Irrational Anger

I don't know what's up with me lately. I can't relax. Since this weekend I've been thinking about the upcoming months and how this year is my last. I should make it count. No more high school...it's all over, college...making my own decisions... and thinking about it irritates me. Senioritis already.
My mother started school again to get her masters. She had me helping her with it all yesterday, and I kept thinking there is no way in hell I'm going to help you when I have my own shit to deal with this year.
All of my other plans got cancelled yesterday, and Robert cancelled on me today. I had planned to go out and spend one of the last days of my break with him, but that went to shit. It's been like that for weeks now. Can't talk to anyone, and I'm feeling cut off from the world. After Robert cancelled on me, I called around to see if someone else could come out with me. No one could for lack of money/time, except this one girl and we hung out at the book store. Got a few CD's from her, and now I'm stuck here trying to get my life back together and my mind mentally focused on the tasks at hand.

Lightening Sparks, Flame Ignited

After a long night I decided to stay at home on Wednesday and replenish my energies. What happened Tuesday night still dazed me, and by that night I was glad I stayed at home, because I needed my emotional energy for other things. My brother broke up with his long time girlfriend and he was about ready to kill himself. He threatened to do this several times in his life and I knew that it could be serious. I stayed up with him the whole night while my mother kept making insensitive remarks about how he's stupid and not a real man because he's crying over some girl. I wanted to strike her or magically make my brother deaf until she went away so he wouldn't let her comments build up on him. I remember the lightening that night and how everyone seemed agitated by the constant downpours and tornado warnings in Chicago this whole August.

Threesome

Since my theatre performance debut last Thursday, I've been hanging out with Josh and Chyna almost non stop, spending all of my time with them, and forgetting about my prior obligations. I went to work at the magazine yesterday, and I seriously thought about ditching it to hang out with the two of them. It didn't help that the magazine told me that I had to redo my whole article and have it turned in by the end of this week. It's the deadline, we need it As.Soon.As.Possible.

Josh's band had practice, but just like at work, alot of people didn't bother to show up, and it ended early. They decided to come over my house and go skateboarding. I rushed home as fast as the chicago public transit would allow...which isn't saying much...and got there just as the sun set. We stayed out in the heat for an hour fooling around while Josh showed off on the skateboard. I decided to be spontaneous... Hey lets go swimming. None of us had a swim suit and practically fully clothed, we jumped in the water not caring or thinking about what any one thought about our half nude nightly swim. We played Japan vs. U.S. in the swimming pool and declared war on each other. Heads went under in the pool that night, lost more water than if it had a large hole in it's side . The temperature started to drop and the nightly blood suckers were coming out to play. We came in the house and fixed pizza and hot chocolate, and changed in my room. Chyna and Josh decided to spend the night and after a particular jam session with the Eon Skye(my guitar) and me and Chyna's singing...far away from perfect, We got under the covers and cuddled up and talked about our past.

The lights went off.

Truth or dare. Dare. Find the g-spot. Truth or Dare. Truth. How many men were you with? Three. Chyna was the first to ask. Ever had a threesome? I looked at her in the dark, I could only make out her sillhouette faintly, but not the look on her face. Was she serious? One thing led to another. I felt a bit awkward. This was my best friend... I remember, lips, hands, everyone interwined. I can't do it. Chyna: come on. She kissed me, grabbed my hair, and then I felt Josh's lips on my own.

I tried to clear everything out of my head. I didn't know these people. I kept repeating that in my mind. Without hesitation..Chyna and Josh went all the way. The night's magic enchanted us, blinding our senses. We catered to Chyna's needs. I suppose it was always what she wanted, to experiment with both a female and male lover. She was the star, and enjoyed every minute of it. Thoughts were running through my head...this is my best friend, I only like Josh as a friend...why is this happening... Then it was over. We talked. Chyna, about her past lovers, me and Josh on how we saw each other as family. We talked as if threesomes happened everyday. I suppose it had to happen. In the end, I wasn't suprised at all, Just felt a bit guilty.

