever closed
Her eyes
On the world

That is deep
Very poetic
But she was right
When the clouds come
They tend to dump it
All out at once
So you don’t continue
To get soaked
Then once the tempest
Is over
You’re drenched
And sometimes
It’s hard to
Dry off
But being strong
Can help weather
The storm
Because once you
Think it’s passed
The thunder and lighting
Surprises your ass
And you’re in
The same position
Searching for an
Umbrella to shield
You from the rain
So clichés are true
But they are just over used

Here is an addition to 4/26/08 Poetry of the day..

This is my place
To be fouled mouthed
To scream
FUCK YOU
FUCK YOU
FUCK YOU
Three times out loud
Because writing
Is freedom
My pleasure principle
Away from the world
To say what I want to
Even if I want to use
All cuss words

So damn the world
Fuck the president
Because I’m tired
Of him
Fucking us
Shit on the government
Because they’ve shitted
On us
Gas prices are a bitch
They keep rising and shit
Just like I’ll continue
To use profanity
In my writing
Not because I don’t
Have filler words
I just like the way
They look
Not the way they sound

I thought I knew you
But I just found out
You wear a mask
Over your face
That is
Wrong
Instead of what
I thought was
Right
Character is important
But you played
A totally different role
Than I originally cast
Put it on me…….
So now it’s my fault
That I’ve seen
Your ass
You’re no longer
In costume
The mask has been removed
And all I can see
Is the moral fiber
Of you

I concur
With my belief
That we earthlings
Are tainted
With dust from space
That makes us
Hate each other
Discriminate over race
It makes a coward
Sleep w/ their girls man
Right in her face
That breeds killers
Who go fight wars
And bring guns
To school
To murder
Teachers and classmates

I am sad to say
That I must have
Gotten touched
By the dust
Because I sometimes
Want to find my spaceship
And like Scotty
Beam up
Before I make decisions
Like some I’ve listed above
Because I’m like no other
The dust is anti love
I give love
And expect it back
Earthlings won’t survive
Much longer
If we don’t
Patch things up

Deal with situations

And brush off the dust

From our shoulders

Esso
The ghettoest club
Down here
Probably not
But she just won’t
Be partying there
Ever again
It started out
Her and two friends
They got something to sip on
And started to dance
Every thing was cool
Until this chick asked her
“Can you move cuz your
Hair is in my face?”
She turned around
And said "I was here first”
But she had no problems moving
She found another spot
In the empty space

The night was over
And they were leaving
Her two friends
Left her standing
Alone
She went to go
Look for them
Instead this same girl
With big bones
Stuck her wide ass hip out
And purposely bumped
Into chick
So she walked away
Then immediately changed
Her mind
She wanted to handle
It a different way
She went back
Got all in big bone’s face
Saying you think just
"Cause I’m pretty
That I won’t do shit "
But she had another
Thing coming
Because she who didn’t
Start this
With her big ass hips
Balled up her fist
And hit that bitch
The girl who got hit
Was a big boned scary bitch
Because she didn’t
Do anything
I’m sure this was running
Through her head
“I can’t believe this pretty bitch
Just busted me in the face”
After that the pretty chick
Walked away

Spirituality is real
I realized it as a child
The depth I felt
Didn’t know what
To do then
I just knew I felt…
Deeply

A presence that
Is always there
I don’t know “it’s” name
I haven’t seen “it’s” face
I just know that “it”
Places me
In the right and wrong
time and place
For me to see things
Right before they catch me
So I can start sprinting
Away…

It’s deeper than anything
I’m almost afraid of “it”
If I told you what I’ve seen
Before it happened
How could I trust you
With my premonitions
I’ve experienced them
I call it a brawny
Woman’s intuition


Scenes of our lives
Actually play out
In reality
Like on the silver screen
Except our laughter and joy
Isn’t faked
And the pain we experience
Is real
There is no script
Only improvisation
You gotta go
With what you’re given
And deal with how you feel

“It” with out a face or name
Has given me an advantage
In most situations in life
Where I’ve followed my heart
Sometimes to the light
Sometimes to the dark
As a woman
Who travels deep
Into herself
Mostly on her own
Yet I will always
Accept “it’s” help
Because I need "it"
Can't go on my life
Journey alone..

