Our Goal as unit is to:
*help each other become better poets
*Stay together
*Be understanding
*Be an active listener
*Be Open and honest
*Keep appointments or give adequate notice
*It is Mikena job's to keep Dominique on focus
*Dominique must try her best to stay on focus
*We will give honest and helpful feedback
Our Production Goals by August 30th are to:
*Finish Bohemian Dreamer CD and Something about Caramel
*Finish Mikena's Music/Poetry
*Have DVD stuff with Denver people accomplished.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
253/365 You Get Me High
Some people have the ability to catch your eye without even noticing,
to sweep you off your feet without even the remnants of a broom.
I never seem to pour love into anything tangible,
It's always things too big for me to grasp.
Like poetry,
the entire continent of Africa
and you.
You hit my world like a tornado when I was just opening up the window for a breeze.
flung into my face things I never thought I wanted but suddenly became so necessary,
When you held me,
I often felt like a kid on a water slide; innocent without a sense of control
but the last time I was young and lost control,
I ended up in the hands of a man who tore from me the only innocence I had left.
I'm sorry,
that what could have been a blissful experience with you
turned into a reenactment of the traumatizing experience with him.
Thank you for refusing to play his part.
I never wrote us a proper break-up poem..
Shoved it somewhere between my collection of crosses and ankhs
my religion and reality
Slap it on the list of things I've been meaning to let go of.
But I stay holding on to both
stretching arms
and tearing torso across repelling forces
because polar opposites are far too alike to attract.
I bruised you,
Licked poems into your skin
with my blood raising pen
And as I watched the words settle,
watch the wounds heal,
I'd kiss the spot just to see the ripples
the venom from my lips created.
I never wrote us a proper break-up poem.
Crumbled paper
like the dried flowers petals
and sprinkled it over your bed sheets so you'd never forget my scent,
never forget the smell of a girl deflowered before her time.
Put my rape poem on repeat in your room
so you...
to sweep you off your feet without even the remnants of a broom.
I never seem to pour love into anything tangible,
It's always things too big for me to grasp.
Like poetry,
the entire continent of Africa
and you.
You hit my world like a tornado when I was just opening up the window for a breeze.
flung into my face things I never thought I wanted but suddenly became so necessary,
When you held me,
I often felt like a kid on a water slide; innocent without a sense of control
but the last time I was young and lost control,
I ended up in the hands of a man who tore from me the only innocence I had left.
I'm sorry,
that what could have been a blissful experience with you
turned into a reenactment of the traumatizing experience with him.
Thank you for refusing to play his part.
I never wrote us a proper break-up poem..
Shoved it somewhere between my collection of crosses and ankhs
my religion and reality
Slap it on the list of things I've been meaning to let go of.
But I stay holding on to both
stretching arms
and tearing torso across repelling forces
because polar opposites are far too alike to attract.
I bruised you,
Licked poems into your skin
with my blood raising pen
And as I watched the words settle,
watch the wounds heal,
I'd kiss the spot just to see the ripples
the venom from my lips created.
I never wrote us a proper break-up poem.
Crumbled paper
like the dried flowers petals
and sprinkled it over your bed sheets so you'd never forget my scent,
never forget the smell of a girl deflowered before her time.
Put my rape poem on repeat in your room
so you...
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
252/365 Letters 88
Dear Kyle,
You suck! I don't like you right now. Which probably cause I'm blowing shit out of proportion but in truthfully, you hurt me and you haven't stopped and without your sweet, but false, words to calm me down right now, I'm just getting angrier.
So we need to talk it out so I can lose the bitterness. I need you to know that I don't trust because you are unreliable and that is just the pure truth and there is nothing to be said about that because we both know it's true. I am not going to open up to you the same way anymore.
For someone who's so concerned about when I get back, you're not paying very much attention to me.
I think you're full of it babe, I'm sick of hearing what I want to hear only to find out soon after that it's fully false. I don't know, I don't know how you fit into my life. You hurt me, and I don't know how much of that is your fault, my fault or the fault of those that came before you.
But seriously, in what world does an effective wake up call take a week to wake you. You're full of it babe. I love you, but you're full of it. I can't keep doing this with you. I'm not the most whole person when it comes to receiving the love of a man, or believing it's still going to be there, so I'm trying but I need consistency. I know you never asked to be the man to show me that men can love me for more than my body. I know that's a huge task, probably to big a task for a fallible human. It's my job not to get so attached.
So I guess at the end of the day I'm just telling you that I'm backing up. I wish you could help me. You're so good at advice, so good at telling me what I need to hear. I guess that's a blessing and a curse.
You suck! I don't like you right now. Which probably cause I'm blowing shit out of proportion but in truthfully, you hurt me and you haven't stopped and without your sweet, but false, words to calm me down right now, I'm just getting angrier.
So we need to talk it out so I can lose the bitterness. I need you to know that I don't trust because you are unreliable and that is just the pure truth and there is nothing to be said about that because we both know it's true. I am not going to open up to you the same way anymore.
For someone who's so concerned about when I get back, you're not paying very much attention to me.
I think you're full of it babe, I'm sick of hearing what I want to hear only to find out soon after that it's fully false. I don't know, I don't know how you fit into my life. You hurt me, and I don't know how much of that is your fault, my fault or the fault of those that came before you.
But seriously, in what world does an effective wake up call take a week to wake you. You're full of it babe. I love you, but you're full of it. I can't keep doing this with you. I'm not the most whole person when it comes to receiving the love of a man, or believing it's still going to be there, so I'm trying but I need consistency. I know you never asked to be the man to show me that men can love me for more than my body. I know that's a huge task, probably to big a task for a fallible human. It's my job not to get so attached.
So I guess at the end of the day I'm just telling you that I'm backing up. I wish you could help me. You're so good at advice, so good at telling me what I need to hear. I guess that's a blessing and a curse.
251/365 Letters 87
Dear Dude,
It would appear I want this to happen. I set myself up for this. It's like I do it for fun. It would be so simple. Don't call you, don't involve you, don't rely on you. That actually doesn't even sound easy.... What's wrong with me dude? What's wrong with you? Why will you always choose weed over those you love, those who love you. Me. I'd do anything for you. I need you right now. Ugh. I know who you are, how unreliable. But I know
...
It would appear I want this to happen. I set myself up for this. It's like I do it for fun. It would be so simple. Don't call you, don't involve you, don't rely on you. That actually doesn't even sound easy.... What's wrong with me dude? What's wrong with you? Why will you always choose weed over those you love, those who love you. Me. I'd do anything for you. I need you right now. Ugh. I know who you are, how unreliable. But I know
...
Monday, May 16, 2011
250/365 Domestic Violence
Do you remember the first time we met?
I thought you were angel.
The way the light bounced off your skin
like a halo
I thought you had the things that could make me feel whole.
and you’d buy me things,
flowers and cashmeres scarves.
I didn’t realize you were just gonna end up leaving finger-prints.
I am walking crime scene.
The first time you hit me,
I stared at soiled hand print on my face for hours
and I remember thinking how beautiful it made me
How lucky I was
to be able to wear proof or your love just above my eye-brow.
The first time you punched me
I could have sworn I tasted affection on your knuckles.
But I never understood the names you called me
or the fact that you never let me out the house.
But everything out my window just looked like the reflections of a warped mind.
I was disillusioned.
Thinking you hit because you cared
kept me because you wanted me
Shackled me out of love
But I hear your tongue rape my name every time it's on your lips.
You’re an abusive lover
You’ve carved vulgarities into my bones that I didn’t even know you knew
The concept of viciousness envies you
and you’re ability to deliver flowers to me in the shapes violet roses
blooming in my skin,
to wrap cashmere scarves around my neck
and tug
Until the bruises on my skin,
become the flowers on my grave.
But this isn’t eulogy.
I moved places and changed my name
just to show you I’m not the girl you once knew.
I’m shedding skin and useless memories
in the pile of the forgotten you are among them.
That night,
I left you
silent distant
I discovered resistance
I thought you were angel.
The way the light bounced off your skin
like a halo
I thought you had the things that could make me feel whole.
and you’d buy me things,
flowers and cashmeres scarves.
I didn’t realize you were just gonna end up leaving finger-prints.
I am walking crime scene.
The first time you hit me,
I stared at soiled hand print on my face for hours
and I remember thinking how beautiful it made me
How lucky I was
to be able to wear proof or your love just above my eye-brow.
The first time you punched me
I could have sworn I tasted affection on your knuckles.
But I never understood the names you called me
or the fact that you never let me out the house.
But everything out my window just looked like the reflections of a warped mind.
I was disillusioned.
Thinking you hit because you cared
kept me because you wanted me
Shackled me out of love
But I hear your tongue rape my name every time it's on your lips.
You’re an abusive lover
You’ve carved vulgarities into my bones that I didn’t even know you knew
The concept of viciousness envies you
and you’re ability to deliver flowers to me in the shapes violet roses
blooming in my skin,
to wrap cashmere scarves around my neck
and tug
Until the bruises on my skin,
become the flowers on my grave.
But this isn’t eulogy.
I moved places and changed my name
just to show you I’m not the girl you once knew.
I’m shedding skin and useless memories
in the pile of the forgotten you are among them.
That night,
I left you
silent distant
I discovered resistance
249/365 To Kyle
"Forgiveness is the release of all hope for a better past."
"This, it's an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go. It was not my intention to make such a production out of the emptiness between us."
"Don't hold it against my love, you know I wanna breathe deeper than this. I didn't mean to look so serious. Didn't mean to act like a filthy floor. Didn't mean to turn us into some cutting board."
"And I know it left me lookin like a knife fight."
"I know it left me feelin like a shot gun shell."