Rock Star

Today was an amazing day that went wrong. It was raining and I sat over my best friend Chyna's house downloading music while she took a shower. We had decided to go over Josh's, the rock star's house. I bought a guitar from her. It's mine now and I'm setting out to learn the chords and things. I remember when I had a guitar, it broke after a particularly violent fight with my brother. This one I'm naming Eon Sky. No gender. Just my new baby. I'm particularly fond of it now, and it's not going anywhere.
Josh's house was magical, the whole affect of it made me dizzy and his white x-mas lights hanging on the wall seemed to wink down on me, welcoming me into his domain. It was a small room with big things, and hardly no room to move in. His walls, well most of them were covered with posters from different bands, including a giant Kurt Cobain poster on one side of the wall. He has twenty gigabytes of music on his computer and that isn't even all of it. He played songs from Sonic Youth, Tiger Army, and various other bands. The moment we got there, Chyna and I took over the bed. We set around, joking and Josh played Eon Sky. Then it was Josh and Chyna's idea to get some good booze. I said no. They said..

"Come on" "Live a little".

It took all of my willpower to keep saying no. Peer pressures a bitch. They got the liquor, and Josh was an expert at it, and he lighted a cigarette after his drink. Chyna on the other hand, got tipsy really fast...and then full on out drunk. It was funny for a while seeing her acting all woozy and saying weird things. This girl had never really drunk anything, and tried drinking on very disconnected times in her life. I remember, more music, feeling sleepy. I felt like I was absorbing the mood in the room. I only remembered faintly that I was hungry, after only having a bag of chips and a pop this morning.

It got a bit crazy, soon all of us were laying in the same bed. Chyna was being aggressive, thoughts of her boyfriend, far from her memory. It was fun, all a joke. more music. I felt woozy. Then I could tell that it was starting to wear off. She had two shots, and it was a couple of hours ago since she had drunk. The music. Daft Punk started up and Chyna began dancing. She's hypnotic, had Josh's and my attention. She made it sexual...it wasn't suppose to be like that. We were having fun, joking...music...and she started dancing on him. It was hot. I felt aware. Too hot. She made it sexual. I didn't want to be apart of it. He left the room to light a cigarette and calm himself down, Chyna went with him. I packed. Looked around for my things, Eon Sky. They came back, not holding, but I had an idea of what might've happened out there. They asked me to stay
. Chyna with her guilt trip.."You always leave me"

Josh.."I hardly ever see you, just chill, and I already said I'd take you home".

Me..."No I'm a big girl, I can go home by myself, I wanted to see if my friend was online, I haven't talked to him in a while, I just want to go home. No I'm not mad".

Chyna..."If Robert asked you to stay you would".

Me..."Yeah.. I probably would stay".

Josh..."I'm just like Robert, I want you to stay so you should listen to me".

Me..."You're not Robert".

Josh..."What's the difference? He's gay and I'm not"...

Me inside my head.."He is so much like him, his eyes, everything, it's just too much"

I left, not looking back, in the rain, by myself. Thinking..it wasn't suppose to be like this. I told him I'd call. He kept trying to look me in the eye and read me.. I let him look...you know what the secret to being a good liar is?

You have to believe in the lie, even if just a little and no one will know what's the truth if you will it so.

Theatre and City Lights

These last two days were one of the most memorable this year. I had orientation at my school. The last orientation I would have there before graduating. I wasn't excited, but dreaded it. My best friend Chyna decided to come with me and we hung out around the school, and everyone kept asking me, is she new here? My friend is beautiful in this off beat sort of way and it always gets the attention of those around her. When Robert, Chyna, and me were at the train station these group of guys went up the stairs and were staring and tried to talk to us. I hate that more than anything, when a guy does that, makes me feel like a piece of meat. Robert screamed up to them "She's not available". I found that very funny.
At practice we were on top of things, we worked our asses off until we were tired as hell, and then we sat around for the show. Robert was getting nervous and I got more excited as time went on. The play was just so damn beautiful...We staged a die in to show how things were in the 80s during the AIDS out break, and the dancing, and the HIV stories...we got a standing ovation. Then our director came up to us and said, "You're the best cast we've ever had, and you don't know how much you've changed my life with your performances." And other people kept coming up to us and saying how great we did. My head started to swell, but then I got all modest. I was like, "it's nothing"...

The next day we got back there to practice for another show, and this one had to be better than the last. Since the first one was the rougher version and this show had to be more polished. So our director cut some scenes...shorted some lines, and one of my friends(poor guy) was forced to memorize five index cards that had a shit load of writing on them by the time of the show. I thought practice was horrible..we couldn't concentrate, and we kept laughing at about everything. One good thing happened though. Since Tuesday me and this girl named Bre have been around each other. She's spontaneous and very affectionate. Everytime she put her hands around me, I thought I'd just die, and it helps that she can sing, which she did to me a couple of times. Before the show began that night, she lifted up my chin and kissed me behind those black curtains and blue dimmed lights. Ah..just thinking about it, gives me chills. So we were on again, and this time, about ten of my friends came to see me. So it was a bit harder for me to concentrate, but I did. Once again standing ovation, and then me and friends went on a night out on the town.