Good Morning Blog..

Today is going to be long. Our “production” as they call it, is today. I finished making the bird costumes and head pieces yesterday. We have all of the African animal costumes all done. I think. They are going to look cute, but most of the little ones have no idea what is going on, and are flittering around everywhere. At practice at least, but on stage I’m thinking they may be scared and just be still.
I am sitting here with my hair dripping because I just washed the conditioner out of my hair that I left on last night. t's time to rock the curls. This little girl (tell you about her later) well I’ve basically spoiled her to death, and she’s already spoiled..rotten.. Anyway she was attempting to do my hair and she sneezed. I told her to go wash her hands, and I knew I had to wash my hair. But then I stood up to go to the bathroom and I put my hand on my back. I had a big snot spot. I was totally grossed out. The kids know I can’t handle bodily secretions, so one of them (he’s 4) said “Ohhh, you’re going to make Ms. *my name* sick.” It was so funny all I could do was laugh, and run and wash my hands. I hit up the hand sanitizer next. I went to the elementary class room and asked one of the older girls for a shirt. Every thing worked out, but I have a feeling I’m going to be coming down with a cold soon. She’s about to infect every one.
Anyway I need to go take a shower and get ready for work. Bye Bye Blog

Got my own little studying going on here..

I have a bio test
In the morning
I need an A
So I can at least
Have a B average
At the end
You C
If I were a biome
I would be the Tundra
Cantankerous and cold
With mountains and snow
That’s until you
Got to know me
Then I am nothing but
Tropical I bring warmth
With different layers
Of life
Chaparral comes over me
Just like the dry climate
And poisonous tress
When you piss me off
There’s venom I secrete
I’m just play’n though
Just me trying to self teach
Why can’t nature really
Represent the exponential growth model
Under ideal conditions
All organisms have a chance to thrive
Logistically?
What will be my carrying capacity?
Population dynamics
Density dependent
Dispersion patterns
We are clumped
All on the east coast
It’s a mess
I hope I follow the life table
Number 1
Die in old age
And have fun while I’m young
I’m a pelagic person
Studying the seas
When others want
To see me benthic
Like a mussel
Never moving along
The sea floor
So I must study
For my last bio test
Before my finals

Poem of the day..Just me typing away. Not recorded in my books. Me not giving my words a second look..

My friend
Who isn’t suppose to
Be my friend
But ended up being so
Is afraid
That our start
Will be her end

She is an angel
That helped me out
I’ve always had
Toxic friends that
Meant me no good
But I am not like them
Like in the movie
I “Pay it Forward”
I would never damage her
Or her profession
Because I want to keep
Her around
She’s like a big sister
That I never had
With a humble and wise spirit
That my soul gravitated to
And reached out and grabbed

I would never hurt a friend
I’ve had it happen to me
From almost every “girl” friend
Since the history of me
Like I always mention
They have the bitch gene
I don’t posses that one
I’ve got a different allele

Today

I went to see my therapist and psychiatrist this morning. My daughter came along with me, it was nice to spend time with her, even if it wasn’t the type of place she would want to hang out. I am happy that I had an appointment, and had planned to go to work late because my sitter wasn’t home when I would normally drop her off. I would have been panicking if things wouldn’t have worked out like they did. I then went home after I dropped her off and tried to take a nap. I haven’t been sleeping much here lately. I hate being tired, and I love to sleep.
My therapist and psychiatrist are the best. They always motivate me to do the right things to take care of me. They are so positive, and I look up to them because they are strong women. I remember when I took psychology how my professor stressed the importance of unconditional positive regard when dealing with a client/or patient, because she herself was a therapist. They definitely have that down. I wouldn’t trade them in for anything. I really appreciate them for helping me turn my emotional/mental life around.
Don, I see where you’re coming from saying how you wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m afraid that it may be too late, at least for the people who read T’s page that know both of us. I really don’t care what they think, but I think you’re right I don’t want to tell people that I am really close to, and that I’ve had a long relationship with. Not yet, right now it would be too much. I think it’s kind of cool how I can go around in life and not tell anybody if I don’t want to, because it’s latent. Oh well it’s a part of me, and I’m sure that people who are in my life will one day find out, but not now.