"There are ways around being the go to person everybody. Even for ourselves. Even when the answer is clear."-Buddy Wakefiled
"I'm sorry you have been burdened by this letterIt must be heavyThe world weighs 5.98 x 10^24 kg and that's a lot to put to paper but I am tryingbecause you have to know I loved you"-Amy Everhart
"I fear your freedom. Therefore I must fear my own. You are a changing [man]. I recognize you. And am trying to free you of me. It is your freedom that I love. I have not yet learned to love without holding on."-Saul Williams
248/365 Reaching
I don't feel like I got all that I needed to say out. You were tired and I was in a weird mood.
I don't know, I just hope that what I admitted to you doesn't discredit everything I've said in your mind and I hope it doesn't make you feel like anything you have gotten me through wasn't real. I wasn't raped twice but was raped and molested and I needed a solider to get me through some of that battlefield. And you were there and you open me up to a world in me that I didn't even know.
I don't know, I just hope that what I admitted to you doesn't discredit everything I've said in your mind and I hope it doesn't make you feel like anything you have gotten me through wasn't real. I wasn't raped twice but was raped and molested and I needed a solider to get me through some of that battlefield. And you were there and you open me up to a world in me that I didn't even know.
And I didn't know that I was capable of such evil. But I'm glad that you showed me I was... I'm glad you showed me a lot of things.
I'm no better than Libby and things with us went sour quickly and I am jst rambling because I didn't sleep before I wrote you this and reset my mood so I realize that that was a bad idea.
I'm sorry, I made a big deal out of the color book. I want you to have it. The idea that it is going unused kind of bugs me but I also don't want you to feel obligated to use it. I don't know, maybe it's a representation of our relationship. I think it is. We are supposed to be goofy friends that make each other feel like kids. We shouldn't be this heavy. So maybe, one day, we'll colored in it together and you will want to. And maybe you won't think twice before you lay your hands on me or hold me and I won't "melt." Maybe, I won't ever have to wonder if you'll show up when we set a hang out time. I don't know, I think it represents who we're supposed to be but I could be reaching.
Anyway, I know you forgive me but just...I'm really worried that it somehow takes away from what we meant to each other or what we had or what we did or we are or what I've done for you or any of the memories that I hold so dear because even though that white-as-snowflake-lie turned into a snowball it doesn't change the way it felt to me. And what it did for me.
yeah...I just needed you to know that. And I respect what you're doing, your taking yourself out of any drama that doesn't deal with you and your betterment and you can't know how much I will respect that. i think I'm going to do a similar thing and, in the mist of it, kind of disappear from you life a bit. i know you don't need my shit on your shoulders
247/365 Letters 86
Dear Kyle,
Sup? Yeah...I'm back. I have these moments. I realized something; the very thing I've been fighting for this whole time. You recognized it first.
I'm fighting for the girl you fell in love with, the one you said anything to get, the one you wrote poets about. I've never actually been her except on stage. I know you saw her...I didn't. Not really.
I fronted like I knew but the truth is she's trapped. Behind so much pain and past and distrust, scars and bars that have her locked down.
She is what I'm fighting for. Because you were right, she is beautiful. A nameless wind, universal, passionate, devoted and so honest affectionate. There's got to be a reason I find myself walking around like a Queen. Or hovering just above the ground like a Goddess pretending to be human.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
246/365 In the moment free-write
All we know for sure, is all that we've been fighting for.
Don't ever forget, we haven't lost it all yet.
I don't know. I'm sure it's stupid and I can't get mad because I'm hardly there for my friends when I feel like their being over-dramatic.
The truth of the matter is, I'm just to in to myself. This summer, I've gotta spend sometime helping others, observing and helping other's process.
Just to switch things up a bit, I need to avoid the limelight. remembering, of course, that my reward is in heaven.
I'm not entirely sure how this should be done. But I trust the universe will give me signals, intuition and such to guide me.
It all turns out well ;)
P.S. Let's blog about it. Maybe even documentary?
Don't ever forget, we haven't lost it all yet.
I don't know. I'm sure it's stupid and I can't get mad because I'm hardly there for my friends when I feel like their being over-dramatic.
The truth of the matter is, I'm just to in to myself. This summer, I've gotta spend sometime helping others, observing and helping other's process.
Just to switch things up a bit, I need to avoid the limelight. remembering, of course, that my reward is in heaven.
I'm not entirely sure how this should be done. But I trust the universe will give me signals, intuition and such to guide me.
It all turns out well ;)
P.S. Let's blog about it. Maybe even documentary?
245/365 Empowerment Free-write #2
"I am a super-girl and I'm here to save the world."Power as a woman.
You want honesty?
I've never thought about it.
In fact this is my first time even hearing the idea
and when I hear it,
honestly,
I went women have power?!
I didn't know that.
But believe me,
it's make sense.
Why would they need to work so hard to restrict us
if they weren't so afraid.
So, how do I use this power.
Is it in the eyes,
my spine,
strut
or cleavage?
Where can I find this power
and how do I put it to work for me?
We seem pretty weak to me.
But then,
I know the power centuries of hidden fictionalized history holds.
"That's what they want you to think."
I have that phrase,
it's got social conspiracist written all over it
which has crazy written all over it.
But then, that's what they want you to think....
Friday, May 13, 2011
244/365 Empowerment Free-write #1
1Today I wanna talk about what you see when you look at me,
my curves,
my hips,
the nervousness.
Should I be ashamed?
Because I've heard women are the ones to blame?
When your eyes land on my body
and you suddenly feel a rise,
am I at fault?
It's amazing the shame you feel in you body,
so much so that you would take it out me.
Could blame me.
The shame you feel is not my concern,
I refuse to be unnerved.
In booty shorts and a tank-top.
I'm tired of it.
Tired of asking my friends if I wear this
does it make me a slut?
It's become such a part of our vocab.
Slut
Whore
Bitch
Skank
We've begun to believe them when they tell us we asked for it.
The sexual harassment,
the too long glance
the name calling
and the grasping
and we believe them
because deep down,
we want their attention.
But not like this.
Not this degrading.
No one wants to feel like an object.
my curves,
my hips,
the nervousness.
Should I be ashamed?
Because I've heard women are the ones to blame?
When your eyes land on my body
and you suddenly feel a rise,
am I at fault?
It's amazing the shame you feel in you body,
so much so that you would take it out me.
Could blame me.
The shame you feel is not my concern,
I refuse to be unnerved.
In booty shorts and a tank-top.
I'm tired of it.
Tired of asking my friends if I wear this
does it make me a slut?
It's become such a part of our vocab.
Slut
Whore
Bitch
Skank
We've begun to believe them when they tell us we asked for it.
The sexual harassment,
the too long glance
the name calling
and the grasping
and we believe them
because deep down,
we want their attention.
But not like this.
Not this degrading.
No one wants to feel like an object.
243/365 Letters 85
Dear Kyle,
Hey buddy.
First thing's first, I love you. That hasn't even closed to changed.
Second, I'm here for you. If you're life gets to be too much or you need advice or just need someone to talk to, I'm your girl. That will never change.
What will changes is me. I am a changing woman, Kyle. Recognize that. There will be moments when I need freedom from you. This is one of those moments.
I don't want to talk to you right now. Not because I'm mad at you but because I'm not good at pretending everything's okay and what I need to say to you would be unfair to say in any other media but in person. I don't want to tell you when I get back because I want to break the habit of longing to see you every time I hit Denver's soil.
Let it be for a bit.
Trust that I want the best for us, but foremost I need the best for me. So let me do my thing!
Much love
Hey buddy.
First thing's first, I love you. That hasn't even closed to changed.
Second, I'm here for you. If you're life gets to be too much or you need advice or just need someone to talk to, I'm your girl. That will never change.
What will changes is me. I am a changing woman, Kyle. Recognize that. There will be moments when I need freedom from you. This is one of those moments.
I don't want to talk to you right now. Not because I'm mad at you but because I'm not good at pretending everything's okay and what I need to say to you would be unfair to say in any other media but in person. I don't want to tell you when I get back because I want to break the habit of longing to see you every time I hit Denver's soil.
Let it be for a bit.
Trust that I want the best for us, but foremost I need the best for me. So let me do my thing!
Much love
242/365 Letters 84
"Some people try
they try to rob your heart blind.
Try to control your mind
tellin', tellin' you that everything's fine.
But I won't be a fool.
I come from a different school.
Where my momma is mighty
where she dances and rules.
So give me any mountain
and I shall climb.
Climb to it's peaks
and kiss the golden sky.
I guess you gotta know the target
before you aim.
Guess you gotta treat pleasure
and pain the same. "-Trevor Hall
"And this is how
you remind me
of what I really am."-Nickleback
Dear Franklin,
I have no interest in being a subject in being a subject studied and compared to your Psychology book. Get a lab rat. I don't know why I would ever find it appealing to lay on your slat and be dissected, have you view my pain just to sow me up and send my on my way. I will not exchange love letters for entries in your scientific journal.
"Thank you for bringing me to this place"Are you kidding me? It does not matter to me that you say that your do not intend to hurt me when you already have. That means either you do intend hurt me, or you have terrible aim. Either way, you're not very trustworthy.
241/365 Conversations with Other Woman
Hi Moor, it's Dominique!
I was calling to let you know that I've been thinking about my reasons for going to therapy and I think that I've achieved the goals I have set for myself and that it's time for me to continue my healing process in a different way.
Well, I've been talking to the women in my life since our last session and it just feels a lot more plausible that I would be able to let my wall down with them because I know them better and have more time with them.
I wanna thank you so much. It was very valuable working with you.
I was calling to let you know that I've been thinking about my reasons for going to therapy and I think that I've achieved the goals I have set for myself and that it's time for me to continue my healing process in a different way.
Well, I've been talking to the women in my life since our last session and it just feels a lot more plausible that I would be able to let my wall down with them because I know them better and have more time with them.
I wanna thank you so much. It was very valuable working with you.
240/365 In case you were curious
What is my father like you may ask.