Now usually this would evoke a sense that we went to a party and got drunk and hooked up with someone, but it was the complete opposite. We were like little kids. We walked around at night, and past clubs, and went to the park on the north side with big cherry and blueberry flavored slushies. We ran around the park, got on swings, and tried our luck at the monkey bars. This is very weird seeing that we're ranging from ages 17-20. My friend Chyna's a fiesty one and she almost got into a fight with a lady in her apartment, because she told us to get the fuck away from her window. Walking down Halsted, the gayest street in Chicago, past rainbow flags and M-to-F transsexuals with slinky red and black dresses on, we went at got icecream from Baskin Robbins. It was so good, the caramel and the cookie dough ice cream melted in my mouth. We attempted to go to the arcade, but none of us had ID to prove that we were not underage..which is stupid, because I believe we look it. Oh well..

So all of us got on the train and talked about music. Robert and Chyna got off on the stop before me and my friend Josh. Josh decided to take me home. It was ten minutes til two before we got there, and we talked about past lovers, our interest, finding it hard to get a lover who wants to talk about art and music, things we loved. I always thought Josh was a bit too cool to hang out with me, since I first met him my freshman year. He was this black rocker type, easy going attitute, knew how to play the guitar and was in a band, and a damn good artist. He was so good in fact that he got a full ride to the Art Institute of Chicago. We talked about going skateboarding Sunday and swapping music. Overall these two days were pretty great, today is one of those lie around and gather my bearings before I have to go do other things like meditation classes tomorrow.

Change

A while ago I remember dreaming about a bat. This symbolizes transformation and change, something I've been going through at the moment. Things are starting to fall into place, and life is great, at least for today. Remember the broken vase? Well I've managed to put it back together again, but with lots of bits left out as usual. Things are as they were, even though I know I'll suffer for not letting go, I shall hang on for a long time. I looked into his eyes and found that soul I relate to so well. It filled me with joy and a little sorrow to know that I was allowing myself to be bound tightly again.

Spotlight with Sam Cooke

Today was almost a bad day. I woke up late to rehearsals and told them I'd be two hours late, a bird nearly shitted on my head, and two busses passed me at the bus stop, but luckily there was another bus right behind it five minutes away. By the time I got there, the director was both homicidal and suicidal. She got so frustrated at one point that she threw her herbal tea for tension and stress right at a guy's head. It all seemed very amusing after having a fitful three hours of sleep dreaming about tarot cards. Some people started taking naps on the back stage, and I was one of them, laying on that cold, dark, and dirty stage floor behing the black curtains. I kept laughing at odd moments and talking to myself. I suppose that's how it works after an eight hour rehearsal session. We have two shows this week, Wednesday and Thursday, and I think we've got our shit together, but it's iffy at best and I'm not looking forward to waking up at six in the morning to have another eight to ten hour rehearsal session. But I have a confession to make, I love it. I love being on that stage and according to the director, I'm a natural. The spotlight nearly blinds me but it's exhilirating. The play is pretty depressing though. It's about HIV/AIDs and the difficulties of coming out about having it. That Sam Cooke song(which is the theme song of the play) gives me goose bumps every time I hear it.

During rehearsals I started to think about the fucked up relationships I have with my friends, and how now, everytime I have a tarot reading I'm represented as the eight of swords, a woman blindfolded and bound with swords around her and a dying river below her feet. I'm so stuck and lack clarity in every situation, and it's hard to take off that blindfold and losen the ropes that bind me. That song.."A Change is Gonna Come", I hoped with all of my heart today behind those black curtains that change would come, where one day I wouldn't be the eight of swords, maybe become the page of hearts like my best friend, and have a more open heart. I hoped that I could stand on my own two feet and be the woman I've always wanted to be.

