after much contemplation, i’ve realized:

i’m everything i could ever want in a mate. & i’m not mad at that. not one bit.

i’ll be marrying myselves sometime between my 30th birthday & the day i die. invitations pending, i suppose.

i still don’t know

if it’s safe for us to talk.  i still love you.

i still wish we could be friends, sometimes.  you certainly knew how to remind me of how capable i am, how sexy i look in dresses, and how there’s nothing wrong with being myself.  that was you at your best: bright, visionary, revolutionary love personified.

but at your worst, you were callous and crass, inconsiderate, ruthless, bordering on inhumane.

i loved you despite, but had to turn my back. i couldn’t do it anymore.

and now, here i am. years later. dreaming about you.  again.

i pray for your peace of mind, that you have found the happy medium from which you were so far removed.

maybe we can talk again one day, when it’s not about ego or stature.  it can be about love. i would welcome that. 

dreaming of colors, light & sound

the first hints of the arrival of spring have visited my city.

the sun shines, the snow melts, it’s nearly 60 degrees & my toes cry out for sun. flip flops, open-toed wedges, etc. i want to craft, and to wear pretty things that my beautiful friends make. 

i feel like walking to run, running to take off flying.

soon.

freedom.

i support the DREAM act.

it’s quite simple:

people with the opportunity to advance themselves tend to be functioning, contributing members of society. if we have fewer of them, we develop something called social decline.  social decline means fewer teachers, fewer qualified persons to replace retirees, brain drain in college towns and states w/ great education systems, and all around suckage.

i don’t want the united states to suck because people who came here as undocumented minors aren’t allowed to improve their lives. especially if they actively seek the opportunity to improve their situations — isn’t this why parents would risk legal action by the US government in the first place? to see their kids improve their situations?  isn’t that what any parent wants for their child(ren)? if we’re allowed to go to the polls and vote away another person’s rights, why can’t we influence our lawmakers to grant rights to others? the right to incur obscene amounts of student debt and then work their asses off to pay it off? the right to go into the armed forces to serve in whatever capacity necessary?  there are undocumented minors who want to do this. so why say no?

to encourage the obama administration to pass the DREAM act, click here. to read about the DREAM act and the people who’d benefit from it, go here.

in my dreams again.

him. the crush.

this time, there was lots of touch. some good jokes. skin-to-skin contact. we were sitting in my bed. a few times he climbed over me to get something off the dresser. other times he walked into the kitchen to get me something to drink or eat. i wasn’t sick, but simply the center of attention.
and the last time my alarm went off, i was waiting for him to come back. i was expecting a kiss. anticipating our fingers to be entangled and our foreheads to touch, for there to be some whispered compliments and some sharing of extremely private jokes.
but i had to wake up.
to nothing but a wisp of a memory.

i don’t even know dude like that

to be dreaming about him.
shit.
barely three conversations, and he’s traipsing through my REM?
we’re in this dream, talking about learning portuguese and what we felt was the presence of yemaya in favela rising
and i’m all kinds of twisted about this
maybe it means something
maybe i should just get some fucking sleep
i don’t know.

but what i do know is that the feeling has been with me all day long.
*sigh*

what if

every man i’ve ever known took a class with ted bunch? what if every woman i’ve ever known went to the house of womyn’s power? what if every black reproductive health specialist started sharing opinions like this one?

it doesn’t matter why i’m asking.
i’m just envisioning the world i want to live in, even if i’m there by myself or with a very select few.

i’m in some kind of a personal war.

there’s a fight. the life i want vs. the way i make a living. i don’t like it one bit. i don’t fight the notion that forward movement is paramount. i know i have to do A to get to B. but there’s this cacophony of every supportive voice i’ve ever heard combining with my own higher self pretty much singing in a round ‘this isn’t where you’re supposed to be. you can’t stay here.’

it’s not the work that comes w/ the promotion. i don’t care about workload — i can get stuff done without feeling overwhelmed most times, even with the two functions i serve in one office. this bridge called my back, anyone?
it’s not that. and it’s not the being on the spot, going to meetings, pressing through . . . all that doesn’t matter.