Well, I don’t know, I’ve never met him,
BUT I can gather somethings based upon the pattern of men
I have dated and/or been attracted to. Observe:
1. Whooo he’s a smooth talker. Could make the color blue
become red if he talked to it enough. Tell it anything, I mean
anything, it wants to hear. Oh, and he’s so good at it.
2. Inconsistent. Love ‘em, leave ‘em, and then repeat,
just to make sure it is clear to both parties that HE was
NOT the one who got played. This much is important to his pride.
3. Loves the word sorry. Loves watching the sound waves be absorbed
by women’s ears and then manifested in the curves of the smile as he knows
he didn’t mean it. He just loves to watch weeks of pain be undone in one sentence.
Great source of power.
4. Hardly ever means what he says. Especially if it’s a good thing.
5. Takes on the caring person. He really just wants to observe ancient ruins, take
pictures and tell his friends he was there, that he now knows the history of it. He
has no intention of helping to rebuild.
Well, I don’t know, I’ve never met him,
BUT I can gather somethings based upon the pattern of men
I have dated and/or been attracted to. Observe:
1. Whooo he’s a smooth talker. Could make the color blue
become red if he talked to it enough. Tell it anything, I mean
anything, it wants to hear. Oh, and he’s so good at it.
2. Inconsistent. Love ‘em, leave ‘em, and then repeat,
just to make sure it is clear to both parties that HE was
NOT the one who got played. This much is important to his pride.
3. Loves the word sorry. Loves watching the sound waves be absorbed
by women’s ears and then manifested in the curves of the smile as he knows
he didn’t mean it. He just loves to watch weeks of pain be undone in one sentence.
Great source of power.
4. Hardly ever means what he says. Especially if it’s a good thing.
5. Takes on the caring person. He really just wants to observe ancient ruins, take
pictures and tell his friends he was there, that he now knows the history of it. He
has no intention of helping to rebuild.
239/365 Letters 83
Hello Moor,
This is Dominique, I was calling to let you know that I was thinking about the original reasons I went to therapy and I feel that I have reached my goals in terms of having a better understanding of my behavior and how to combat negative thoughts.
At this point in my healing process, I think the best step for me would be to begin opening up to the women in my life that I know and feel well acquainted with. I've already begun trying since our last session and it's difficult but it's getting easier and feeling organic.
Anyway, I want to thank you for all your help and insight. It certainly was valuable.
If you have any questions just give me call back. I have a meeting tonight so if you get my voice-mail just leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. OK, have a good one.
BYE!
This is Dominique, I was calling to let you know that I was thinking about the original reasons I went to therapy and I feel that I have reached my goals in terms of having a better understanding of my behavior and how to combat negative thoughts.
At this point in my healing process, I think the best step for me would be to begin opening up to the women in my life that I know and feel well acquainted with. I've already begun trying since our last session and it's difficult but it's getting easier and feeling organic.
Anyway, I want to thank you for all your help and insight. It certainly was valuable.
If you have any questions just give me call back. I have a meeting tonight so if you get my voice-mail just leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. OK, have a good one.
BYE!
238/365 Free-write on bus :)
What do you do when you find out an entire house is invested with termites.
Do you burn it down?
Is it even worth keeping?
Termites that chew straight through oak,
mahogany and the occasional chestnut.
Do you even bother trying to say an already disintegrating house?
Or do you just let it eat itself to death?
My mind is filled with these termites.
Men enter made of all different types of trees
and I devour them.
It's an obsessive habit.
I'm beginning to wonder if I'm even worth saving.
Do you burn it down?
Is it even worth keeping?
Termites that chew straight through oak,
mahogany and the occasional chestnut.
Do you even bother trying to say an already disintegrating house?
Or do you just let it eat itself to death?
My mind is filled with these termites.
Men enter made of all different types of trees
and I devour them.
It's an obsessive habit.
I'm beginning to wonder if I'm even worth saving.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
237/365 Free-write for To The Other Woman
Dear,
He is old to be your grandfather
and I am old enough to be your teacher so listen closely.
if you insist on being with him.
Throw out everything you thought would be your perfect ending.
Fairy tales have no place here
So take off your sparkly princess ball gown and
lose both the glass slippers
Disney did you an injustice.
He may drape you in pretty fabric and jewels now
but he will grow tired of you.
Cold and compassionless.
Learn the heat of his touch quickly
there is not much time before you lost it.
Walk gently.
Quit your boundless skipping that solid around your used to is only a ticking bomb away from eggshell.
Memories the melody in his voice
when his Boa Constrictor silence creeps around you throat
you will notice the life lines in your hands don't curve as long as they used to
and winkles have made their home in your precious face.
He is old to be your grandfather
and I am old enough to be your teacher so listen closely.
if you insist on being with him.
Throw out everything you thought would be your perfect ending.
Fairy tales have no place here
So take off your sparkly princess ball gown and
lose both the glass slippers
Disney did you an injustice.
He may drape you in pretty fabric and jewels now
but he will grow tired of you.
Cold and compassionless.
Learn the heat of his touch quickly
there is not much time before you lost it.
Walk gently.
Quit your boundless skipping that solid around your used to is only a ticking bomb away from eggshell.
Memories the melody in his voice
when his Boa Constrictor silence creeps around you throat
you will notice the life lines in your hands don't curve as long as they used to
and winkles have made their home in your precious face.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
236/365 To the Other Woman 2
To the other woman,
The first time he mentioned your name,
I imagined something more impressive
than this.
In fact,
the first time he even told me you existed,
I had to think I'd be looking at someone who could even fake my stature.
Child,
I bet your frail bones creak more than the bed when he makes love to you.,
You are more wet behind the ears than he could ever get you wet in-between your legs,
and your hands are nowhere near long enough to do the job mine's do.
But when I watched your tiny hand
replace mine
in his
my sweat took on colors
and a mind of it's own.
Rush delivered itself to the places his torso would miss the most.
Like the palms of my hands.
I curved my wrist
and let Salvador slip to my fingertips
and traced the places in my room where he left his scent
to leave these concrete reminders that he had ever been there
so that I wouldn't drive myself crazy
swiping at memories like mirages.
And if you ever catch yourself
wishing your hands could get as sweaty as mine
when you feel he warm breath on the back of your neck,
I want you to pretend.
Pretend you are familiar with slow touch of a man
who can make you orgasm with just the heat in his fingertips,
a caress with a butterfly effect
setting off tidal waves miles down my spine,
Your spine slouches under a weight it is not mature enough to carry,
you wear his love like a burden
do you get tired of bending over?
Of wear make-up and skimpy clothing
to grab the attention of men thrice your age
I don't know how you long you have known him,
rest assure I know him better.
You will never know a man better than when you are first to lay beside him without touching
when the distance between your bodies is no longer measure in inches
but by the miles in his silence,
when
*Because if he could ever not want me,
then he can surely grow tired of you.
*Do you ever grow tired of bending over?
To show men your pink long
beneath the frilly tutu you never gave yourself
the time to grow out of.
The first time he mentioned your name,
I imagined something more impressive
than this.
In fact,
the first time he even told me you existed,
I had to think I'd be looking at someone who could even fake my stature.
Child,
I bet your frail bones creak more than the bed when he makes love to you.,
You are more wet behind the ears than he could ever get you wet in-between your legs,
and your hands are nowhere near long enough to do the job mine's do.
But when I watched your tiny hand
replace mine
in his
my sweat took on colors
and a mind of it's own.
Rush delivered itself to the places his torso would miss the most.
Like the palms of my hands.
I curved my wrist
and let Salvador slip to my fingertips
and traced the places in my room where he left his scent
to leave these concrete reminders that he had ever been there
so that I wouldn't drive myself crazy
swiping at memories like mirages.
And if you ever catch yourself
wishing your hands could get as sweaty as mine
when you feel he warm breath on the back of your neck,
I want you to pretend.
Pretend you are familiar with slow touch of a man
who can make you orgasm with just the heat in his fingertips,
a caress with a butterfly effect
setting off tidal waves miles down my spine,
Your spine slouches under a weight it is not mature enough to carry,
you wear his love like a burden
do you get tired of bending over?
Of wear make-up and skimpy clothing
to grab the attention of men thrice your age
I don't know how you long you have known him,
rest assure I know him better.
You will never know a man better than when you are first to lay beside him without touching
when the distance between your bodies is no longer measure in inches
but by the miles in his silence,
when
*Because if he could ever not want me,
then he can surely grow tired of you.
*Do you ever grow tired of bending over?
To show men your pink long
beneath the frilly tutu you never gave yourself
the time to grow out of.
235/365 Letters 82
Dear Kyle,
I know I don't need to apologize for the past, I know you've already forgiven me and I know it's over. I just, I'm so sorry. For dragging through my warzone and making you deal with my past for making you feel like all I wanted was to fool around for you, for making you seem like the bad guy. It was unfair. I suck for it. And so sorry but at the same time, I have to thank you. I didn't know how much it was affecting me before you. I needed you to show me the immense work that I need to know to beat my past.
With all my love,
Augustine
I know I don't need to apologize for the past, I know you've already forgiven me and I know it's over. I just, I'm so sorry. For dragging through my warzone and making you deal with my past for making you feel like all I wanted was to fool around for you, for making you seem like the bad guy. It was unfair. I suck for it. And so sorry but at the same time, I have to thank you. I didn't know how much it was affecting me before you. I needed you to show me the immense work that I need to know to beat my past.
With all my love,
Augustine
Saturday, April 23, 2011
234/365 Letters 81
Dear Cherie Amor,
you're passing is a shock. it would seem lessons hardly last as long as you expect. I was too busy struggling for the finish line that I didn't see it right beneath my feet. humans are amazing aren't we? so adverse to change that we'll hold on to pain just to avoid it.
I deserved my win tonight. I'e come a long way from the young poet I started out as. I worked hard. I deserve to be rewarded for that. no shame in that. Eve took me forever to write. I was meticulous. win well earned.
