anatomy of a pity party

some days it doesn't pay to be smart.
or patient.

some weeks feel like months.
some hours feel like days.

sometimes life is just...life. in all its frustrating, sloppy, all-over-the-place mess.

i don't feel like being righteous, or practical, or anything like that.

i'm just giving in...

if i'm due for another underworld trip, might as well make it a good one.

flowers

i'm starting to feel like a flower.

a flower that grew every year in the same spot for decades--maybe longer

--until they paved that spot over for a new mini mall.

but the flower's still growing.

only now, it might not have a large enough crack in the cement to break through.

or, if it does, gets trampled by mindless teenagers and families on their way in.

the wild flower is ignored, even as people remark on the planned out, precisely ordered landscaping arrangement flowers in the area.

the flower would love to re-root itself in a forest somewhere, or even the park.

but it's stuck where it is.

how does a flower like that survive?

depletion

i felt that i should list sorely missed things that i have ceased or nearly ceased to do for myself, whether the cessation was due to money, time, stress or plain forgetfulness.

hopefully this will help to hold me accountable and snap me back into compliance. within reason, anyway.

• yoga
• full self-rubdowns with shea butter
• exfoliating showers (all you need is cornmeal, honey and a little water. make a paste with the cornmeal and honey. add water until it's spreadable. use as a scrub. you're welcome)*
• self-induced g-spot 'gasms
• splurges on jewelry/music/clothing/shoes
• lingerie for no particular reason
• more to come...

*forgot to shout out my girl dopegirlfresh for the ill homemade scrub formula.

i'm just gonna ramble for a minute...

if ya don't mind...

work's slowed quite a bit, so i've had more time to fool around on the lovely invention we call myspace. and i've been coming across some really interesting stuff...movies, music, etc.

to the media, myspace is the newest pedophile playground, the "it" thing for teens...

(no one was talking about e-pedophilia 11 years ago when i was 17 & the folks had just gotten a computer slick enough to handle the internet...hanging out in aol chatrooms, getting weird messages from creepy crawlies...but i digress)

...but for those of us in the 25 & older sect (pls excuse the party promotion lingo), myspace is also a way to link up with like minded folks: i've seen all kinds of activists, black & brown practioners of traditional/indigenous spirituality, folks pushing their art, organizations & individuals whose mission it is to educate & uplift their people.

leave it to the media to trivialize what has been and continues to be a means of spreading knowledge, ideas, creativity, and information.

yeah, there's two tons of bullshit floating around, too. and folks who take it far too seriously. the whole internet's like that.

it's all about what you make it, what you choose to focus on.

i like filling my sphere with poets, artists, dreamers...folks who know what it's like to be a star-shaped peg stuffed into a square hole.

ever since i watched rent the other night, "la vie boheme" has been running around in my head. some ppl look at me & automatically label me "boho", but in my mind, i've only lived on the fringes of boho-ness. yeah, i have the bookshelves full of books & the african decoration here & there, but as an artsy person? i'm something of a fraud.

maybe it's time i start surrounding myself with people who are creative all the time, not just when the office building doors open at 5pm.

i need to stock up on movies like rent and slam...even requiem for a dream. those sorts of images feed my drive to create something. make something out of the banality i'm handed most weekdays.

i think i want to be exposed to ppl living & loving their creativity, not shoving it in a box.

i should read more poetry.


today i am grateful for knowing when not to believe the hype.