We have our spring production Friday, and we started making costumes yesterday. These people are not about to stress me out. I was already covered in feathers yesterday making bird costumes for my students, while I had to listen to the other teacher say “I wouldn’t put feather on their sleeves.” I’m thinking they are birds, don’t birds have wings? She’s weird so I try to over look her. Sometimes I feel as she knows that she is annoying me, so she lingers around just so she can be annoying. Plus she has no life what so ever, bless her heart. She stays at work even when it’s time for her to leave. She’s not even getting paid. She has a real cool personality when she isn’t dealing with kids.
Anyway.. I took three kids at a time to try and get them all good for the show Friday. I took some of my older girls who are pretty cool and don’t give me problems first. The things kids talk about. I was LMAO when one of the quietest girls in my class was like “Yeah babies come from that big ole hole down there.” I looked up and she lifted up her dress, and attempted to pull back her panties and show the other girls what she was talking about. I’m like “NOOO!!!” All I could do was laugh because I never expected that one to say anything like that.
They don’t know the songs, and if they do they come in late, and/or start before each other. It doesn’t matter though because they will be cute. But the funny thing is the people in the office told the director of the play today..that she wants everybody in the school to participate in the play. The lady was livid. The play is Friday, and the kids we have already don’t know what to do. They probably got a lot of slack from parents that pay more than a G a month for their child to attend. Some people have 2 or 3 there..So I understand why they want them to participate. I wish I had some material right now so I can start making the elephant costumes. I can’t wait until this is over, and they can forget their lines.

O B G

I have a reason
As to why I can’t sleep
That trick is trying
To take down my man
I’m sad he loss
And that she won
Now her head
Is getting bigger
And it’s not
The right one
Or who it should be
But she has a fight
In her
Its called the bitch gene
She’s going to use
Every trick up her sleeve
To do what she knows best
Pray that bills don’t get passed
While my friends
Are killing people
And getting shot at

I’m an Obama girl
He’s the sexiest President
In the history of the world
The epitome of a black man
In a world that if it ain’t white
Then it ain’t no good
So I hope this time around
That you show them
That it can be done
That why should it only be them
That gets a shot
At ruining the world
Look at it now
The history
It’s not a pretty picture
Because it’s all white
Can’t see anything
Because it’s invisible
There's no color
So go number 44
They don’t want to see
You come through
That door
But the White House
Isn’t going to be
Only the White House…
Anymore

I am a poet
Who wakes up
From her dream state sleep
To write what she feels
I’m drowsy
In a haze
I actually feel like
Deleting my blogging page
Too many faces
That are hidden
Behind the screen
Who view me
As other fingers
Have painted them
With the same 26 keys
But I don’t know how
Someone tell me
How to delete….

So those thoughts lead me to..My bff doesn’t know about my b.p. I know she probably would accept me and it.But eehh..Don't wanna go there yet.So I was watching on of my myspace friends youtube today and she is all about anti stigma for b.p. She was saying how people shouldn’t be ashamed and go out and knock down the stigmas for the mentally ill. I don’t know if I’m ready to do that yet with certain friends and family. Most, not all of my friends in GA know, and they don’t treat me any different. But I have two particular friends who know and are always like “Did you take your meds” blah blah blah..and that’s cool because I know they care. But I couldn’t imagine having I don’t know all those people asking me the same damn questions.And then another factor comes into play once people know, they can use it against you. Wow in so many ways. I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks.
I remember my mom and I driving down Napier Ave. by the mall in the city where I’m from *she had come to get me from my co-op job at a special needs school*, and she saw one of her co-workers driving beside us.

