i really don’t know what to say

because, at one point in my life, nobody ever loved me enough to say things like this

not to my face
not on their blogs
… it either wasn’t something they felt/ thought, or they weren’t brave enough to say so.
thank you, girl. 
for reminding me of me.

it’s done.

i quit.

no more.
last day’s next friday.
wow.

fronting: an undoing.

peeling off, peeling out, laying the dumb shit to the side.
seeing myself, wholly, in bright light
not allowing myself to be lost in the crevices between what he says, what she says
slipping through cracks that seem more like caverns
i am no longer willing to be held hostage by image or ego, whether mine or someone else’s
coming undone has never been so dope, and i love how it feels
i have started to embrace la loba within.
and for the first time, in a long time, i don’t feel the overwhelming urge to tattoo or pierce, to cut my hair or get my eyebrows waxed.
i’m fine how i am, where i am
because i’m meant to just do what i do
there’s nothing to stop me
no one to slow me down

the only one in the way of this is me. and i’ve decided to move on over.

knowledge of self: a stream of consciousness.

understand me when i say i’ve had a breakthrough. about who i am, about where i am, about where i’m headed, and who i’m stepping into being.  i don’t worry so much anymore, because i’ve never been this certain. i’ve never been this self-possessed.  i’ve never, in my life, been more aware of one simple fact: i’m the truth. i am the best thing that ever happened to me.  i have figured it all out: i am equipped with every tool i need to get to the next place, to do the next thing, to take the best care of myself and all of my needs.  when i really listen to myself and trust my own intuition, i am unstoppable.
i am bigger, better, stronger, and flyer than anyone’s imagination — my own included.  i will not be stopped by anyone else’s fear or jealousy of me.
i am a walking miracle. my very existence on this earth is the product of praying grandmothers & my own resilience.  i will not lose. ever.
i am the first born daughter.
the mark i make on this earth will be indelible.

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. 

resignation letter, part two:

dear administrators and mid-level supervisors:

fuck y’all.

goodbye.

gratitude

support

on-time surprises
customers
word of mouth
twitter
red wine
white wine
pizza (though it’ll be my last one for a while)
babies
generous friends
rose scented soaps
laughter
hot pink tights
foot spas
cherry coke
sleep
sunrise