Sunday, September 28, 2008


I walk- you watch me, not a word exchanged.
You breathe- I catch you, and the walls are screaming change.
Your weakness- my flesh cries, and our ties are rearranged.

The comfort of consistency is stronger than any love story could bellow.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Gorgeous Calm

The assuring hum of the refrigerator, the remote at my side like a taser, the fluid depth of the wood floors staring back at me, independent films, cup of coffee, whimsical kitchen disarray...

Yes folks, it's Sunday afternoon alone at the house.

I love these days. I sink deep into my corner of the L-shaped couch and my dreams; multiple internet tabs awaiting exploration.

I don't want a phone call, a knock on the door, or an interruption of this steady flow of procrastination.

I think about all the things I should do like go for a run, clean up the office, correct papers, etc. Instead I sit and create without an accomplishment to speak of. I both hate and love these days. I know I have time yet I waste it. I almost feel afraid of accomplishment...there are all these things waiting and yet I don't face them.
The fact is, I find great comfort in these looming there is always someone waiting for me when I get home. I don't know how to handle continuous mediocrity, I can only find satisfaction in low lows and drastic makeovers so everyone, including myself will be amazed at how much I was able to change the situation.
I envy people who can keep a steady flow of order and upkeep in their lives. The kinds of people who have a task, don't fear it, and face it head on. The kinds of people who get things DONE. I think I could be one of those people, but instead I hide behind a curtain of unobtainable perfection.

It looms and the fear becomes greater than the task at hand.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Haterade Masks Fear?

Truth time. Since 2004 I have gained 20 lbs and I finally made a commitment this week to lose it. For a few years, I have hidden behind stress, overcommitment, and a million other excuses why I didn't stay in shape. However, little by little I started worrying. I worried I would lose too much weight, sell out to the white boys who wouldn't give me the time of day because I was too thick, or worse- I wouldn't snap necks when I walked by. I never wanted to be one of those proportionate, non-descript women who although pretty, didn't have any outstanding physical attributes.
I honestly have never been able to figure out why men (white, brown, and black alike- don't front, you all know you look) dig women shaped like this:

Or this:

Or the WORST- looked like this from behind:

When I was growing up, these women were the antithesis to everything I was: curvy, rhythmic, strong, thick and ethnic.

Not fat, thick.

I know I have never really been "too skinny", but in my world, by what my standards of beauty determine, I am scared that I will lose my inertia...that my soul will escape through the melting process of my hips and thighs and I will cease to enjoy life. Would I lose my faithful fan base of Brothas and Latinos who although just as likely to take Jaime Pressly to bed, wouldn't have her on their arm in public....?

I love the love, but I know I'm not good where I'm at.

As I lose the outer weight, I will continue to gauge my inner weight, and if I start feeling the scale tipping too far to the Scary Side, I will stop. I may never be ideal by the world's standards, but the older I get, the less important those standards are. I want to look good in a swimsuit, but I want to HAVE a hip:waist ratio....I've never NOT had one, even at my thinnest, but after so many years of safety behind my thickness label, I'm scared. I feel like I will be losing a part of myself and what's left will be nothing more than acceptable to white America.

My identity will no longer be "thick girl", but "fit" and sometimes that can be really boring because there are no longer any extremities to gawk at.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008


Gotta clean out my life.

Gotta make a new start.

Gotta do the right thing.

Can't keep running to wrong and away from right.

Gotta face my fears.

It won't be easy, but it's what's best in God's eyes.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Enigmatic Conscience

Here's my question. When you have hit rock bottom in your life before and come out of it alive why do you fall back down as soon as things get better?

How strong do you have to be to withstand the emptiness, the bone-chilling, soul-grating thunder?

I need to know. I need to know how to be able to stand up against the storm, to fill the void when cyclonic winds suck the life right out of me.

I want warmth to lift me out of the gravitational melt my eyes into a honeycomb and make me see only you.

Sweet, dulce amorcito...there was a time you danced your way into my heart.

But, somehow over time you lost your rhythm and now you just stomp.