“She’s bipolar” she said. And then I stopped listening because she was talking down about the woman. I was the wrong person to be saying those types of statements to; because at the time I had my mind made up that I was going to be a special education teacher focused on emotionally impairment. I know now, and then about every mental, physical, emotional, psychological disorder there is, and it hurt me the way she disregarded the fact that she was a human being with faults, just like herself.
Honestly people are afraid of what they don’t know. And I don’t want people to be afraid of me. So, I don’t know when I’ll be brave enough to stand up and shout. That my brain is unbalanced, and that I’m putting the wrong chemicals out!!!
I’m having trouble enough swallowing these 5 pills, 6 if I want to sleep..everyday.Calm down ppl..three of them are only 25mg = up to 75mg. Sometimes I want to be in denial. Then I think back to all my rollercoaster days, and I don’t want that any more for myself. I need to be able to take this crap every day consistently. Somehow I cannot some days make myself, so I skip. The next day it happens..what is happening now. I’m up all night because my body has to readjust. I have a photo shoot tomorrow and I know I’ll look like crap. I hope the make up artist is good. So this is my saying good night, hopefully.

The things you discover on MS

Wow! I should be asleep, but I’m not. I was looking at my best girl friends page on myspace, and I saw her sisters page too. I decided to stop by her page to comment her on how gorgeous she has become. I remember when my friends family adopted her. She was the cutest Brazilian baby who happened to be deaf. They restored most of her hearing via cochlear implant. Anyway, I was talking to my bff and she was telling me about her sister pursuing a modeling career awhile back. The girl is beautiful so why not? Anyway I was distracted away from her pictures when I read her profile. Lord be with her parents..She’s bi sexual apparently. My bff was telling me about this the last time I talked to her. She is in love with some chick..and they both are in love with some rock star man turned woman Jefree Star. Who is scary ass hell lookin’. I don’t have a problem with people and their sexuality. Hell I believe it is even innate at birth. She may not have a choice. But blasting it to the world is one thing, when your parents could possibly see. She is admitting to smoking and drinking on myspace!! I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to do that when I was her age that’s why I’m so appalled. My mom would have been patrolling my page as soon as she heard of something called myspace. “Myspace” she would have thought. It would have been her space. I just hope my daughter will be smart enough to hide her dust. I’m sure in 14 years there will be so much technology that even I may be out of touch. I am praying for my bff’s lil sis, because I know one thing I hope this drag thing is a phase cuz it’s scary.

Poem of the day..Just me typing away. Not recorded in my books. Me not giving my words a second look..

How could I make her stay?
When she said in her baby voice
“I wanna go wit you mommy”
Leaving her with her friend
Even though she wouldn’t have
Enjoyed herself
Because she would have been crying
Out for mommy’s help
You tell me I’m the mother
But it’s funny cuz you’re a man
And know nothing
About the subject
Because you aren’t one
And never will be
So how can you tell a woman
About being a mother
Writing about it like you know it
You never hear me say
This is how to be a father

Daddies don’t have to be there
We are blessed
Because you are
But sometimes you
Take this Papa thing too far
You think you know it all
But just like an apple it falls
And basically you don’t know shit
Bout raisin no little girl
At all
You put food in the cabinets
Clothes in their closets
But my daughter
Isn’t a lil man
What you called her
When you first held her
In your hands
So keep her out of the woods
Don’t talk to her
Like she’s a Gangster
Sure teach her
How to play ball
But put knee pads on her
So she won’t get scarred up
When she falls
Put her cap on her head
Cuz you ain’t the one
Braiding it
For hours at a time
Don’t spank her
Because it’s not right

What pisses me off
Is that growin up
My daddy listened
To my mommy
That’s one thing
He never questioned
Was a woman knowing
About her child
What is that cliché
That people toss around?
Mother’s know best
Maybe you need to listen
To that over used statement
Because she better not be
Outside in those woods
This spring/summer
11 acres your house sit’s upon
That is home to every bug ever created
That fly and roam the GA
Air and ground
And last summer there was
One too many ticks
Stuck to our baby
So do just like my daddy
Shut up and listen
And listen to mommy