Anyhow, I broke it off with Franklin and left it off. It's not the biggest victory in the world but an important one none-the-less. I'm well on my way to learning my worth. I also gave Reggie the boot which is a pretty big battle won. I'm learning the difference between a guy's problems and mines. Remembering not to blame myself and try to fix a relationship with some dude who ain't go the goods no how ;).
I'm going to find the balance with me thanks to you.
Next lesson; kindness.
Thank you for everything. You were amazing!
~Augustine
you're passing is a shock. it would seem lessons hardly last as long as you expect. I was too busy struggling for the finish line that I didn't see it right beneath my feet. humans are amazing aren't we? so adverse to change that we'll hold on to pain just to avoid it.
I deserved my win tonight. I'e come a long way from the young poet I started out as. I worked hard. I deserve to be rewarded for that. no shame in that. Eve took me forever to write. I was meticulous. win well earned.
Anyhow, I broke it off with Franklin and left it off. It's not the biggest victory in the world but an important one none-the-less. I'm well on my way to learning my worth. I also gave Reggie the boot which is a pretty big battle won. I'm learning the difference between a guy's problems and mines. Remembering not to blame myself and try to fix a relationship with some dude who ain't go the goods no how ;).
I'm going to find the balance with me thanks to you.
Next lesson; kindness.
Thank you for everything. You were amazing!
~Augustine
233/365 Letters 80
Dear Seth,
I never gave you anything for basically saving my life. I said thank you, but that was nowhere near enough. You are so kind. I wanted to get you something but my procrastination got in the way. I so apologize. I regret that I was not able to give you something and that I will never see you again. I'm sorry if I treated the gesture as though it were smaller than it was and less than it meant to me. I have a tendency to shrug things off when they're bigger than me, when I feel inadequate.
I hope you realize how great of a thing it was that you did for me, even if my pride could not describe it. I pray karma gives you all the blessings you deserve.
Much love,
Augustine.\
I never gave you anything for basically saving my life. I said thank you, but that was nowhere near enough. You are so kind. I wanted to get you something but my procrastination got in the way. I so apologize. I regret that I was not able to give you something and that I will never see you again. I'm sorry if I treated the gesture as though it were smaller than it was and less than it meant to me. I have a tendency to shrug things off when they're bigger than me, when I feel inadequate.
I hope you realize how great of a thing it was that you did for me, even if my pride could not describe it. I pray karma gives you all the blessings you deserve.
Much love,
Augustine.\
Friday, April 22, 2011
232/365 Persona [30/30]
<3 It's still a blatant lie,
but in my own words...
To the other woman,
The first time he mentioned your name,
I imagined I'd be dealing with something a bit more impressive
than this.
In fact,
the first time
he even told me you even existed
I had to think he was talking about someone who could even fake my stature.
Child,
do your frail bones creak more than the bed when he makes love to you.
You're more wet behind the ears than he could ever get you wet between your legs
Your hands are nowhere near long enough to do the job mines do.
Sweetie....
When I witnessed your tiny hand
replace mine in his
my sweat took on colors
and a mind of it's own.
Rush delivered itself to the places his torso would miss the most.
Like the palms of my hands.
I curved my wrist and let Salvador slip to my fingertips,
trace the places of my room where he left his scent.
Left concrete evidence of his once presence there
so I wouldn't drive myself crazy swiping at memories like mirages.
Do you ever catch yourself wishing
you could get your palms to sweat as much as mine
when you feel his warm breath on the back of your neck.
I want you to pretend.
Pretend his touch excites you as much as it does me,
pretend you are familiar with a slow stroke of man
who make you orgasm with just the heat of his fingertips.
A caress with a butterfly effect,
setting off tidal waves miles down my spine.
Your spine
slouches under a weight you are not strong enough to carry,
wear his love like a burden,
do you ever grow tired of bending over.
You are in a critical stage of physical development,
you stay in that position for too long now,
and you will never grow out of it.
Just know,
my spine never curves.
but in my own words...
To the other woman,
The first time he mentioned your name,
I imagined I'd be dealing with something a bit more impressive
than this.
In fact,
the first time
he even told me you even existed
I had to think he was talking about someone who could even fake my stature.
Child,
do your frail bones creak more than the bed when he makes love to you.
You're more wet behind the ears than he could ever get you wet between your legs
Your hands are nowhere near long enough to do the job mines do.
Sweetie....
When I witnessed your tiny hand
replace mine in his
my sweat took on colors
and a mind of it's own.
Rush delivered itself to the places his torso would miss the most.
Like the palms of my hands.
I curved my wrist and let Salvador slip to my fingertips,
trace the places of my room where he left his scent.
Left concrete evidence of his once presence there
so I wouldn't drive myself crazy swiping at memories like mirages.
Do you ever catch yourself wishing
you could get your palms to sweat as much as mine
when you feel his warm breath on the back of your neck.
I want you to pretend.
Pretend his touch excites you as much as it does me,
pretend you are familiar with a slow stroke of man
who make you orgasm with just the heat of his fingertips.
A caress with a butterfly effect,
setting off tidal waves miles down my spine.
Your spine
slouches under a weight you are not strong enough to carry,
wear his love like a burden,
do you ever grow tired of bending over.
You are in a critical stage of physical development,
you stay in that position for too long now,
and you will never grow out of it.
Just know,
my spine never curves.
231/365 Eve (abandoned) [29/30]
They call me Eve
I was never given a last name
this was only first case of identity theft.
I know what you’ve heard about me.
I was carved out of the ribcage of a man
only as an after thought.
And they told you I’d look differently
But make no mistake,
they have burned down my libraries and tried their best to scorch my memory
but I remember well.
The sweetness of God’s breath on my neck when he whispered me into existence
He told me I’d be the first of this new species
There was no talk of dominion,
but he did teach me a certain harmony with Lady Gaia and told me to embody her beauty.
So I walked tall
Wide hips and extra weight to nourish the children I would carry.
And as they grew, I taught them.
Taught the young, small, weak
taught them plenty.
They came to my crown
and asked how to run their nations
Aristotle, Plato, Socrates
sucked from the supple breast of my knowledge.
Little did I know when I turned my back they’d whip slave ships into it.
and create this Bible
that blames me for the expulsion from the Garden of Eden,
There was a snake that tempted me to leave the promise land
I’m pretty sure those was your chains, guns and aggression.
So was it fruit,
or the middle passage that closed Eden’s gates.
This Bible
that tells me childbirth is a curse,
and that I am the cause.
Well I am sorry,
Sorry that I broke my back to carry your children
but if you ever dared to ask me,
I’d call you the curse
I’ve been called temptress,
but it was you who stripped me naked.
Called me bitch and made me hit my knees until I knew what forbidden fruit really tasted like,
And the abuse didn’t stop after Lincoln,
it was just heavily disguised
as the media,
tossing me a pair of booty shorts and tell me to sway my hips to the rhythm of lynched ancestors because it reminds them of a better time.
They never look me in the eyes
because they want me to forget I have them.
So that I can ignore the Planned Parenthoods huddled around my black neighborhood
With these advertisements,
that make them as appealing as Easy Bake Ovens to child Hitler.
I have been waiting for the UN to step in and label it genocide,
but I’m only met with government officials planting cocaine into my son’s body until he is addicted,
in jail or dead.
I know why they do it.
They see his image in me and fear my wrath.
They sold me as commodity
so I’d forget what I was worth,
but you should have smashed my mirrors first.
Did you think I couldn’t see,
I am the beauty of gold embodied.
Black skin as beautiful as the galaxies they stole from my libraries but NOT from my eyes.
You can keep your idealistic paintings of me
But you will never bleach my skin or straighten my hair.
Forbid the drums of my native tongue
But you will never quiet the lavish language of my dance
I will never lose my kinks,
my fight,
my fire.
Save your cat calls for those deserving
Because I do not play with rats.
You will call me Goddess
or will not address me
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
230/365 Letters 80 [28/30]
Franklin,
You're whack bra! What's the deal? You talk to me only when we're in the same room? Too bad we don't even live in the same state. It's lame, and you're whack for acting like this. Apologizing once for hurting/mistreating me doesn't give you permission to continuing hurting and mistreating me. It makes your apology, though sweet, completely worthless. Forget it!
You're whack bra! What's the deal? You talk to me only when we're in the same room? Too bad we don't even live in the same state. It's lame, and you're whack for acting like this. Apologizing once for hurting/mistreating me doesn't give you permission to continuing hurting and mistreating me. It makes your apology, though sweet, completely worthless. Forget it!
229/365 Persona Idea [27/30]
*When he says he understands what he means is that he feels it.
*I don't know how long you've known beside him without touching
*You well never know a man better than when you are made to lay beside him without touching
*Your body will never fit into his body the way mine did.
How cuddling in the park is always a strain,
I have watched you from a distance pretend as if you are enjoying his arms
*I don't know how long you've known beside him without touching
*You well never know a man better than when you are made to lay beside him without touching
*Your body will never fit into his body the way mine did.
How cuddling in the park is always a strain,
I have watched you from a distance pretend as if you are enjoying his arms
Saturday, April 16, 2011
228/365 Today's Challenge [26/30]
The riverbanks in her thighs
are cradled by a slice of watermelon sun.
Checkered tribes named her.
The ghost letters hang above her head.
She does not remember this name.
Nor can she see it through the fog.
She clings to the only life she has found on a stolen island.
She calls this life.
are cradled by a slice of watermelon sun.
Checkered tribes named her.
The ghost letters hang above her head.
She does not remember this name.
Nor can she see it through the fog.
She clings to the only life she has found on a stolen island.
She calls this life.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
227/365 Letters 79 [25/30]
Dear Alice,
Did I as you how many clubs you were managing? Oh, I didn't. Hmmm, how could I have forgotten to--OH RIGHT, cause I don't give a fuck! I have a job to do, you have a job to do, so I don't want to here it. Maybe if you spent less time answering dumbass questions nobody asked, and a little more time managing your "30 clubs", we wouldn't be wasting both our time with this conversation.
Sincerely,
Handle your shit
Did I as you how many clubs you were managing? Oh, I didn't. Hmmm, how could I have forgotten to--OH RIGHT, cause I don't give a fuck! I have a job to do, you have a job to do, so I don't want to here it. Maybe if you spent less time answering dumbass questions nobody asked, and a little more time managing your "30 clubs", we wouldn't be wasting both our time with this conversation.
Sincerely,
Handle your shit
226/365 Letters 78 [24/30]
Dear Franklin,
About this ability you think you have with "making wonderful moments"
#I'vehadbetter
About this ability you think you have with "making wonderful moments"
#I'vehadbetter
225/365 Police brutality Free-write [23/30]
By your fifteenth donut today,
Did you feel your pig belly drip over your belt,
Did you feel ashamed,
Did you think you could beat the pounds out of an innocent civilian?
Or was this just your way of exercising?
Swine,
Do you feel like more of a man,
now that you've beat another man senseless.
Do you feel like now,
You have been able to thicken the line of inequality
Between the badge and them.
See, I’m a big fan of Trevor Hall,
I sing, “I just want to melt away in all it’s grace,
Drift away to that sacred place,
Where there’s no more you and me,
No more they and we,
Just unity”
Like it’s a religion.
As do my fellow hippies,
We pump our fist into the air like it will change the world,
You pump your fist into our stomach in hopes of destroying ours.
Listen when you beat protesters face into the pavement,
Do you think it will silence the hundreds that came before them?
The millions that will come after,
Is this your way of sweeping injustice under the rug,
Do you think it will solve the problem?
Or do you like to watch the line between classes thicken,
Is that why you so often go for the Hispanics,
The Blacks?
But I know this isn’t about race.
The only difference,
I see between you and is you’re still living of the revenue you forced my ancestors to build for you
On a stolen continent.
God, you’ve got the world fooled.
Ain’t transfer of energy somethin?
You steal, kill and destroy,
Then beat others for pilfering, punching and knocking at your unjust pillar of strength.
Try to act like you don’t miss slavery.
Don’t miss the power.
Don’t miss chopping off limbs,
Separating and crippling
Families in the name of the law.
But I’ve heard epithets ricochet off your lips the same way your bullets
Ricochet through Oscar Grant’s vital organs.
Leaving his four year old daughter fatherless.
Did you liken your self to a Nazi Solider
And feel as though you were purifying the world.
Does the word “nigger”
stain your teeth like the coffee you drink daily?
Is their caffeine in the word,
Do you say it at least five times before you can kiss your daughter on the forehead.
Does the residue of the word,
Cloud her third eye until she grows up seeing the world just like you.
Do you swine,
liken justice seekers to wolves?
liken justice seekers to wolves?
Then you must have forgotten,
Wolves run in packs.
If you outrage one you outrage all.
The more you beat and kill of us the more that will come to fight,
Until the problem is solved,
Until inequality no longer exist,
Until YOU put down your weapon!
Written by Dominique Sample
Thursday, April 7, 2011
224/365 Letters 77 [22/30]
Dear Dominique,
I can no longer allow you to lay in bed complaining about how much weight is on you, how much you have to face and how incapable you are without your "support system." Without your cushy life-style. Without your mother running behind you and fixing your mistakes. Please, don't bore me.
You are making me a fraud. If you had it your way, I would have to change my name to "Stay in one Place Dreamer", "Dream but Don't Act" or "Dreams of Things Only within Her Comfort Zone", none of which sound appealing. I am BOHEMIAN meaning, I have dreams far beyond state lines, continents and seas are but a blur to me. Get with the program or I WILL leave you behind. And you don't want to miss the life I am about to lead.
With Tough Love,
Bohemian Dreamer
I can no longer allow you to lay in bed complaining about how much weight is on you, how much you have to face and how incapable you are without your "support system." Without your cushy life-style. Without your mother running behind you and fixing your mistakes. Please, don't bore me.
You are making me a fraud. If you had it your way, I would have to change my name to "Stay in one Place Dreamer", "Dream but Don't Act" or "Dreams of Things Only within Her Comfort Zone", none of which sound appealing. I am BOHEMIAN meaning, I have dreams far beyond state lines, continents and seas are but a blur to me. Get with the program or I WILL leave you behind. And you don't want to miss the life I am about to lead.
With Tough Love,
Bohemian Dreamer
223/365 [21/30]
it comes to me in waves and I think you should be aware of the impact your ripples create.
222/365 [20/30]
It seems we had two *different* motion pictures of the *same* story running through our minds and I'm stumped. Cause it appears I was stuck, steadfast on a fairytale and reality just struck so here's my bite back. Cause you keep driving me to this and then asking me to turn away, when will my resistance deter you? Why do you insist on testing my love, didn't I tell you it was unconditional? Trying to erode pure steel will not get you anywhere. You were bound to me. And not by my hands either I had no say in the matter so quit fighting me on this!!! The way I see it, and maybe I'm at an awkward angle but you seem somewhat of a coward so do what your kind does best and hide but while you do, keep in mind that I was never quite the fan of hide and seek. Didn't like the idea of someone shoving it in my face that I couldn't have something and then expecting me to chase after it anyway. Why should I, when my video games are so readily accessible? I know exactly where to find my toy bin each and every time so go about your business and mind your own cause I've got options. And I'm sorry, because you're a great guy but the way you treat me is inadequate and it almost makes me wonder why you were alloted the pleasure of knowing me in the first place. So screw it, if we were meant to be then we will be but keep my name off your tongue if we weren't.
221/365 [19/30]
I stumbled across you crying for the third time this week and you called it cathartic. As if depression was meant to be habitual. That's called chronic my love, and they have pills for that. But they wouldn't need them if you would just be honest about what's bugging you.
220/365 Letters 76 [18/30]
Dear Denver,
It would appear as though I am preparing to betray you and consequently, my heart. I love you so much. But I can’t keep running to your arms and leaving to find a shallow home in SF’s whoreish legs. I have to treat her with respect. Love her for the things she has to offer. I have to stop treating her like a four month lay over flight. I am heavily unhappy about this. No, I don’t want to leave it. Ok, I’ve made my decision I’m applying for the only job I can see myself happily working here. I’m going for it. And if I get it, I’m going to commit to my film career and a poetry career in San Francisco. No looking back.
It’s hard enough, I don’t need to hear your voice on my messages. Let’s just call it quits…it’s probably better. If I’m not returning your calls it’s because I’m not coming back, I’m closing the door…
However, if I don’t. Which a part of me is really hoping for. I’m running back to you full speed.
With ALL my love,
Dominique
It would appear as though I am preparing to betray you and consequently, my heart. I love you so much. But I can’t keep running to your arms and leaving to find a shallow home in SF’s whoreish legs. I have to treat her with respect. Love her for the things she has to offer. I have to stop treating her like a four month lay over flight. I am heavily unhappy about this. No, I don’t want to leave it. Ok, I’ve made my decision I’m applying for the only job I can see myself happily working here. I’m going for it. And if I get it, I’m going to commit to my film career and a poetry career in San Francisco. No looking back.
It’s hard enough, I don’t need to hear your voice on my messages. Let’s just call it quits…it’s probably better. If I’m not returning your calls it’s because I’m not coming back, I’m closing the door…
However, if I don’t. Which a part of me is really hoping for. I’m running back to you full speed.
With ALL my love,
Dominique
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
219/365 Letters 75 [17/30]
Dear Cherie Amor,
I have been absolutely terrible about keeping up with my pens and pencils over this break so I can’t write this directly to you. It’s just as well. I have sooo much to talk about. I wish you could have experienced this weekend directly because nothing I could ever say could adequately describe things as they were. Nevertheless, I will try.
It was much like the three days I spent balling my eyes out about “losing” Reggie (amazing how that never happened until I genuinely decided it should. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems…). The similarities did not stop at just because I spent three nights crying, but also because the support system that crawled out of the woodwork when I lost Reggie did the same.
It’s funny when you think about it. When I moved to San Francisco, I felt like I had lost it all. I felt so lost and begun to think that supportive systems were lost when I left high school. Well honestly, last night, I felt like I was right back in the green room that night I BALLED MY EYES OUT! It was that kind of community and connection and I was so grateful. Ugh, ok, ok, let me start from the beginning.
As we know, I have had intentions of making Slam Nuba this year since Ken told me I couldn’t be on it last year. I wanted it really bad. Just as bad as I wanted Reggie junior year of high school. I worked hard for it. Honestly, not as hard as I could’ve worked and I vow not to do that again. But I worked hard, I wanted it, I thought about it all the time. So when this past Friday came along and I didn’t make it…you can only imagine. A good year and a half of wanting it, a good 4 months of working toward it, at least two straight weeks of talking about it, all abolished in one night. How is that possible? Coping with that was a task. Then everyone encouraged me to go out for Mercury Café completely convinced that I would make it. No dice.
Not to mention I did a very honest piece called “Shapes”. It fully breaks down how I feel about being raped and my father leaving. It is worth it to explore further of course but it was about as honest as I could get it in that moment. There’s more, I fear there will always be more. But there will come a time when I just need to let it go. A time when I have dug up enough of my gut, torn my self open and then just need to let it heal. It won’t be perfect, it will always be a wound, always be a scar, but it doesn’t have to hurt anymore and it doesn’t have to affect me. It can be a reminder of the change I want to see in this world. With enough time, attentiveness and Neosporin, it can even be a beautiful thing. Just some more paint splattered on this canvas. Hmmm, I should definitely write that poem once I’ve gone through this wound. I am a masterpiece dark strokes simply enhance. Yin Yang. I think that poem will be my rite of passage. That poem Ayinde was talking about, speaking from the perspective of a healed woman who was abused, giving that strength to others. Goodness, I can’t wait for that day. I will get there.