I was born by the river in a little tent
Oh and just like the river I've been running ever since
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will
It's been too hard living but I'm afraid to die
Cause I don't know what's up there beyond the sky
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will
I go to the movie and I go downtown somebody keep telling me don't hang around
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will
Then I go to my brother
And I say brother help me please
But he winds up knocking me
Back down on my knees Ohhhhhhhhh.....
There been times that I thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will

-Sam Cooke

Ancestors of Fire

Today I got to thinking about my family, and how I can learn how I ended up the way I am by looking at them. I hate and admire my mother. She has this hypnotic power over me that I try to break, but everytime I go running back with my tail between my legs. She's going through what I'd call a midlife crisis. I think she fears getting old even though I still think she's beautiful in a fiery sort of way and the temper to match. She tries to be younger, getting tattoos, nose piercings, and I fuss and complain, as if I were the parent trying to talk some sense into my wily teen. My mother is flawed, as human beings we all are. I try to study her, see where she's coming from and why the hell she has these unexpected outbursts. The fact of the matter is that...my mother is just plain unpredictable. Her anger can come out of nowhere and just as soon disappear just as fast as it came. It gets way too tiredsom trying to keep up with her. No matter how much she brags and tries to be "hip" I know she's still inflexible and has set principles, and she'd never accept me or what I believe in. This I am sure, and we will never be able to get along.

My dad is magnetic and regal and very creative. I've always thought of him as the sun in my universe, but he's a secretive man. Sometimes I find him keeping little silly secrets from me. I had realized by the time that I was fifteen, that Ididn't know a damn thing about my father, only my idealized version of him. I depended on him for stability. I never thought my mother was with her crazy mood swings. Turns out he was the self destructive type, not kind to himself. He did drugs just like the crazy artists/musicians in his family, and was on a dangerous road. He claims that when he had a near death experience(someone pointed a gun at his head, but the guy let him go) he decided to change his life forever. He's been at it for twenty something years now...never set out for what he really wanted to do. He was a cab driver working shitty hours and then became a janitor at a hospital...he wanted to sing. He still does. I remember my child hood and him singing in the morning, the sun casting a glow over him as if he were some sanitly being, and his voice was the gift of angels, but that was in the past. After he "found the light" he also found religion and became obessed with "god's word". I never got to much in it myself even when he had me go to church with him. At an early age I mistrusted it, and as a little girl I thought adults were a bunch of hypocrits. Dad had a blindspot for me, after a while he let me find my own path, and didn't make me go on his new religious journey with him. After I found out that I didn't know much about my father I set out on a quest to learn everything there was to learn about him, hoping that in some way, I could find out about myself in return. I was his favorite he would tell me later in my life, and the one being that kept him coming home everynight.

My mother and father had silent wars. They tried to keep it down behind closed doors, but always failing to hide what was really going on. I still remember a particularly violent fight between them when I was four. That year is one of the most memorable years of my life. I say that because I seem to remember it very well, more than other years during my childhood, which are a bit blurry at best. I don't think my mother ever forgave him for leaving her, and I remember quite vivdidly when she got angry at me and yelled "he left you as well"...I can't tell you how much that hurted me. She saw my dad in me. I took after him, his looks, interest in the arts, and secretiveness. I hid everything from her because I knew my mother. She was the type to let out things to the world whether the world wanted to hear it or not. Good ol mother...she knew how to say things well...Her wit cut invisible slits in my bones. No matter how much I guarded myself from her, she could always get to me. Her mother was the same way..and the cycle continues...Ah my grandmother...she loves me for some strange reason..even when I mess up bad and am not a "good christian" in her eyes..just like my father..a blind spot. She had a full scholarship to the Art Institute when she was twenty-one...a grand feat for an african american woman. Her talent was tremendous, but she gave it up to have a family. I loathed that story everytime I hear it. My grandmother could've been free, but over time she stopped drawing. I feel like I have a family who are losers. They give up what they truly wanted most, except my mother. She worked her ass off to be a nurse. Unlike my grandmother and father, she loved math and science and was interested in the human body. She had to be tough, but she lost her patience and she gives none of her children any, even when my brother was diagnosed with ADHD at a young age. He was the troublemaker. He dropped out of school, hung out in the streets, but he had a literary gift. I believe he still writes once in a while. I'd have to say my brother is one of the most sensitive assholes I know. One time when my mother was being oh so cruel..she said, "your brother has no brains, and you have no heart". Well here I am now, I would say I can be a bit cold, but I have some fire in me? I have no planets in the fire sign, but I was surrounded by fire sign individuals...is that why I can't seem to connect to them?

Lonely Night

I'm starting to sound like some badly written emo song.

The other day's practice went pretty bad for me. My mind wasn't in it. I was charming, sure, and everyone gravitated toward me but I believe I was concealing my anger very well. He was at practice again. Every time I see him I just want to go the other way and I tried to silently repel him away. I think he brings out the overly dramatic martyr in me. I wanted to be strong and keep a smile on my face but it was fading slowly as the day went by. Three hours of rehearsal felt like a lifetime of pain. I was looking at the stars last night and I thought, man if I could be up there and not down here. I'm lonely as hell. Bitter and got damn lonely. I'm a fool for giving my heart to those fuckers that don't deserve it.
I had the weirdest dream two nights ago. A girl I know named Deja appeared in my dreams, except that she was two people. I remember hanging out with a group and we went into this store and this lady who looked just like Deja didn't want my friend to buy this hat, I think it was red. I was like "fine I don't want your damn hat anyway". She gave me a hard look and said something and I remember apologizing to her. Then she said she would give us a psychic reading. I went in and she examined me with her eyes. She came really close to my face and seemed to be peering into my soul. And she started pressing harder and harder. I held on even though the pressure was getting a bit too much for me. But then something broke, and she seemed to be in, and then pleased, let me go. She said, "You were the one that lasted the longest". I don't remember too much after that but that I looked back and walked out with the group and the other Deja. I don't have the slightest idea what that dream means, but I remember before that night I was having the most extraordinary day. I seemed to be having some kind of visions, and predicted that I'd see two people that I haven't seen in a while, and the color of my friend's shirt. Strange Nights.

Tornado Warning

There was a tornado warning today. This is very strange you see, since I live in the city of Chicago. There hasn't been one I believe since this area was mostly rural..and that had to be about a hundred years ago.
I arrived at the field house on broadway and waveland just before the rain came. I was an hour early for rehearsals, so I sat in the cold white washed room and sat by the window. I'm currently reading The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy. Beautiful book. I deviled in it's pages with an intensity matched by the oncoming storm. I wanted to escape. A few glorious minutes, the rain sloshing down against the windows, wind howling, and me lost in the miseries and woes of Tom and Savannah Wingo. Why don't you make me happy anymore? There's nothing but sorrow when I'm around you now. Your eyes said everything, the message though got lost in translation. You seemed to be pleading with me, trying in those looks to figure out where I stood, whether walking out on me damaged me and I would be angry with him forever, and how long is forever?! Not long at all, because I could never be mad at you no matter how hard I try. I love you but you make me weep inside and a storm rages within me just waiting to unleash and I want to watch the rain pour down, and maybe I'll be free of you.

Broken Vases

For you my star crossed lover

I remember when my cousin got her first ceramic's set. She would use the dull colored clay and with her little hands, mold it in to a desired shape, and the shape slowly turned in to a vase. She decorated it with fake emeralds and sapphires that sparkled in the light. I remember her being very proud of her original creation and filling it with a few flowers from her aunt's garden, they were simple flowers. Lately I've been wondering what happened to that vase that she worked so hard to create. The time she put into it, it must still be with her. Did she simply outgrow it and throw it away, like so many hand made crafts are after childhood, or did it break and those simple flowers from her aunt's garden lay abandoned among the broken pieces?
As an afterthought, I began thinking on that long El' ride on the subway, what had happened to my vase. The one I put all of my love and attention into, the one that took me years to build and in a fourth of the time, to break. I loved that vase with all of my heart. I poured everything, all of my feelings, my secrets. Where did it all go wrong?

Self Realization

I thought I knew what I wanted to be since I was twelfth. I had it all planned out, to write, be a journalist... but then fate threw me a bad hand. I was lost and felt uncertain about my future plans and feeling like the current was taking me way of course, and during that year, all I could think about was just letting go. What else did I have left? I put all of my energy and time into becoming something I didn't know I wanted to be anymore. But Fate intervened for a second time and unforseen circumstances brought me in touch with David, who changed my life for the better, in more ways then he or anyone could have possibly imagined. Because of him, I have a purpose now. It isn't just something I want to do but I've made living my life to the fullest an art. I am the artist and the world is my canvas. Moments are my medium. My plans are to travel and see the world, write and experience life as freely as possible. That's all I've ever wanted my whole life, to be without restraints since most of my life I've felt trapped and unable to get anywhere, but that's about to change. So far I've been exploring my options in the arts from acting, drawing, photography...etc. I want to express. I feel like me and David's paths are aligned and we have a purpose in this life. Something remarkable can come from such a partnership, Both idealist searching for world peace, by helping those in need and learning about all of humanity. It's a big task, Who knows what the future holds? This is the Deus Ex Machina, plot twist, my life in motion.