i’m really tired

i’m not going to work. my stupid-visor actually told me that i needed to be in today if i’m working OT. ho are you smoking blue rocks? the OT isn’t mandatory to begin with. & nothing in that place is as important to me as my gotdamn paycheck. get your mind right, please.

i’m ruled by my mood, the level of bliss i have in my life, & the way the wind is blowing at any given time. just because i’m there monday through friday doesn’t mean i (a) give a shit, or (b) want to be there. i’m beat. i didn’t feel like getting up early to be annoyed by the cavalcade of coonery or the parade of plum foolishness. so i’m gonna clean my apt a bit, hang out w/ my mommy (i never DO that anymore, fuckin around w/ that job) & then hopefully go kick it w/ riley.

i’m so not with the bullshit today.

so let me get my oatmeal & get the day started.

soundtrack: osn podcast #2 (unreleased) – by dj brainchild.*

can i get a track listing, bill? please? thank you. you know i love you to pieces.

i’m not a huge fan of

the studio version of jill scott’s “hate on me,” because it sounds kinda overproduced . . . & sort of um . . . canned, if you will. but she sang it at the black lily closing show in may & i loved it. maybe it was ?uesto & the band, maybe it was because amy fucking winehouse had shown up. or maybe because i know just wtf she’s talking about in the lyrics. my sista said if i gave you diamonds/ out of my own womb/ would you feel the love in that/ or ask, “why not the moon?” can we pause, reflect & breathe on that for a moment, please? i mean, damn. there are some folks on this earth who will tear every last tendon & bit of muscle from your bones & seek more if they believe you’ve got more for them to take. there are sometimes instances when ppl will show you precisely how ridiculous they are, & it’s like katt williams said: “you mad at breakfast? nigga, you gangbangin on bacon?” pissed, desperate. grabby & needy for no reason other than their own exaggerated sense of entitlement & sadly inflated ego. tearing apart everyone around them in the name of being whom or what, i do not know. but they do it; & think that shit is peace. isn’t.

the thing is, we are all humans
& we all have our moments where we have to think critically about others & by extension ourselves (i hope we all think critically about ourselves at some point or another). not to take away from or tear down anyone, but to really see who we are & what it’s hittin for. head on. & truly, i think that within such processes, we kinda gain a clarity. a perspective that shows us a little better how we simply aren’t ever really in a position to shit on someone else’s situation. yes, someone may be troubled or misguided or whatever. but is that really a reason to decide that they’re undeserving of your keeping your nose out of their shit?

i don’t mean people who maim bunnies or kidnap elderly women or pee on teenage girls on videotape and then blame the shit on their brothers. i’m talking about your homegirl who’s trying to finish her master’s degree & make herself a better person at the same time. i’m speaking of anyone who’s just living her or his every day life & is most likely progressing with it. nothing wrong w/ wondering about why your people are in the mess that they are. there’s no shame in venting about the one friend you have who continually places her or himself in situations that always require mediation or some large amount of financial assistance. you can wonder all those things — i think it’s normal, to gain the best perspective possible on how you may or may not fit into all of this.

but if you’re just plain pissed at someone’s existence on this planet & instead of ignoring them you’re seeking out reasons to talk shit on them, then perhaps you need to go rap w/ dr. phil or somebody. cuz that’s just ridiculous.

straight vampires, yo.
leave that shit alone. some of us work to get where we are, while others just end up there serendipitously. either way, i’m not in a position to judge.

i’m not afraid of/ what i got/ i paid for . . .

okay, i get it:

i have to stay a little while longer. even though i don’t want to. even though every day i find myself thinking that i’m gonna have to run away to new york or pick up all my shit & hide out at my mom’s house for 8 weeks of intensive “i can’t really hack it as a grownup” therapy (better known as working the same fucked up 12 hour days no fewer than 4 days per week, not paying ANYone’s bills except my own, looking for a new job on craigslist & watching a lot of crappy tv w/ my sisters). it’s really obvious. it is. i complained rather audibly to one of my at-work play auntie type coworkers & then in the afternoon, what happened? my division manager announced that basically she wants to utilize the knowledge of myself & some other support staff to turn us into . . . wait for it . . . are you ready? paraprofessionals. i know! basically she wants to find a way, even within the civil service system (which, though it is not inherently racist but definitely antiquated & still fucked up), to pay us what we’re worth. make sure that our skills & awareness don’t go to waste & ooze out of our ears. that’s what her predecessor did. constantly. i can’t say i’m terribly excited, because this is not where i wanna be for the rest of my life. i don’t even wanna hit the five year mark (the very idea makes me nauseous as shit) at this place when i never intended to stay beyond two. at the same time, i’ve been itching for the opportunity to be smart for a living — to really know that i come to work & use the talents i already have.
i complained & got a very obvious response. i’m like . . . okay, but i don’t have forever. & i don’t care who’s a great coworker, who has my back, who really looks out . . . i hate complacency.
& i feel kinda complacent.
i don’t wanna give this place the rest of my life, so i won’t. i don’t want to fester & just sit & stagnate. so i won’t allow myself to.