Happy 420 N Earth Day

-420- Happy Happy 420
I was first introduced to 420 in junior high. Back then though I didn’t participate in the festivities, and I wished that my friends hadn’t either. They started partying to damn early. They really thought they were flower children. I was on this “pure” movement I would say. I didn’t smoke until I was 15, but all of my friends started a couple years before me. Out of my “black” friends, I was the only one who hung out with the “white” people. So that’s how I got introduced the second time to 420. It’s my parents fault for sending me to that school because the truth is white kids always have drugs. It was always the same group of us. One of my friend’s parents owned a farm, where we spent most of our time doing drugs. A couple of other people from our class, and sometimes her two cousins were always with us, even if we weren’t necessarily celebrating the actual day of 420. Thinking back on those days, I have a lot of random memories, but no real connection to what we actually did on 420 back in the early 2000’s. I’m sure it looked somewhat like a basement scene from “That 70’s Show”.
I’m thinking did our teachers/parents know that we smoked like we did? My friends were smoking at age 12!! And nobody went to rehab.. I know my mother knew when I first started @ 15. She either knew later on after I told her i quit, and figured she couldn't do anything, or I hid it really well. How did we not get pulled over by the 2 cops that patrolled the city of where I went to school? We constantly smoked out our cars..How stupid. I would never do that now, for many reasons. My daughter being #1. We were risk takers.
I remember smoking often before tennis matches, and having vodka in our water bottles. The water bottle idea was not mine. That credit goes to my friend with the farm. One of my girls even passed out at a match. I never was really a drinker. I remember on our last trip together as a class…We went to a city that was windy. I have no idea what went on there, and I remember is my girl who I’ll call Lennon pulling me up a flight of stair saying “This is it, until we get back to school. I’ve got more in the car.” I do remember when we got back getting into my car, driving off and leaving her ass there to get higher I guess. I figure every generation will have their group of people who will experiment with drugs. But does a drug abusing adolescent always grow into a drug abusing adult? I wonder if they are still up to the same thing? To the blogger.com people if you celebrate..celebrate to the fullest! Happy 420 oh and Earth Day!!

Four Fool

It was yesterday, Friday. So my daughter and I were running late, and I had to stop to get gas. I go to the gas station anticipating it not taking long to pay for my gas, but boy was I wrong. Nine people in front of me played the lotto. I was already aggravated, when the last old man who had to play the lotto looked at me with a look on his face that said “Girl, I wish I could let you go in front of me, but I gotta play my numbers”, but then he asked the cashier if he could have “Foe” quarters. OMG! I wanted to scream “It’s four quarters, not foe”. Of course he was one of “us”, and of course the cashier was not. I almost could read her mind; she was thinking the same thing I was.
So I ask myself why? I probably know why he said “foe” instead of “four”, because he was old, and I guess maybe didn’t know any better. It is socially acceptable amongst our selves to use African American vernacular, but damn it people I wish we could keep it between us. Why do we have to let them in on language, when after all they don’t understand, and think less of us when we do?

I think one of my students done got me sick..I'm sweaty and my throat is sore. I just woke up, had been asleep since I got off of work. I don't even want to eat my favorite snack. I'm about to go back to bed, and wake up tomorrow on the chase of the mightee dollar..

When I’m away from my daughter
I’m on that chase for the all mighty dollar
Not out there hanging out
Even though at night I sometimes work at a party
How is that neglecting her?
When I’m putting food on her table
Plus I’m trying to go to school
How is that possibly not good?
And when I wasn’t working
You wanted me to
Now that I am
You’re still not happy
And I’m confused
So the daughter we created
When there was love that wasn’t hated
Will be just fine
Because one day
Mommy won’t have to work as hard

NIte Nite Blog Boo

I'm about to go to bed..
Happy
Because today
I got an A
On a quiz
In Biology
It was a nice day
and all my students
Behaved

And now I know
He never loved me
Anyway
And if he did
It's sickly
and I don't want to touch him
Cuz he's got a disease..
Maybe there's a cure for it
It's something he needs
He's tried to infect me
but i got meds
and now i can go to bed
with a clear head
because writing is my therapy
this isn't written in my books
just me typing
not giving my words a second look

I had to change my damn name of my blog..for those of you who didn't know it was previously "Some Kind of Therapy"...

