Random questions

Who do you love more. 

The idea of being loved, or actually loving yourself 

Because when you’re treated not as you should, when your expectations aren’t met, what are you willing to sacrifice to feel what those precious moments give you. 

Do the actions match the words you hear? 

How many chances do you give before you realize every chance is taken for granted. Because once you say it the first time, it’s not a mistake, they are making a choice. 

How long do you try. At what point is your happiness, the love you deserve, and your peace matter more than having someone?  


Everybody has choices. 

Our responses are our responsibility. 

Every time the name arises, I steal artery to ventricle away. 

Try to keep it all separated. 

Turning into mystery and misery. 

Drunk thoughts

Truest words

Compulsion to try something new

But you’re stuck on what was


Which is she, who am I 

Unmatched patterns, pulling to find silver lining  

Doubt planted, seeds growing, roots settling. 

Too tired to fight it. Why pull the weeds

It will be what it will be

Fuck me. 


The paranoia consuming any positive thought. Fear of the unknown and days of unspoken concerns. I’m running in circles. Within the maze I try to find the truth. To find the right way but there isn’t one. Broken latches that held it all together become more unhinged, you try to slow it down. Before the point of no return. Before there’s nothing to return to. How can you. You don’t know the truth. 

Down the Rabbit Hole: 1

I used to think that I was above wanting to prove something to my parents. I thought that I could care less about their approval. Maybe for somethings I don’t, but in my head, it was absolutely nothing. I wonder what it is that programs us, what is that pushes us to want to make our parents happy; albeit the bad things they may have done to us.

I ask myself ask that question all the time. And a part of me has always believed that my parents could be better people. Yet and still I hold on to the people they used to be. It makes no sense. It’s like on one side, I wanted better, but when they became somewhat better, I didn’t accept it. Everyday I wake up and expect them to still be the people that they used to be. It’s pathetic. Why pray for better and then not accept it or be open to it?

On the other side, you fight to be different. You fight to be a better person than they are/were. You fight to see all of their errors so that you don’t make the same ones. But what does that really do? For me it just hardens my heart towards them. I am isolated in my home and I’m not the only one. Each of us seem to have our own separate lives that we keep the other people in this house out of. I learned something about my brother that made me angry and sad, but where was I? He’s grown up now, and I didn’t help at all. I was too bitter that he was/is their favorite child. I was hateful towards him, spiteful even, for all of the beatings he never got that I did. For the lies he told that induced more beatings. For the love he seemed to get that I never got. For him KNOWING he was the favorite, and reminding me at the most inopportune moments that pushed me away from him. By the time he realized what he was doing, we already had a huge space between us. By the time I realized that mattered, I was away at college, wondering if he felt like I abandoned him.By then, it’s too late. We’re better now, but we let so much space get between us that we miss a lot.

I love my siblings, but I’ve noticed that my grasp of family, of sacrificing for my family is different. My other siblings, from my biological father, have a strong sense of family. Regardless of feeling sick or tired, they’ll still make time to go spend time with each other during gatherings. They’re there for each other, and they’re super supportive. They have this idea that no matter what, family comes first. It’s not like that for me, but I’m changing that. I see better, and I’m determined to open myself up to being more loving in my family. At some point, I have to stop allowing things from my past to hinder my growth. I have a lot to say, a lot I want to get off my chest. I know that’s what’s stopped me from moving on. I’ve always been that way. If I can’t say what I need I harbor whatever is bothering me so close that it becomes a part of who I am. I want to learn to let things go.

Even while I write this I’m thinking about so many things…all the times someone told me to suck it up and stop crying, “what happens at home stays at home”, “don’t tell anyone”, and all the other bs. Sometimes I don’t feel like I’ve really made any freaking process. That the last couple years have just been an act. That I’m a phony, and all the things that I thought I was better at, were just things I were play doing. Maybe I’m just being hard on myself. Or just moving through all this nonsense…who knows

30 for 30

I feel like every time I have a new set of 10, I have to find some sort of huge idea, or something super emotional, but today I don’t think that’s where I’m going. Today I think I’m just gonna talk about something I’m pretty sure most of us have gone through and or are going through. I wrote this in my notebook 4weeks ago, but it seems like it has a long time to be relevant. Dating. Or. Maybe not dating, but still dating. 

Trying to date or get to know someone has to be one of the most irritating of processes when done the world’s way. The way it’s set up now, you can go from talking everyday to not talking at all in the matter of a day. No explanation, no conversation as to why, and feeling completely confused as to how to proceed. I’m socially challenged, and I’ve said this multiple times before. I’m pretty sure everybody who knows me knows this already. Anyway, it takes me, took me, maybe still taking me, awhile to see and understand what was happening when someone dropped off the face of the earth. Ignored text, no calls, little too then no text at all, then the biggest thing of all, spending no time together. I thought it meant the person was busy. Now I know better. Now I know it means he’s just not that into you.

There’s also this new thing called a situationship. I have found it to be uncontrollably rampant in my generation, and the generation following mine. It’s crazy me. Date, but don’t have a title, don’t have exclusion, don’t catch feelings, but do have sex with that person, do spend time with that person, do text and call that person, and do get used to being together with that person without being together with that person. I won’t lie, in my younger days that seemed attractive in a way. Get what you want without the foreboding disappointments that come with official relationships. Once I matured, I realized the title doesn’t dictate anything to me. It doesn’t protect my feelings either, so why do all that just to have to adjust to being truly single again? 

That’s pointless, and it’s irritating as all get out. So at 25, well almost, I have no desire to do that foolishness. And after an entire train wreck of poor choices with college and post college boyfriends, I’d like to just chill. I would like to know if I should or should not invest my feelings. I won’t be mad about the time and experiences, those are memories, but it’s my frailty, my huge heart, and my vulnerable heartstrings that I worry about. It’s not being sure, and not trusting myself after a string of utter debacles that make me shudder. I tell myself at least twice a day to not get attached to anyone new. It’s dangerous. Especially when the light is still at the proverbial blinking yellow light. 

I did mention being socially challenged right? That mantra’s the only thing that helps me withold tangling of my heartstrings. Now it takes me time to get attached, and it seems easier for me to just say screw it. That’s not who I want to be, but it seems like the best medicine for these back and forth, no communication, what are we, if we’re anything at all relationships. 

Don’t get me wrong. I am all for building through friendship. I actually think it’s amazing now that I’ve experienced it. There’s no pressure to fake, or put on your best self because you’re friends and your friends see you at your ugliest! There’s no pressure to date or rush into a relationship that you may not have any need or use for. It’s like going with the flow instead of creating some man-made stream that has no natural support. Only thing is, it still involves communication on what each person wants, and where each person sees it going. Without that, it just turns into another situationship. It turns into another moment of confusion. 

Thank You

I just wanted to make a quick post to update on my mindset, and how I’ve been feeling the last few days. Health wise, I’ve been having a rough go of it. My vision has been blurring and flashing more than usual, headaches are back to being daily, body pains, problems with my speech, and major fatigue. It has been a little rough. Even when dealing with those things, I really am only bothered when it comes to my speech, dementia, and fatigue.

I’ve always been an active person, especially at night. I am a night owl by trade; so much so my dad used to frequently call me Vampire. I couldn’t help it; 1am-6am are the hours of my muse. I’m also big on going out. EVERYONE who knows me knows I love going out and hanging out with the people I care about. The dementia is a beast in and of itself. I’d been noticing my memory and temperament slipping for the last few weeks, but chucked it up to me just being tired and missing things. Having a diagnosis, albeit it’s negative stigma, I am positive that in a few weeks of serious health tending, I will be better than I was. Anyway…

I’m not sad anymore. I’d like to say I’m not overwhelmed either, but some moments I am (personally that’s a lot better than feeling like I’m drowning every second). I can say that I’m hopeful. For a while I’d lost hope and felt defeated by everything I have going on. I’ve determined that even though this all sucks majorly, I’m going to be as positive as I can be, and use my support system. I know a couple of my post where negative, but if I only post the positive, I feel dishonest because I have those days (sometimes those weeks).

Regardless, I have been touched by those who have taken the time to read my blog, to those who have received texted and called, and everyone who has said an encouraging word of support. It probably seems empty to them, or like it isn’t enough, but its hope and love to me.

So thank you.

The Help

Watching this and a lot of what the movie represents, is still relevant. Black mothers still are telling their Black daughters to watch their mouths, not to sass, not to be outspoken. When we go to school, we’re told we have to try harder, we have to be better than everyone else to get the same recognition, and that we can’t act the way the other kids act. You can believe this or you cannot. Be the problem or acknowledge it.

When I was in college, I took Sociology of gender, and racial and cultural minorities. Often times, both classes would be speaking on similar issues. I specifically remember reading a dissertation about Black children. The teachers, even black ones, would tell their Black students they couldn’t have fun the way white children could. One specific story was about a black girl who was having a bad day and yelled, her teacher told her she didn’t have the luxury of expressing herself that way.

Why is it, that these messages are still being passed down. Why is it when you see a group of black students you want to tell them they can’t stand around, that they need to be productive? Don’t they know everyone is watching them? Waiting for them to mess up? That’s a deep seeded sociological and social issue. Whether black or white, we have to stop thinking this way and putting it, forcing it, on our kids. We should teach them to be the best, so that they can be proud, so they can say they did their best, not because they need to prove anything to anyone.

I look back at who I used to be. I’ve lost the brave girl, she never took any bull, now I take a good bit. The more I acknowledge it, the closer I get to getting her back. That’s the beauty of our time. Even with the rampant racist, sexist, and ignorant bs, we can do better. We can acknowledge our flaws and change them. Instead of focusing on changing everyone else, we change, we don’t take an eye for an eye (even when it feels like the most relieving thing to do), we give love even when it hurts.

I still struggle to continue being a loving person. I struggle not to turn into a cold person. Every time someone hurts me, it gets easier to want to be cold, but harder to actually do it. So, be honest with yourself. If you know you’re a liar, fess it up, and do better. If you know you’re a nasty manipulator, stop using your ability negatively. Manipulate people to be happy, to love more, don’t hurt them. We all have gifts, use them to help others and maybe we can finally get some progress that isn’t just face value.

Black Girl, PWI: “You write black stuff?”

A great dialogue about how White washed our media is.

He tried so hard to be polite but averted his eyes as he asked. My stomach sank because I didn’t know if this was the moment to check him or let it ride.

So I found a happy-medium answer:

(via Giphy))

He went on to ask if there were any mainstream publications I might write for that had ‘black sections’. Really, it sounded like, “Why don’t you go to the section white people created for you instead of going to a black media outlet?”

The answer I wished I said:

I hope to work where I can flip or scroll through the text and see more than unremarkable content that lets white people set the standards of beauty, intellect and historical significance. Where they won’t offer a tutorial on how to moisturize black hair while using a cartoon that resembles Sandra Bullock. To read a profile on Viola Davis sans backhanded…

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