it’s that, at the core of myself, i know without a doubt in my mind, with every fiber of my being, that i’m supposed to be welcoming babies into the world. i’m supposed to be throwing fabulous events with dear friends and enjoying not having a day job. this shit is not even for the birds — those motherfuckers are happy doing what they do. it’s . . . it’s just not for me.
so now i’m having problems sleeping at night because i don’t effin wanna be where i have to be the next morning.
i don’t tie my rent to that job. i tie money to that job. when i leave, i will be making the same money, if not better, because i know that’s how it’s supposed to be. i will teach, i will tutor, i will doula, i will study, i will do everything i need to do to keep this roof over my head.
and you know what?
it won’t have shit to do with that ‘good city job.’

i’ve had a lot of time

to reflect.
i started the road to what i really wanna do.
and now, i’m simply putting one foot before the other to get there.
more later — i need some sleep.

i would complain about it

but it’s what i asked for.
i wanted to communicate with you only in dreams. clearly, & with no punches pulled. last night/ this morning, you asked for the chance to talk to me. i said i needed to think about it. a mutual friend was the one i told this to in the dream — i presume that this person was the conduit of that energy, he represented the path. if you’d come to me any other way, i wouldn’t have accepted it. it was a lot for me — you know i have some serious anxiety about dealing with you. but i’ve been touched by the dream; i understand. i know. i wonder if your dream was the flip side of what i just experienced. even if it wasn’t, i’m good. for now, i’m okay w/ dreams. you have to have my permission to reach me, anyway. this is just another way for me to let go. it’s really easy to say that past hurts shouldn’t be able to reach you, but fuck that. we’re human. we’re super sensitive to traumatic and hurtful things no matter how we allow them to manifest. i respect your humility. you don’t have to try to reach me in the waking world. i already know. it’s okay. say peace, and let’s leave it at that. whatever happens next is up to our ori and the universe at large.

*an end note:

i know you show up every time i dream of you. i can’t stop you. but if we engage w/ each other in the waking world i want you to act right, okay? don’t make an ass of yourself or make me wanna wish you harm. thanks.

old flames: a colored girl retrospective.

i’m not gonna go in order, or even name (government) names. i was reading omi’s post of a similar ilk & i was struck by how easily i’ve been imprinted by the relationships i’ve had. i suppose that’s because i was open, to begin with. there was never a moment when i regretted any of it. . . but i have definitely found myself questioning whether i’d ever find myself undone by the same conditions, if i would be stubborn enough to ignore lessons and major indicators that the shit just might not be a good idea. after all that, i’m glad i can say no. i’ve learned a lot in those relationships and in between them. enough to know that i don’t care to be bothered with the bullshit, enough to know that reciprocity isn’t a dream . . . enough to know that i’m never gonna be that woman again.

so, bit by bit i’m gonna be writing my memories. i don’t know if i’ll be able to find songs to adequately describe the walking disaster that was the rapper, or the overwhelming love i felt when dealing with the runner. i just know that the sooner i put it all out, the better equipped i am to take the hand of the next one and lead him into my apartment . . . to sit on my sofa . . . and watch the 2nd season of america’s best dance crew while we eat coconut rice and compare tattoos.

yay!

kathryn hall trujillo of the birthing project usa @ the black healers & midwives conference in phoenix last year:

yaaaaaaaaaay!

next stop:
full circle doula training with shafia monroe.

feeling like my fulfillment is on hold

like i have to shake my ass a lil harder for those tips
smile bigger when they ask how i’m doing, so massa & them don’t know i’m planning to leave
i’m growing impatient &
full of myself, certain that i’ll strike when the iron is hot
my hands itch to pull at that other shoe, instead of letting it drop on its own
trying to slow this mess down just enough to savor the last days

i’m more aware now than ever of how this is gonna go down,
where my support comes from
what i need to leave alone
& ultimately, i’m fully able to see where i ought to be
what steps to take, where to plant my feet.

i just have to breathe & take care of this stuff first.
the babies will come
the money will come
the new home will come.

i just have to make it so.