In the meantime however, it did not do good things to my stomach. And Ayinde is right, I keep a fair distance from the truth of that poem on stage. I don’t know what would happen if I got any closer to it honestly. And it’s not worth it. Luc is right, that poem was for me to purge. I, being the born performer that I am, did not think there was a poem that was not for an audience. Learn something new everyday.
Sincerely,
Augustine
I have been absolutely terrible about keeping up with my pens and pencils over this break so I can’t write this directly to you. It’s just as well. I have sooo much to talk about. I wish you could have experienced this weekend directly because nothing I could ever say could adequately describe things as they were. Nevertheless, I will try.
It was much like the three days I spent balling my eyes out about “losing” Reggie (amazing how that never happened until I genuinely decided it should. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems…). The similarities did not stop at just because I spent three nights crying, but also because the support system that crawled out of the woodwork when I lost Reggie did the same.
It’s funny when you think about it. When I moved to San Francisco, I felt like I had lost it all. I felt so lost and begun to think that supportive systems were lost when I left high school. Well honestly, last night, I felt like I was right back in the green room that night I BALLED MY EYES OUT! It was that kind of community and connection and I was so grateful. Ugh, ok, ok, let me start from the beginning.
As we know, I have had intentions of making Slam Nuba this year since Ken told me I couldn’t be on it last year. I wanted it really bad. Just as bad as I wanted Reggie junior year of high school. I worked hard for it. Honestly, not as hard as I could’ve worked and I vow not to do that again. But I worked hard, I wanted it, I thought about it all the time. So when this past Friday came along and I didn’t make it…you can only imagine. A good year and a half of wanting it, a good 4 months of working toward it, at least two straight weeks of talking about it, all abolished in one night. How is that possible? Coping with that was a task. Then everyone encouraged me to go out for Mercury Café completely convinced that I would make it. No dice.
Not to mention I did a very honest piece called “Shapes”. It fully breaks down how I feel about being raped and my father leaving. It is worth it to explore further of course but it was about as honest as I could get it in that moment. There’s more, I fear there will always be more. But there will come a time when I just need to let it go. A time when I have dug up enough of my gut, torn my self open and then just need to let it heal. It won’t be perfect, it will always be a wound, always be a scar, but it doesn’t have to hurt anymore and it doesn’t have to affect me. It can be a reminder of the change I want to see in this world. With enough time, attentiveness and Neosporin, it can even be a beautiful thing. Just some more paint splattered on this canvas. Hmmm, I should definitely write that poem once I’ve gone through this wound. I am a masterpiece dark strokes simply enhance. Yin Yang. I think that poem will be my rite of passage. That poem Ayinde was talking about, speaking from the perspective of a healed woman who was abused, giving that strength to others. Goodness, I can’t wait for that day. I will get there.
In the meantime however, it did not do good things to my stomach. And Ayinde is right, I keep a fair distance from the truth of that poem on stage. I don’t know what would happen if I got any closer to it honestly. And it’s not worth it. Luc is right, that poem was for me to purge. I, being the born performer that I am, did not think there was a poem that was not for an audience. Learn something new everyday.
Sincerely,
Augustine
218/365 [16/30]
Fishies swimming upstream
with a determination that some
adults would describe as foolish.
This is beyond butterflies,
this utter flight bands
memory of being swept
off feet in a tornado
of passion.
Dance.
Prance,
like smoke bouncing off bedroom walls.
Cell phone shriek
need to hear this.
Electric shock,
without lifesaver
designated driver without the crash.
Desire.
Flash excitement.
No passion.
Thought,
phone calls,
likes you.
And now sleep.
Skip sleep.
Won't work anyway.
Brush teeth,
clean house
anything to spend energy.
with a determination that some
adults would describe as foolish.
This is beyond butterflies,
this utter flight bands
memory of being swept
off feet in a tornado
of passion.
Dance.
Prance,
like smoke bouncing off bedroom walls.
Cell phone shriek
need to hear this.
Electric shock,
without lifesaver
designated driver without the crash.
Desire.
Flash excitement.
No passion.
Thought,
phone calls,
likes you.
And now sleep.
Skip sleep.
Won't work anyway.
Brush teeth,
clean house
anything to spend energy.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
217/365 Shapes [15/30]
Ever notice that when you're looking for something,
everything becomes the exactly same color as what your looking for,
shapes morph into that item
until your looking in the same place fifteen different times
because you know you checked there,
but you don't trust yourself.
Well
unknowingly,
I was looking for my father
when I stumbled across you.
I thought you were an angel,
light bounced off your mahogany skin like a halo.
I thought you had the healing powers I’d been looking for,
Cause I’d been looking for the magical potions that could make to feel whole.
I thought if you held me,
you could erase the hands of my abuser
and replace the cradle of my transient father.
I didn’t realize, you would just end up leaving more finger-prints.
I am a walking crime scene.
Surviving rape
is like being stabbed 260 times and still living,
being drenched in gasoline and watching a pyro consider you not worth the flame.
I still have his face burned in my memories,
his beady black eyes and a blood-coated bed,
still have his handprints searing my skin.
I’ve been branded….
And I thought if I belonged to you,
I wouldn’t have to wear his stains,
and this crime scene
spotted across my skin like black light,
like a neon sign.
and people who look at me with eyes that burn like interrogation lights.
And I wish I didn’t fit the stereotype so well.
Wish they couldn’t know exactly how I walk, talk and act
just by knowing two facts about my past.
Wish they couldn’t guess which men
I were attracted to by getting a brief description of my father.
Every love poem I’ve ever written has remnants of him in it’s crevices.
Curved along the sides of pages,
whispered in the spaces between words.
I see his face so often in absence,
like an echo,
like a haunting,
like unhealed stab wounds,
like the smell of gasoline,
like remembering the face of someone who didn’t think you worthy of murder,
Who would torture you for the rest of your life without looking over their shoulder as they left you.
Who would be so clever as to abuse you between your legs where no one can see the scars,
stab you 260 times where it won’t kill you,
just render you worthless.
I had no idea this whole time I had been looking for my self worth in other people.
In you.
From a distance,
I could have sworn you had wings,
the way the light bounced off your mahogany skin like a halo
I didn’t realize I was looking at my own reflection,
I am the savior I’d been looking for.
Have you ever been looking for a pair of sunglasses that were on your head,
or told the person on your phone that you’d misplaced your phone.
What I’d been looking for,
I had all along.
I was just looking in the wrong direction.
everything becomes the exactly same color as what your looking for,
shapes morph into that item
until your looking in the same place fifteen different times
because you know you checked there,
but you don't trust yourself.
Well
unknowingly,
I was looking for my father
when I stumbled across you.
I thought you were an angel,
light bounced off your mahogany skin like a halo.
I thought you had the healing powers I’d been looking for,
Cause I’d been looking for the magical potions that could make to feel whole.
I thought if you held me,
you could erase the hands of my abuser
and replace the cradle of my transient father.
I didn’t realize, you would just end up leaving more finger-prints.
I am a walking crime scene.
Surviving rape
is like being stabbed 260 times and still living,
being drenched in gasoline and watching a pyro consider you not worth the flame.
I still have his face burned in my memories,
his beady black eyes and a blood-coated bed,
still have his handprints searing my skin.
I’ve been branded….
And I thought if I belonged to you,
I wouldn’t have to wear his stains,
and this crime scene
spotted across my skin like black light,
like a neon sign.
and people who look at me with eyes that burn like interrogation lights.
And I wish I didn’t fit the stereotype so well.
Wish they couldn’t know exactly how I walk, talk and act
just by knowing two facts about my past.
Wish they couldn’t guess which men
I were attracted to by getting a brief description of my father.
Every love poem I’ve ever written has remnants of him in it’s crevices.
Curved along the sides of pages,
whispered in the spaces between words.
I see his face so often in absence,
like an echo,
like a haunting,
like unhealed stab wounds,
like the smell of gasoline,
like remembering the face of someone who didn’t think you worthy of murder,
Who would torture you for the rest of your life without looking over their shoulder as they left you.
Who would be so clever as to abuse you between your legs where no one can see the scars,
stab you 260 times where it won’t kill you,
just render you worthless.
I had no idea this whole time I had been looking for my self worth in other people.
In you.
From a distance,
I could have sworn you had wings,
the way the light bounced off your mahogany skin like a halo
I didn’t realize I was looking at my own reflection,
I am the savior I’d been looking for.
Have you ever been looking for a pair of sunglasses that were on your head,
or told the person on your phone that you’d misplaced your phone.
What I’d been looking for,
I had all along.
I was just looking in the wrong direction.
216/365 [14/30]
Every poem I've ever written has remnants of you in it's crevices,
Curved along the sides of pages,
whispered in the spaces between words,
I see your face so much in absence,
So write in large fonts to fill up pages but that just make the nothingness in letters larger,
makes it echo,
like a haunting,
like unhealed stab wounds,
like the smell of gasoline,
like remember the face of someone who didn't think you worthy of murdering.
Who would torture you for the rest of your life without looking over their shoulder as they left you.
Curved along the sides of pages,
whispered in the spaces between words,
I see your face so much in absence,
So write in large fonts to fill up pages but that just make the nothingness in letters larger,
makes it echo,
like a haunting,
like unhealed stab wounds,
like the smell of gasoline,
like remember the face of someone who didn't think you worthy of murdering.
Who would torture you for the rest of your life without looking over their shoulder as they left you.
215/365 [13/30]
The great thing about physically abusing a woman in-between her legs
is no one can see the scar.
is no one can see the scar.
214/365 [12/30]
We don't talk about it.
We write,
recite,
then dodge.
I need to talk about it.
But I'm not blaming you.
Cause I can't muster up the courage either.
I boast about vulnerability
then step off the stage.