I just type..written tonight

I should have taken the other road
The one that stayed on the path with him
Because with you..
I know your plan
You sought me out
To make my world dim
You saw me as young
You saw a big ass sign
On my forehead that said
DUMB

Haha
Jokes one you
Because I may not
Be able to answer an equation
But I'm way smarter than you
The thing is..
I should have listened to myself
And stayed w/ dude
Because you saw me as exactly that
a whore who could make a pretty baby
combined from that thick shit
that comes from ur nut sack
And he would never talk to me
like you do
you are a batterer
You like to abuse
I fight back
It’s what I’m used to
you got exactly what you wanted
how you like that
I got the worst end of the deal
my nightmares are coming true

I look at my problems in the mirror
every day
i'm sure you never look at yours
how can you live that way

You always point the finger
When you're holding the trigger
I’m always wrong
The bad guy
Who is a girl
Just like your wife was
Why didn’t I see the signs
There is always two side to every story
I don’t know why I didn’t get hers
She’s doing good now
With a man of her own
She couldn’t be that bad
If he’s sticking around so long
I’ve never had a man treat me this way
And if I gotta move all my shit out tomorrow
Like them bitches in the life time movies
Every thing will work out
And I’ll be okay
Because if your going to try to kick my ass
Now with words
Welcome to my world
Cuz lil buddy I got you beat
Feel the fire
I got that heat

And what’s so bad
Is that I still love you
No man has touched me
And I don’t know if I want one to
Because if they act all crazy
And flip out over pussy like you do
He can stay where he’s at
Cuz you’ve tainted me dude
You have some physical scars
Why don’t you take a pic and post em
Show the world what ya baby momma
Did when you pushed her
I have bruises that will last deep
You were my first love
I was only 19
I should have listened to my enemies
Who hated
That’s probably the only time they were right
I ain’t have no business w/ somebody
That multiplies my age
Lord love is a hard thing
But what Don say
Sometimes you gotta let go…
And let it be..

Call me….Because we need to talk
Ohhh..somebody bet me some money..
That he won’t call..
Or I’ll call and he won’t pick up the phone..
Childish..

The other side of HIS-Story

Have you ever heard of a thing called a daddies girl? I was in between. I remember crying and yelling at my mom ( you can ask her) “ I WANT MY DADDY”. So my daughter does the same thing. And All-mi-t that’s exactly how you wanted it, talking about it breaks your heart. I remember when we got together and you were telling me about how your son used to cry when he had to go with his momma. You talked about her just like you do me like a dawg. And I told you that you would. It makes you feel good to bash other people instead of looking at yourself in the mirror. Something like a bully at school don’t you think? It makes you proud that your children wanted to be with you so much. I think stemming from the fact that your mother wasn’t around when you were a baby, and your dad never even gave you a chance to this day. And you act like she was crying because she really didn’t want to be with me. She was crying because she wanted to play w/ your room mates daughter. I’ll admit you are fun..kid like.
And you want to know what breaks my heart? When she tells the whole world ya’ll. The.Baby sitter, Baby sitters nephew, Baby sitters boyfriend, lady at the grocery store that her daddy hit her. She looks so pitiful. I cried when she first told me..and then kept saying it because I don’t hit my baby. I don’t cuss at my baby. And my mother used to beat the hell out of me..Not just whoopings..Whole different subject..But anyway so what she cussed, so what she spit..Children do that. My mom washed my mouth out with soap when I was maybe 3 because I spit at her Godmothers house Ella.

And since you wanna talk about people saying things..What about all those text messages that I saved..that say “I’m cutting off your insurance”. “I should just repossess “the car you bought me for my birthday” (PPL I had my own car..It was a piece of shit Sunfire, but it was mine…All-mi-t made me trade it)”. “I am filing for custody Monday, my lawyers will be in contact.” “You are a hoe” (When he talked to me first, and knew everything that went on”) "That's MY CAR" WTF? Wow what a control freak.. That is some manic shit. You be shakin and shit. Do you not remember saying stuff like that?
So…Now Blogger.Com since you are on here bashing me…There’s always two sides to every story..and I have it right here!

Crazy Creative

Okay folks…how many of you writers/artist out there have heard that really “artistic” “creative” people are really somewhat insane?
“Many famous people are believed to have been affected by bipolar disorder (formerly known as manic depression), based on evidence in their own writings and contemporaneous accounts by those who knew them. It is often suggested that genius (or, at least, creative talent) and mental disorder are linked, as discussed by Kay Redfield Jamison in Touched with Fire, though many of the diagnoses in that book are made by Jamison herself.” Wikipedia.com
Think about all of the people who have written beautiful literary works, or beautiful music, or played sports extremely *ect*… Well that were mentally ill….

This is a list of people who had/have Bipolar…Silvia Plath, Edgar Allen Poe, Jim Carrey, Winston Churchill, Kurt Cobain, Patty Duke, Beethoven, Charles Baudelaire, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald, Carrie Fisher, William Falkner LOL “A Rose For Emily”.. Macy Gray, Alexander Hamilton, Ernest Hemmingway, Jennifer Lewis, Issac Newton, Florence Nightingale, Sinead O’Connor, Ozzy Osborne, Cheri Oteri, Jane Pauley, Axl Rose, Nina Simone, Brit Spears, Mark Twain, Vincent Van Gogh, Virginia Woolf…
You’ve seen the list right? Almost every author that I had to read in High School/and or College is on this list. Wow! I just may be great. Crazy people obviously have more fun. The people on this list probably has/had some stories to tell. I know cuz I've read em. People like us aren’t afraid to live life, and express ourselves.

This is me trying to make a connection with people who are extremely smart/and or creative..you make just may be crazy…There is scientific data that proves such..Get yourself checked out..especially if people keep saying "something is wrong with you". The crazy people are the ones who don't get checked out.

Foia original...wrote this 4/17/8 not five minutes ago...

Yes…
I still dream
Of a place
Where both of us
Used to be
What do they call it?
When you wait
Constantly for your phone to ring?
What do they call it?
When you see that person
Your heart doesn’t just beat
It sings?
What do you call it?
When your in their arms
And you don’t wanna be anywhere else
Because you feel safe from harm?
What do you call it
When your down there gets moist
Just because you
What do you call it?
Their touch

Yet a dream
Is where what do they call it
Is for me and you
Because our reality
Isn’t what do they call it
It’s something totally different
In its entirety
What do they call it?
Has escaped you and me
But in my dreams yes..
I still see…
What do they call it?
Between you and me

I’ll whisper away….

I have never been good enough
Not for the outside world
And certainly not for myself
Next time God may I have a cheat sheet
Or please leave me behind
And let me get beauty sleep
Life is wayyy too messy
And I like things neat
Rhyming princess, that’s me
One day I’ll be ordained a Queen
My words are all I have
They are the biggest part of me
They’ll be here when I’m gone
My words will live on
Day to day
I’ll whisper away….

Guess I’m ready

I really prefer not to share
To make people aware
Of my soul

That is held inside of my books
That help make me whole

What would they say
If they knew I felt
A certain way
About a situation
On a particular day?

How would they react
To my feelings?
By being judgemental..Huh?
When this helps me feel better
I call it my own personal healing
A place to decorate and paint my feelings
Not meant for just anyone to see them
But when they do
I’ll be out of hiding
But that won’t happen
Until I’m ready to share
My own personal writing

Hilarious….Last semester was stressful

Damn China man
Wish I wouldn’t have taken
Yo class
Got me wanting to do karate
And karate chop yo ass
Because I need an A
In yo class
But I’m not good enough
“Art is not one way”
But my designs don’t pass
What will that look like
Me getting anything
But an A in Art
I know one thing
You’ve just ruined my day

I don’t know you
But I know your story
40 something, single, raising your daughter
You up’d your game
And got a graduates degree
Working with this man who has a PhD
Psychotic patients they both see
She is feeling him
And trying extremely hard to please
But he’s not feeling the situation
She has too much meat
He likes anorexic looking women
Not those who crave rice crispy treats
But back to the point she’s doing 2 much
A man won’t turn down sex
Unless he’s grossed by the thought of…
WHAT!!

Back in the day when I was a kid..i’m not a kid anymore, but I still read what I wrote back then..

I’ve been impulsive my entire life
Always getting myself into something
I don’t have no business doing
Whether it be doing drugs
Driving too fast
Or screwing
If I don’t grab a hold soon
I’m going to lose it
And I don’t wish to be this way
Don’t confuse it
This impulsiveness has led me far away
From the woman I dream to be
Slowly chipping away tiny parts of me
I must regain control
To rebuild my whole
Because it is very important to me
That on this impulsive journey
That I get to know the true me

Yeah Yeah Yeah..Another one written back in the day

There are probably pages
That reflects those men
Who have touched my life
Some good..
Some sullied..
Taught me how
To move slow
How to get
What I want
Never accepting no
This book
Like all of the others
Will be just that
When it’s tatted about others
About you no longer
It’s a growing period
Call me a flower
Who’s being picked
From your garden
Searching for
A better tomorrow

Funny…I found this in one of my notebooks.

One day I’ll fly away
Like a bird
No one is on my chase
Liberation…
I can almost feel
The wind blowing
Against my face
I’ll be on my own
Which is different
From all alone
Finding my own way
Flying away from
The nest
Where my baby bird
And I now reside
Far
Far
Away from this place
Is where I’ll build
Our next nest
Where we’ll lay
A papa bird?
That bird fell
Out of the tree
Forgot how to fly
And broke his wing


**** Wheew! It musta felt good to get this one out..I don’t have a date..I’m guessing it was written wayyyy over a year ago.***

Common Sense-

Question? If you were going to visit someone at their job, and the person who you were going to see told you that they really weren’t suppose to have their phone, but sometimes they snuck it anyway didn’t answer. How would you go about the situation?
On this particular day the person who was being visited was really busy because of being short staffed, and the person being visited at work didn’t have a chance to sneak their phone. So the person who came to visit the person at work calls, and continues to call….And continues to call. When literally 20 steps in front of the person who came to visit the person at work, is the front door. The front door that has a desk with a woman who sits there and does what she does at a job, work. Yet the person who came to visit the person at work is disgruntled because they didn’t use their common sense to just go in and ask for the person that they came to see. When the person who is being visited at work sees the person visiting them, they rush outside, and is greeted with angst. The person getting visited told the person visiting them that they could have just walked in, because the person visiting them knew that they may not have their phone at all times. What would you have done? Continued to call, and then get mad when the person at work didn’t answer. Or would you have walked in, and have asked for the person?

Just a thought..

As you can see, I will not let anyone hinder my creative growth. I will not run scared from people who are afraid of my creativity. I will continue to exploit my thoughts and continue not to give a what!!!

Why we still on the block?
Bad boys grown up
On the jock of a glock
Daddies long gone,
And ain’t gave you 1 thought
But you do what you see
Not what you was taught
Even if daddy wasn’t there
Yo mama didn’t raise you like that
To give up on the world
And you act like you don’t care
All you want is a big booty girl
w/ flyy hair and a sexy walk
that know how to put it down
and just don’t talk the talk
Go down on you so good
That you go retarded
And all of a sudden
You can’t talk
Grow up fool
This is what I call
A culture shock

Finding myself
But I ain’t really
LOST
HUNGRY
But I don’t have the
THIRST
Burns so bad you would
THINK
I had herpes
Try to forget it
But somewhere in my memories
I still find you
LURKING
Want to retaliate
Make you wish
You never fucked over me
Make you a nuise
And hang you from a
TREE
Leave you hanging
In everlasting
SLEEP

Naïve…
So what that’s me
It’s so sad
That I can’t expect
Black unity
Still…I smile @ you
And you shit on me
Evil hearts will never
Be set free
I am happy
And that is me
Give love…
I’m all about that
We’re all black
Why stab each other
In the back?
Don’t know no better
But how to be a hater

From deep inside one of my notebooks

This may not become of anything
But this is my life
These pages
My heart
Are full of
Bull shit and strife
Yeah I’m felonious
I’ll pull out a knife
Ben- That’s the Ha Ha talk
And look at ya girl
She doing the Ha Ha walk

Man I got street cred
The Ha Ha
If you ain’t been there b4
Don’t go
Because everything is shady
Err body got babies
We stay fresh to death
With no jobs
But yo that’s where I from
And yeah that’s how we come