o sonho :: moon dreams

i’ve been having incredibly vivid dreams. last night, i dreamt that my baby sister got picked up by customs when she went ashore during a family cruise to the caribbean. granted, i can almost guarantee that my mother, sisters & i will never go on a cruise together if at all — but that’s what the dream was. baby sis was distraught, upset that they roped her into whatever group of accused ppl based pretty much on color. black grad students. that’s what she is right now. smart, black, woman, unafraid, proud. people always wanna take that from you — that fearlessness. they always wanna snatch it & cloak themselves in it. the sense i got from the dream was that these black officers of the law on whichever island we’d visited were cross at the level of privilege held by my baby sis & these other folks. to me, she’s not terribly privileged; she makes her lil money, she works in the library in my old neighborhood full time while doing her counseling psych classes all at once. she is black, working hard, but also subject to various oppressions. however, that wasn’t enough for these power-abusing uniformed men to leave her be.
i don’t remember the rest of the dream, really. i ran to try to help her much to the protest of my mother. but i’m a springing-into-action kinda broad. i suppose that if the dream finished the way i wanted it to, i would have been able to convince them to let her go & the loved ones of the other students would have been present to achieve the same goal. i don’t know. i guess i’d best tell her not to go on any long trips without family? i’m still sorting it all out.

the night before last, i had a dream that upset me because of who was in it. i felt panic wash over me as soon as i realized what i was looking at, where i was, what i was doing. & i couldn’t get away quite fast enough. he & i conversed. i don’t remember what was said. i know it was really brief, bullshit small-talk. i woke up feeling incredibly panicked; when i dream about this person or anything that has to do with him, he shows up. every time since the very beginning of our knowing one another. & i consciously resist that; it’s like my ori is calling him to me. as a matter of fact, i’m almost so shook that i don’t even want to press the ‘publish post’ button when i’m done writing this particular entry, just on the strength that i don’t want to talk to him ever again in my life. yet & still, i’m gonna do it. i need to be fearless as much as possible. if i talk to him, so be it. i feel that perhaps these dreams come unexpectedly when he’s thought about or discussed me, & i really do hope that he’s troubled in his sleep too. on the flip side, if someone mentions him to me i usually forget all about his ass until/ unless a dream comes. i’m still not sure if it’s my ori or the ancestors working on me/ us. i just know i’m okay, insulated as much as i can be from that whole mess. working on my shit, making sure i don’t bring myself into a situation like that ever again.

maybe one day, the dreams won’t bother me.

i feel very protective of my dreams right now.

i’m not sharing with too many folks. that is, i’m not talking to anyone whom i know to be negative or whom i know for a fact doesn’t really know me. i can stare into a person’s blank face every day for nearly 4 years (like i do at work with some ppl) & know that they’ve no clue about how to treat me. & i am, for all intents & purposes, my dreams. whatever i conceptualize, whatever i decide to become, that’s me. that’s where i’m headed if i’m not there already. & if that person should treat my developing self poorly then how can i ever expect her or him to be good to me once i arrive at my destination? that’s got to be im-fucking-possible. i’m not buying that jack-nicholson-as-the-joker smile & hands open only to make mincemeat from my most tender parts.
my dreams are not meant to be picked apart or turned into a frankenstein monster by anyone except me. there will be no opportunities for detractors to take from me or lessen my potency. there is not any good reason for me to take my brand new dreams out of my pockets to show to/ share with any person who isn’t also nurturing a dream. & i don’t mean simply thinking of something to do with the rest of her or his life — i mean someone who is actively putting together the pieces of that one thing they’re meant (or are trying) to do w/ the rest of her or his life. i’m tired of being exposed to folks whose uncertainty about their own places in the world serves as a platform (or a castle tower) from where they pass judgment on everyone else’s situation. that mess is sickening, anti-productive, & a huge waste of my time.
in short, i’m not having this bullshit for much longer. it seems that there’s a grillion ways to take the piss out of the good thing someone else has got going, but not as many ways to push that good thing along. anyone who’s well versed in the pushing along & forward movement is welcome.
all others may fall by the wayside. period. i am speaking power to my situation, regardless of what anyone has to do or say about it.

addendum:
mel, post this on your mirror or something. happy birthday. stay motivated, beautiful, & strong. i love you to pieces.