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hinged: a central point or principle on which everything depends

if your
self-love
stability
comfort
strength
identity
comfort
or comfort lies in your complete understanding of me, who i am, why i am, and why i am not like you...then your sanity is in peril.

if your sanity is threatened, you are liable to do insane things.

it is an insane act to publicly, and even privately, humiliate a person because you think she looks strange. it is an insane act to humiliate someone because you think her strength is TOO MUCH FOR A WOMAN. because let's be clear, the initial inquiry into the biological gender of ms. caster semenya was a sexist act. in my humble and loud opinion, all women need to be completely insulted. with the initial inquiry you were told that you could not be that strong. any person that strong must be male. it doesn't even sound strange when i say it. and that is the problem. and now this woman is reportedly undergoing counseling and is under suicide watch? some powerful heads need to be hanging low in horror at what they set in motion. not one person alive fits into the original mold of who we were supposed to be. it's entirely too restrictive. besides, there are too many different minds configuring that mold.

any one of us could be caster. i know i'm different. i know i make many uncomfortable. icing on the cake is that i don't give a fuck. i mean, i'll sit down and talk to you. i don't hate you and i don't resent your curiosity. i swear i'll try to make you understand how i am different from you and how valid my experience is. but if you can't accept that there are things you just don't know, that you need to be told, then it's your work to make sure your comfort is not hinged to my submission. cuz good luck to you (and often good luck to us all) if it is. uncomfortable people are capable of insane things. with a touch of gall they can humiliate, they can assault, they can murder, they can rape.

the issue many don't understand is that i do not make you. and you do not make me. if you fail, it is not because i made gains. your understanding of our differences is not your biggest problem in the world. it will not cure all that ails you. it is not cause or permission for you to grant or invalidate my right to be who i am. it is not cause for you to disrupt my life. who i am cannot shift according to your desire, so it is not defiance toward you. my identity does not shift according to your need for comfort and understanding, so your comfort cannot sit attached to me.

often we put too much stock in understanding our differences. gasp! what kinda radical black lezzie am i?? understanding is enlightening. it feels good. but first, to shield our self and our fellow man from the power of our ego, we need to acknowledge that we will not understand every difference or explanation, and that ignorance should never threaten our sanity.

sure, let's discuss "traditional marriage"...

With all of this debate about gay marriage, we as Americans, and particularly Black people, need to really re-examine and perhaps respect traditional marriage. I mean, I'm all for a fight. But since traditional marriage seems to be so important for the have's, especially Black have's, let's remind ourselves of what traditional marriage actually means. Maybe we really do need to preserve it. Hell, I could be wrong...

"...These two services are often cited because the right to education and the right to choose one's employment are commonly thought of as the two most important rights that were denied to slaves. However, the cruelest aspect of slavery may have been the denial of a slave's right to a secure family structure.

Current social theorists emphasize strong family relationships as being paramount for an individual's emotional and mental health. (Owens 191-192) A stable nuclear family was almost impossible to maintain under slavery. Marriage between slaves was not legally recognized. Slaves requested permission from their masters to be allowed to marry and the recognition of the union only came from within the slave community. The slave marriage ceremony, if one was held at all, varied from the couple jumping over a broomstick together to exchanging vows in front of a white minister. Whatever the nature of the wedding ceremony, slave marriages ultimately depended on the will of the masters. Some slaves were forced into "marriage" for breeding purposes. (King 64, Owens 93, Unwritten 1) Husbands, wives, and children were often separated when sold. To many whites, the slave family consisted of transient members who could be easily exchanged emotionally by the slave as they could physically by the master. Because of this, slaves obtained a reputation among whites as being immoral and devoid of family values. (Owens 193)"

--Valley of the Shadow Project at the University of Virginia
http://valley.vcdh.virginia.edu/HIUS403/freedmen/fs/intro.html

Sounds so familiar:

• Marriage between ___________ was not legally recognized.
• To many _______, the ______ family consisted of transient members who could be easily exchanged emotionally.
• Because of this, ________ obtained a reputation among _______ as being immoral and devoid of family values.

An account of marriage by Mary Reynolds who was once enslaved:

"After while I was taken a notion to marry, and Massa and Missy marries us same as all the niggers. They stands inside the house with a broom held crosswise of the door, and we stands outside. Missy puts a li'l wreath on my head they kept there, and we steps over the broom into the the house. Now, that's all they was to the marryin'. After freedom I gits married and has it put in the book by a preacher."

So, go jump your pretty lace-covered broom, share your rose-colored views about the tradition of marriage, and enjoy that that you believe to be your god-given right. If it ain't broke for you, don't fix it. Freedom in this country has long be fought for by a minority and won without the sweat and tears of those unwilling to disturb their comfortable peace, and I am not worried. The stumbles on our path don't upset me. I see the future. Twenty years from now, after the battles have been won and the war has ended and soldiers on both sides have settled down, I see millions telling tall tales about what side of the fence they were on, afraid to look cowardly or bigoted in the eyes of a purer generation.

As a child I looked at the angry faces in pictures from the days of the civil rights movement and wondered where did these people settle in to? These people who fought so hard to preserve their way of life and to deny very simple rights to a group of people they felt were so unlike them, they were clearly walking amongst us without a sign or a patch to distinguish them. In polite company, nothing distinguishes them so I can't ask, "What do you think now? How does this equality you were so scared of, how does it feel now? