critical condition...

A friend and I have this joke about my body. He calls it critical condition. People have always made jokes about my body. My bestie used to say I should go back to the hospital and trade it in for a new one...and we all laugh.

It's been a constant reminder that I don't do enough for myself. That I don't "love myself like I should." So I put up a few post-its on my dresser here in NP to try and remind myself that I am the only one walking around inside my body. Why do I exert so much of its energy for other people and not for myself?

I mean, my back is breaking, my knee is out, my lungs cry when they breathe, my once hard-headed scalp is now sore and tender, my feet have died a million times over, I don't rest easy, yet if anyone calls I wake up and head to their saving, I shovel snow for reasons that aren't mine, I pollute myself with drugs and alcohol. And I'm not complaining, because I LIKE who I am... the issue never has been whether or not I love myself, the issue is now me trying to prove to everyone that I do actually love myself.

And believe me I do. I have the capacity to be so cocky. I mean my stank is so potent, I keep tryna tell yall lol smiley face. I'm just a really humble person. My life has made me that way. If you knew how unpretty it is then you would understand why I don't walk around boasting about my self love. It's IN me. And that is what I keep only FOR me. I love who I am in all of my flaws, mistakes, triumphs and successions. One of my mottos is 'be prepared for the consequences of your actions' and I believe that I uphold that motto. I enjoy my dysfunctional relationship(s) because at that point in my life it's what I want. I have always done what I want. Never what people tell me to do. And doing for others is what I want and enjoy to do.

I just don't get why people still misunderstand me after I've been so open, honest and forthcoming about who I am. Okay so I may give 100% of myself and get slapped in the face. That's on them my loves, it ain't on me. And yes, I love, admire, and respect all things spiritual and intangible. I know that in order to be sane we must respect our emotions so I allow my mental the right to experience those emotions whether positive or negative and then...I get over it. If you see me and think I'm unhappy, weigh our interactions. How many times are we laughing together and enjoying life versus me venting to you about any issue or problem I'm having? I'll wait...

So you see? I'm glad people care. At least that's how I'll interpret it. But understand and trust that when I say I love myself, I actually do. And when I say if you ever need me call me, then please do. And when I claim that I will give you the shirt off my back if I didn't have titties believe that I will.

I mean come on, people get judged so badly for being selfish, now people are getting judged for being self-less? Stop it.

and the best four years of my life hands down goes to...

"a wise person once said "i live a life of solitude, adaptable only to changes i deem worthy of my acceptance...worthiness is in the eye of the beholder"

HIGH SCHOOL

Thanks to the media, I am periodically updated on the life of a very good high school friend of mine and I update him with my new episodes as well. I was telling him of some of the troubles I've been experiencing and he quoted me advice from my very own mouth, my very own blog if I believe (I am not going to go through the archives, I'm just not lol). That's where my stank went. I've forgotten my own declarations of who I am. I do live a life of solitude. And yes, it is adaptable only to changes I deem worthy of my acceptance. Damn...I tell you when you need some reassurance or a slap in the face, a good, true friend comes in handy. Even though I am approaching my last year of college and have made some memories here on the SUNY New Paltz campus, hands down, the BEST four years of my life will always be...high school.

it isn't that my pen won't speak
she is just afraid of her words
her breath becoming misty in the wind
she likes it warm inside
enclosed behind her curtain lips
never having to worry about coats
scarves
gloves
but you,
you bring a chill
a shiver that wraps around bones
makes her wanna holla
and if she ever took the cap off
she'd scare you with her sermons
so much so you'd wish church could never be found in your heart
but its there...
at the very forefront of your altar
where she will find
her voice

On another note, this came out because I wanted to say something to her. She wants me to write for her but doesn't understand how I can bust a semi-good (in my opinion) poem out for a program, but I can't sit myself down to write for her. It isn't that I don't want to, oh gosh, I really really want to, I just don't know what to write anymore or how to write it. Give me time, just...give me time...

bye, bye, birdee...

I know people change but I hate we've changed.
And its killing me trying to figure out where we are.
Cause it aint the same, girl I'll take the blame.
And I'm willing to take this chance that you feel we've traveled too far.
Lord knows I wanna keep you, life without you I just can't see it.
But sometimes you gotta let love be what it's gonna be.
(Ooh oh)

I'ma let you fly and pray you come back to me cause I do believe.
If I let you fly then you fly back, then it was meant to be.
So fly, fly, fly, fly.

Yes people, I needed to play a song when I let twitter go, again lol. I don't necessarily like this song. I was only put on to it after it played on my ipod and the ex-roomie fell in love with it, but I love music therapy, and yes, it does hold true for many situations. After last blog, I called my angels in human form on speed dial and they threw some sense my way. Made me realize that I'd been constantly changing my personality and adapting it to fit others around me. Now, what happens when you aren't true to yourself? DRAMA!! So I let Twitter fly away in hopes that once I gain myself back, if it was meant to be, I'll surface the skies again.

I have traveled too far. Too far with myself to try and change her, and fit her into ideas of who she should be. I go up and down with my confidence and security so I've been trying to push myself to go to the gym, but after my program yesterday, I think I look damn good. And many of the attendees did as well. I think instead of giving myself limitations, boundaries, and rules, I'm going to start supporting myself more. Giving myself encouragement NOT to lose weight but to GET fit...

"ayo Ty, you look really good today. Good choice getting that water instead of Tropicana Lemonade."

"oww, I see you over there with the spinach and broccoli, geeeet it!!"

Because I am a healthy poor eater. I like vegetables, and water, exercising, and trying vegan/vegetarianism. I'm into fasting and body cleansing, being smart about my health and trying the baked goods.....what I'm not into is feeling bad about my eating habits, or feeling bad about my weight. I have a beautiful relationship with food. It loves me and I definitely love it!!

Diet?
Take that, take that!

Of course there are deeper subliminal reasons for my leaving twitter. It has caused me to feel abundantly guilty, stalkerish, insecure, and stressed. Why? It's just entertainment. But I know who I am (aren't yall tired of me saying that?) and I know that with my emotional and passionate ass, I can't have access to everyone's daily updates of their mundane lives. I feed into it, become it, adopt it as my own, and try with all my might to "fix" it. There's a saying: "if it ain't broke, don't break it". I realize that other people's lives might be just fine for them. I need not come in and try to be mama and save the day. Things may not need fixing...sigh...an issue I am trying so hard to work on. I swear.

But yes, I am still afraid of my shadow, of the echoing thoughts inside a calm mind, of the phone call to my cell from the angels...and yes I still run. It is second nature. I realized earlier today that if I'm unable to run I start tweaking. Like on some real feeling claustrophobic I need to get the hell out of here type of tweaking. I always give in to myself. Always allow myself to run...because, haven't we gone over this before? If no authority can tame me, why would I give myself boundaries? Why would I tell myself no?

So, I cut off my wings. In an effort to anchor myself into reality, I back away from an intangible idea of webspace...and it's working, for as long as I tell myself it is.

sometimes...you just gotta swing...

Remember in elementary school when the science fair came around and everyone wanted to make the tornado in the bottle because that was the easiest project? Or when you first found out that after you shook a bottle or can of soda and opened it, it exploded? Ever like to throw soy sauce, duck sauce, or ketchup packets on the ground and then stomp them to see condiments go flying? That was me again, yesterday.

I've grown up rough, okay, a blessing and a curse. Sometimes, I still resort to the fact that some people just don't learn until you pop them in the mouth one good time. Some energy just never becomes co-operative with yours until you let it explode and calm down, but I never thought my emotions...and hers...would've exploded like that.

Swing batter, batter, swing...

I've stated it before, and I'll forever state it because I am proud of the way my mother raised me: I am a good girl. I've never been in a real fight. Sure in junior high school and high school I thought I was a bad ass and wanted to fight everybody all day everyday, but my angels on speed dial know the human they were charged with. It never happened. So, do I know I can fight? No. But will I? Hell mother-effing yes. To the death. With no regrets.

I know me. I know who I was as an angry child which is why I've strived so hard the past four years to become docile and peaceful. I know that I have a hot temper and fast tongue. I know that when I let myself give into my emotions strange and unpleasant things can happen. I don't ever want to see her face and envision rage. I don't ever want to lift my hand to her with the intention of causing serious bodily harm...but yesterday, shit yesterday we just had to swing.

We are grown. In our twenties. In college. What do we look like brawling? Two women who both have tremendous issues that we keep ignoring. Two women who have no outlet (at least none that we recognize) for our anger, sadness, and pain. Two women who love each other so much that we believe if ' beat the shit out of you this one time to make you understand, you will.'

My body still hurts. Adrenaline overpowered my will and I felt absolutely nothing yesterday. Nothing but my fist connecting to her head and my hand clamped dangerously around her throat. But today, my neck throbs, my side aches, my heart is crying.