Dodge eyes
And hug my way out of venues so I can point to faces on YouTube videos
and claim to know people I haven't shared more than two conversations with
but shared a room with over fifteen times.
We write,
recite,
then dodge.
I need to talk about it.
But I'm not blaming you.
Cause I can't muster up the courage either.
I boast about vulnerability
then step off the stage.
Dodge eyes
And hug my way out of venues so I can point to faces on YouTube videos
and claim to know people I haven't shared more than two conversations with
but shared a room with over fifteen times.
213/365 [10/30]
Why do we characterize our relationships in the bad things that they are not,
instead of the bad things they are.
He's never beaten me
or bruised my skin.
But I can't find my self-esteem
In the bottom of the silence in his voice,
after I've whispered that I love him like a desperate plea.
I can only feel the cracks his sideway glances have started..
But he hasn't cheated on me.
He hasn't left me.
But he doesn't hold my hand anymore.
Only whispers "I love you" to my naked breasts,
only calls me beautiful when my body is pressed against his.
He runs to me,
but only when I'm laying down.
Compliments my outfit when it warrants easy access.
instead of the bad things they are.
He's never beaten me
or bruised my skin.
But I can't find my self-esteem
In the bottom of the silence in his voice,
after I've whispered that I love him like a desperate plea.
I can only feel the cracks his sideway glances have started..
But he hasn't cheated on me.
He hasn't left me.
But he doesn't hold my hand anymore.
Only whispers "I love you" to my naked breasts,
only calls me beautiful when my body is pressed against his.
He runs to me,
but only when I'm laying down.
Compliments my outfit when it warrants easy access.
212/365 [9/30]
You were probably right,
You're not my angel,
you're not my savior.
But from a distance,
I could've sworn you had wings.
Light bounced off your mahogany skin like a halo.
I thought you had healing powers.
I wanted to pat you down to find the potions I needed to feel whole.
I thought I caught a glimpse of my future in your eyes.
Thought one hug could remove the hand-prints of my abuser
and replace the hands of my transient father.
I thought they could be erased if I spent more time around you
It could erase them.
I didn't realize you would just leave more finger prints on my body,
I am a walking crime scene.
Surviving rape is like being stabbed in the chest 37 times and still living,
being drenched in gasoline
and watching a pyro consider you not worth the flame.
I still have his face searing in my memory,
his beady black eyes and a blood coated bed,
still have his hand-print incinerating my body.
I've been branded.
I thought if I belonged to you,
I wouldn't have to wear his stains.
and this crime scene around my neck like a neon sign.
And I wish I didn't fit the stereotype so well
I wish you couldn't know how I walk,
talk,
and act
just by knowing two facts about my past.
I wish you couldn't guess which men I were attracted to
by just getting a brief description of my father.
You're not my angel,
you're not my savior.
But from a distance,
I could've sworn you had wings.
Light bounced off your mahogany skin like a halo.
I thought you had healing powers.
I wanted to pat you down to find the potions I needed to feel whole.
I thought I caught a glimpse of my future in your eyes.
Thought one hug could remove the hand-prints of my abuser
and replace the hands of my transient father.
I thought they could be erased if I spent more time around you
It could erase them.
I didn't realize you would just leave more finger prints on my body,
I am a walking crime scene.
Surviving rape is like being stabbed in the chest 37 times and still living,
being drenched in gasoline
and watching a pyro consider you not worth the flame.
I still have his face searing in my memory,
his beady black eyes and a blood coated bed,
still have his hand-print incinerating my body.
I've been branded.
I thought if I belonged to you,
I wouldn't have to wear his stains.
and this crime scene around my neck like a neon sign.
And I wish I didn't fit the stereotype so well
I wish you couldn't know how I walk,
talk,
and act
just by knowing two facts about my past.
I wish you couldn't guess which men I were attracted to
by just getting a brief description of my father.
Friday, April 1, 2011
211/365 [8/30]
To the best of my knowledge,
I will always be honest with you.
{I don't always know the truth}
I will always be honest with you.
{I don't always know the truth}
209/365 [6/30]
I miss your simple sentences.
The way you can undo 10 months worth of sin
in a line.
When I miss even the negative parts of you,
it is really hard to want to stay away from you.
So in the back of my mind
where no one can see me.
I twiddle my thumbs waiting for the moment I will run back to you.
I hate this feeling of inevitability.
The way you can undo 10 months worth of sin
in a line.
When I miss even the negative parts of you,
it is really hard to want to stay away from you.
So in the back of my mind
where no one can see me.
I twiddle my thumbs waiting for the moment I will run back to you.
I hate this feeling of inevitability.
208/365 [5/30]
You
are ego
where ego should not exist.
Spit up
squish it around
call it poetry.
Snap at your own lines
then moan as if we weren't already aware of your masturbatory tendencies.(inclinations)
are ego
where ego should not exist.
Spit up
squish it around
call it poetry.
Snap at your own lines
then moan as if we weren't already aware of your masturbatory tendencies.(inclinations)
207/365 Letters 74 [3/30]
Dear Dominique,
He doesn’t want you.
That is not your fault.
Stop thinking that it is or else you are going to continue you believing it is something you can change.
Consider chasing so that this time you can get it right,
this time you can get him to stick around.
If you can get one stick around,
it’s like you’re father never left.
So you do things to make it better,
say things,
close your mouth more,
try to be softer,
prettier,
less volatile,
less awake.
But even when sleeping,
you can feel him moving away from you in his dreams.
So what did you want to do love?
Crack his head open?
You can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that.
And if he wants to leave,
let him leave….
He likes getting high more than he could ever love you.
And that’s a rap.
He doesn’t want you.
That is not your fault.
Stop thinking that it is or else you are going to continue you believing it is something you can change.
Consider chasing so that this time you can get it right,
this time you can get him to stick around.
If you can get one stick around,
it’s like you’re father never left.
So you do things to make it better,
say things,
close your mouth more,
try to be softer,
prettier,
less volatile,
less awake.
But even when sleeping,
you can feel him moving away from you in his dreams.
So what did you want to do love?
Crack his head open?
You can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that.
And if he wants to leave,
let him leave….
He likes getting high more than he could ever love you.
And that’s a rap.
206/365 Letters 73 [2/30]
Dear moment,
I see you April Fool.
The moment when I realized that he has once again
and will always
chosen weed over me.
Funny.
[How quickly we forget]
I see you April Fool.
The moment when I realized that he has once again
and will always
chosen weed over me.
Funny.
[How quickly we forget]
205/365 Letters 72 [1/30]
Dear Kyle,
Been awhile since I wrote you a letter and I didn’t even realize that until I got here. I was enjoying that time without this yearning for you. Honestly, I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of tonight. I should have been honest with myself. Feelings like the ones I had for you DO NOT go away. They may be pushed aside, forgotten about, maybe even fade, but disappear; not a chance.
I should have had my guard up instead of thinking I was invincible. But the past couple of days of me bouncing around you like you don’t matter had me thinking I could do it no matter the circumstances. In that regard, tonight was a bit of a wake up call. Avatar started. Doing that poem with you, calling on whatever emotions I use to perform that piece the way I do, put me back where I was almost a year ago. It was hard to shake. Than being next to you, saying that line, “You touched my life like a hallelujah on the breeze. The hallelujah fades, but the breeze is all the more holy.” Which is a line I actually wrote about you a long time ago. Being with you again in Fort Collins and THEN…THEN listening Trevor Hall did it for me. I was nostalgic, and I missed you, and I wanted to be held by you, and loved by you and I just all together remembered what it was like to be apart of your life.
I’m sorry. It’s not fair of me to bring this up. I know, this isn’t the way to earn your trust, which is still one of my goals mind you, but tonight caught me off guard. I don’t know if you fully planned dropping me off first because you were afraid of what would happen but I’m really glad you did. But while we’re being honest, don’t pretend you didn’t feel it too. Don’t pretend you didn’t want to be near me as much as I wanted to be near you. Either way, I take responsibility for my part and it won’t happen again. You don’t have to believe that now. But just wait and see. For both of our sakes, it won’t happen again.
Love,
Augustine
Been awhile since I wrote you a letter and I didn’t even realize that until I got here. I was enjoying that time without this yearning for you. Honestly, I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of tonight. I should have been honest with myself. Feelings like the ones I had for you DO NOT go away. They may be pushed aside, forgotten about, maybe even fade, but disappear; not a chance.
I should have had my guard up instead of thinking I was invincible. But the past couple of days of me bouncing around you like you don’t matter had me thinking I could do it no matter the circumstances. In that regard, tonight was a bit of a wake up call. Avatar started. Doing that poem with you, calling on whatever emotions I use to perform that piece the way I do, put me back where I was almost a year ago. It was hard to shake. Than being next to you, saying that line, “You touched my life like a hallelujah on the breeze. The hallelujah fades, but the breeze is all the more holy.” Which is a line I actually wrote about you a long time ago. Being with you again in Fort Collins and THEN…THEN listening Trevor Hall did it for me. I was nostalgic, and I missed you, and I wanted to be held by you, and loved by you and I just all together remembered what it was like to be apart of your life.
I’m sorry. It’s not fair of me to bring this up. I know, this isn’t the way to earn your trust, which is still one of my goals mind you, but tonight caught me off guard. I don’t know if you fully planned dropping me off first because you were afraid of what would happen but I’m really glad you did. But while we’re being honest, don’t pretend you didn’t feel it too. Don’t pretend you didn’t want to be near me as much as I wanted to be near you. Either way, I take responsibility for my part and it won’t happen again. You don’t have to believe that now. But just wait and see. For both of our sakes, it won’t happen again.
Love,
Augustine
Saturday, March 26, 2011
204/365 Haha Free-write
What's the worst thing that can happen?
So this is a bit nerve-wracking and exhilarating.
I'm a [lil] excited.
Lalalalalala haha I like writing.
What is the worst thing that can happen.