& i’m having the hardest time understanding what might be on the horizon in regard to the work situation, but i’m gonna shut the hell up & say thank you. i just know what i really want deep down inside. i’m tryna learn patience so i don’t rush into it just so i can say “i quit my day job to do this!”
cuz let’s face it, i need to get the money up. there are folks i want to include in my plan who are currently doing other shit (hey karas!). there isn’t any way i’m gonna even feel okay doing this without a few crucial things having been taken care of first.
i don’t know wtf is going on
but i know the universe answered me before i even got to finish bitching.


late for no reason, this time.


i’m just late because i wanted to blog first.

of course, i don’t have enough time to write what i really want to.


being up on time for work

can be kinda depressing
cuz deep down inside allllllll i wanna do is piddle around my apt. figure out how to make better beans & rice, make one of my infamously random iced tea blends, or maybe even turn on the tv for a few minutes before cheaters comes on. i just want the space
to breathe
get up & be happy about where i’m going during the day.
not that i’m ungrateful for this job — so many wonderful things have happened in the past 5 months alone, things that have given me the tools/ resources to go where i really wanna.
but sometimes i wanna throw up my hands & say “listen, i really can’t stand you folks anymore . . . maybe we can all have dinner together one day & laugh about it but right now i wanna curse nearly every one of you out for some reason or another & that’s a true problem. so, i resign. effective immediately, i quit. kiss my black ass. have a good day. i’ll be back when i feel like it for my personal effects & every blank cd-r in this bitch, since nobody here has a burner on their cpu.” i fantasize sometimes about that.
but until then, i’m struggling against lateness & general apathy. i like my division manager. i like a few of my coworkers. the rest i can take or leave, with a few insufferable completely inept fucking lunatics interspersed throughout. i don’t like the bulk of my duties, but i’m trying to plow through this shit so i can get to the good stuff. division manager has something she wants me to do.
but the papers are piling
my supervisor is a lame duck & doesn’t wanna help me out
so i gotta do it alone.
that shit is daunting.
i’m takin a mini-break this weekend.

so maybe i can come back refreshed & renewed, after communing w/ my ppls.

i certainly hope so.

today i am grateful for: travel, money, water, pretty dresses, & summer.

i didn’t go.

the mishap w/ my keys evolved into something else. i need a new door knob.

but all that led me to thinking about a shitload of other stuff. i had something resembling a panic attack.

it’s making me feel really embarrassed & i almost hate to say it

but i miss my mom
i want someone else to pay these bills/ take the reigns, just for a month so i can catch my breath
i knew it wouldn’t be easy but why is it so hard to get out of bed every single fucking day?
why don’t i smile at ppl on the street anymore? how is it that i hate talking to ppl i love?
i don’t like this. i don’t have to be in control but i don’t feel like i’m in control of myself, not even a teeny tiny bit.

i need to pray more
i need to fast more
i need to love more
but i don’t even know how to do any of that when i want to cover every mirror in my apartment, put black fabric up at my windows, and drink myself to sleep some nights.

then other days i feel like i can beat anything & anyone

& all it’s taken lately to take me away from that train of thought is one stupid thing
something someone says
a recollection of something/ one that i’d rather not be connected to

& here i go again
mad at everyone
escaping to books/ internet/ music/ movies/ tv

& it’s like who IS this bitch? this simple, angry, bitter, tired ass woman who doesn’t even wanna wrangle her mangy eyebrows or put together something nice to wear to work. i don’t even know where it all came from. maybe when i moved the first time last year
maybe after labor day wknd, w/ the facial contusion & all that shit
i don’t fucking know

. . .
but i feel like there’s not enough sympathy, empathy, kindness, love, or anything else to reach me.

i gotta lay this one in the lap of the goddess. ain’t shit else i can do.

here i go again

hating work so much i’d rather be late than on time.

someone call bdp, i’m in self-destruct mode.

at least i get to vend this wknd.

i think.

i keep hearing raphael saadiq’s “save us” in my head. only it’s saaaaaaaaaaaaave meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee instead.


my stomach & womb are both telling me they’ve had enough. impromptu fast days are the hardest. if you’re a praying person, throw one up for me, will ya?

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