I'm sorry.

I know that it was difficult for those present to watch us tear at each other like that. A friend of mine had a nervous breakdown after the episode. She had to remove herself from our space, walk back to her own, and cry.

I'm sorry.

I can't be the bearer of other's burdens anymore. I can't allow someone to erase my four years of growth, maturity, and effort. This incident has placed us in such an awkward and confusing state...I mean, I still love her. Of course I do...

Solitude.

I am afraid to face my demons. I am afraid to turn my cell phone off, deactivate my facebook, even cancel my twitter. I've stopped updating but the application is still there on my home screen. I am afraid to close my eyes, recline, and listen to what my angels have to say. After ignoring them for twenty years, I know it be a long, deep, conversation. I am not afraid to say that I am afraid.

I am my mother's child. Everything she is in all of her strengths, flaws, and misguided actions, I emulate. In fearing becoming her, I have (a-duh) become her. Damn...

I gotta get that old stank back...

I remember how I used to smell. It was a strong scent, whipping everyone's heads. I used to step into a room and set the stage on fire, (I admire weezy) but my aroma has become docile. It has sunk into my skin so deeply that it can't permeate the surface anymore and my nostrils are left wondering if their hairs were ever tickled by my succulent wind...

I've been feeling like I've lost all of me for quite some time now, but what I've really lost was my confidence. I loved being 'cocky' and 'stank'. I was my number one rider, provider, and supplier. Recently, I've become too compliant with myself and too reliant on others' shoulders. I've always complained that I never had someone like me for me, but, I do....me.

realization one

Main Entry:	polyamorous
Part of Speech:	adj
Definition:	pertaining to participation in multiple and simultaneous loving or sexual relationships

That's how dictionary.com defines who I believe I am. I can't handle the internet. I can't handle dictionary.com or poetry.com. I am a lover of books, words, and all things spoken or written. Being exposed to the internet has influenced me because I'm so very gullible when it comes to oral and literary influences. Awhile back I learned what the word masochist meant and identified myself as such. This past weekend I was exposed to the word polyamorous and defined myself as such.

I don't like labels, I really don't, but I do like knowledge and learning. Humans come up with these arbitrary words to try and understand and define each other, but they mean nothing. What really holds weight, is my interpretation of these concepts, these ideas....and I think I like my interpretation of polyamory (a word? well, i got my poetic license.)

realization two

I want to believe that I am in a relationship right now. I want to believe that I have security, and reciprocal love. That I have a union and no reason to feel insecure. I want to believe that. We have grasped exclusivity and each claim to be carrying it out, but, we are hidden. I am a lion. I am a wolf in lion's clothing and neither animal is unrighteously humble. We need to bare our teeth, to gloat our mane. I can't be hidden.

realization three

It brings back up this idea of polyamory that I've always had. After giving up my foolish and outside influenced goals of marriage and long term exclusivity, I accepted and even fantasized about the fact that I would be single for the rest of my life. It became okay for me. And I wouldn't be single because woe is me, or there aren't good wo/men out there, or shit just never goes right for me...no, I envisioned being single lifelong because it would be a personal choice.

I've just always felt that I had too much love to go around. I can identify (slightly) with polygamists. Not polySEXuals, but polyAMORists. And I think we all know what amor translates into: love. I can genuinely be in love with more than one person at the same time. It's different types of love of course, but my previous relationship models have shown me that I am always intimately, spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically intertwined with more than one person at a time. In my eyes it's beautiful. In my world it works.

I'd like to say that all of those fantasies were rubbish immature daydreams of a young girl who wanted everything and just couldn't narrow her heart down. I'd like to say that it seems I am going to be in a loving, committed relationship for quite some time that may lead to children and a union of some kind (okay, okay, marriage), but I can't say that.

This state that I am once again in now is soluble. It can change in an instant. I've accepted that. Once again, I've accepted that I may have not fallen in love this time. That it just may be another one of those freakishly intense, highly passionate, crazily romantic, yet drastically heartbreaking months-long interactions that my heart loves to experience. And it's okay. Because I've been doubting my heart. Doubting its strength, perseverance, and history...

"bitch, you know what I been through? I can handle a little pain."
"i know, but I been right there with you and I just don't want you to break."
"hearts were meant to break, wouldn't be no good music, none of ya good poetry if we wasn't, now go on and let me love. you...just enjoy the ride..."