I know the worst thing that can happen to Alice,
She can HOP OFF MY DICK!
Oh goodness.
I don't know how I can ease them into poetry 10 minutes is a long time haha.
Good it will get them warmed up.
As life, as in poetry, the people meant to be will be.
I don't know,
this is kind of weird.
But I rocked it.
The speech and the poem.
I also completely rocked...
I don't know the end of that sentence.
I could totally end time early
and no one would know.
Eh, it's two minutes away.
I remember the end of that sentence!
I totally rocked convincing them I knew what I was doing.
It hasn't been two minutes yet?
THE HECK!
So this is a bit nerve-wracking and exhilarating.
I'm a [lil] excited.
Lalalalalala haha I like writing.
What is the worst thing that can happen.
I know the worst thing that can happen to Alice,
She can HOP OFF MY DICK!
Oh goodness.
I don't know how I can ease them into poetry 10 minutes is a long time haha.
Good it will get them warmed up.
As life, as in poetry, the people meant to be will be.
I don't know,
this is kind of weird.
But I rocked it.
The speech and the poem.
I also completely rocked...
I don't know the end of that sentence.
I could totally end time early
and no one would know.
Eh, it's two minutes away.
I remember the end of that sentence!
I totally rocked convincing them I knew what I was doing.
It hasn't been two minutes yet?
THE HECK!
203/365 Unfinished free-write
They tell us that we deserve it.
It's the way we switch our hips,
wear to tight clothes,
wear make-up or anything that makes us feel beautiful.
We wear beauty like as a curse
Sexuality as a bad warning sign.
Just because we ride the
beat somehow makes you think we wanna ride you dick.
There is no respect for female humans anymore.
Females who wear sexuality like pearls with sophistication
and pencil skirt.
It's called class,
not closet freak.
It's the way we switch our hips,
wear to tight clothes,
wear make-up or anything that makes us feel beautiful.
We wear beauty like as a curse
Sexuality as a bad warning sign.
Just because we ride the
beat somehow makes you think we wanna ride you dick.
There is no respect for female humans anymore.
Females who wear sexuality like pearls with sophistication
and pencil skirt.
It's called class,
not closet freak.
Friday, March 25, 2011
202/365
You were never the reason I drew hearts,
so what made you think you'd be the reason I stopped.
You weren't what I was looking for,
you're not my dream man.
You were a boy playing dress-up in his dad's underwear,
you may have wore the pants but they were clearly too big for you.
You could not make me stop loving.
You're a prop.
Consider that a Theatre Major's very kind way of calling you a tool
so what made you think you'd be the reason I stopped.
You weren't what I was looking for,
you're not my dream man.
You were a boy playing dress-up in his dad's underwear,
you may have wore the pants but they were clearly too big for you.
You could not make me stop loving.
You're a prop.
Consider that a Theatre Major's very kind way of calling you a tool
Thursday, March 24, 2011
201/365 Sad Saga 8*/
It's not atypical to look back.
Lot's wife,
Pharaoh's slaves
and I imagine if Sisyphus were to ever be relieved of his duties,
he would resort to skipping stones up waterfalls with nothing better to do.
We tend to become nostalgic about the things we most resented.
So now, I fling my body over meaningless relationships
hoping I can stay above water long enough to forget the sinking feeling you left me with.
But you made me miserable long before you left.
How could I miss that?
What cause a victim to miss being abused?
*She doesn't solve her problem,
just spends enough time with them to become comfortable.
Lot's wife,
Pharaoh's slaves
and I imagine if Sisyphus were to ever be relieved of his duties,
he would resort to skipping stones up waterfalls with nothing better to do.
We tend to become nostalgic about the things we most resented.
So now, I fling my body over meaningless relationships
hoping I can stay above water long enough to forget the sinking feeling you left me with.
But you made me miserable long before you left.
How could I miss that?
What cause a victim to miss being abused?
*She doesn't solve her problem,
just spends enough time with them to become comfortable.
200/365 The beginning
Bad things happen when hot meets cold:
Hurricanes,
Frostbite,
foggy glasses...
Hurricanes,
Frostbite,
foggy glasses...
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
199/365 March 23, 2011
Dear Shlesa,
Ha ha ha ha. I'm sorry, but THAT was funny. Do you really think you're buff, you think you're in control?
Babe, you been nothing but my "roommate" for months now. And do you realize how pathetic you sound right now? You flipped out because I deleted you off Facebook? As if that were the only media of communication.
I deleted you off Facebook because out of the estimated 6 months we've been friends on Facebook, you've interacted with me once. That was to comment on one of my pictures "Forever Alone. lol". Now I realize that to you and your friends in room 310, that's hilarious. To me, it's not so catchy. That was the ONE thing you have ever said to me on Facebook and you commented it like I would not even see it. That offended me, thus I had every right to delete and block someone with whom I want no interaction with. I would have confronted you about it and worked it out if I saw the value of doing so. We have no friendship in person so why would I need to keep you as a friend on Facebook. Plus, it's Facebook! Get off. I deleted you long before our little talk.
And while we're talking about that chat, when you said I could talk to you about anything, did you notice that I said nothing about wanting to talk to you? When it came to your little reconciliation talk with Caitie and Danielle, noticed how I completely left the room. As if those were not blatant hints that I care nothing about having a friendship with you, I told you during the conversation that if there was ever a reason I did not want to talk to you, it had nothing to do with Jonathan. No, you were too busy worrying that I was tampering with your relationship with your fiancé to worry at all about our relationship. When I said I felt closer in friendship to someone who lives two hours from here, whom I've met one time, that didn't tip you off that maybe our relationship was a bit faulty?
That is the most hilarious part of this entire situation. I sleep literally two feet above your head and it took FACEBOOK to tell you we MIGHT have a problem? Really? I guess that shows how much we actually talk to each other, huh? I am nothing but a PC charger to you so I don't know why would ever address this issue like we have a friendship to defend in the first place. We are now and have, for a very long time, been nothing but roommates. And I am perfectly alright with that.
Ha ha ha ha. I'm sorry, but THAT was funny. Do you really think you're buff, you think you're in control?
Babe, you been nothing but my "roommate" for months now. And do you realize how pathetic you sound right now? You flipped out because I deleted you off Facebook? As if that were the only media of communication.
I deleted you off Facebook because out of the estimated 6 months we've been friends on Facebook, you've interacted with me once. That was to comment on one of my pictures "Forever Alone. lol". Now I realize that to you and your friends in room 310, that's hilarious. To me, it's not so catchy. That was the ONE thing you have ever said to me on Facebook and you commented it like I would not even see it. That offended me, thus I had every right to delete and block someone with whom I want no interaction with. I would have confronted you about it and worked it out if I saw the value of doing so. We have no friendship in person so why would I need to keep you as a friend on Facebook. Plus, it's Facebook! Get off. I deleted you long before our little talk.
And while we're talking about that chat, when you said I could talk to you about anything, did you notice that I said nothing about wanting to talk to you? When it came to your little reconciliation talk with Caitie and Danielle, noticed how I completely left the room. As if those were not blatant hints that I care nothing about having a friendship with you, I told you during the conversation that if there was ever a reason I did not want to talk to you, it had nothing to do with Jonathan. No, you were too busy worrying that I was tampering with your relationship with your fiancé to worry at all about our relationship. When I said I felt closer in friendship to someone who lives two hours from here, whom I've met one time, that didn't tip you off that maybe our relationship was a bit faulty?
That is the most hilarious part of this entire situation. I sleep literally two feet above your head and it took FACEBOOK to tell you we MIGHT have a problem? Really? I guess that shows how much we actually talk to each other, huh? I am nothing but a PC charger to you so I don't know why would ever address this issue like we have a friendship to defend in the first place. We are now and have, for a very long time, been nothing but roommates. And I am perfectly alright with that.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
198/365 Free-write #5 (March 21, 2011)
So,
in order for our work to be successful,
our teachings of self-degradation
most start from birth.
Train a child in the way in should go
so that when it is older,
it will not depart form it.
Broken home=Broken children
Therefore if you are a man working to ensure gender inequality
and keep the men in higher status,
your only job is to leave your woman and children.
This simple act will relieve you of your responsibility,
and reinforce the idea the woman should do things fro you.
If you leave a son,
you will leave a child who will immediately feel defenseless and weak.
To hide this face from the world,
he will need to take steps to make himself appear dominant
and will soon follow you in you woman raping footsteps.
When you leave the mother of your children,
you will rape her of her strength and self-worth
If you leave a daughter,
you will have done the most work towards helping this cause because you have now made perfect prey for the next amateur rapist.
Do not think of this girl as your own flesh and blood,
for then you may feel some odd desire to protect her.
After all, every girl is someone's daughter.
No, no, we musn't think like this.
Instead, think of her as just another causality.
This is war.
and men do not cry over bodies in war.
197/365 Free-write #4 (March 21, 2011)
If you need a more concrete example of what you are attempting to accomplish,
feel free to reference any well known genocide or holocaust in the history of the world.
Of course,
we are not attempting to kill women on a mass scale.
after all,
who would bear our children or cook our meal?
However,
we are looking to keep them subservient to our rule
The lower they view themselves,
the easier it is to separate them from their power and self-worth.
This means an easier conquest.
Now, as a guide,
reference any successful genocide movement.
Par example, In Rwanda,
Hutus were referred to around the country as cockroaches
to prove they were less than Tutsis.
This made it easier to justify extermination.
In Nazi Germany,
Hitler made sure to spread propaganda against Jewish people before
recruiting thousands of German soldiers to exterminate them.
Thus, to simplify the conquest
call them female dogs,
this will ensure they feel less than men.
If this name becomes too redundant,
you may also substitute,
slut, ho or mama.
The first two will make them feel the need to fulfill your every sexual desire,
while the latter will lead them to cook you breakfast after
and perhaps let you suck their breasts
I mean tatas.
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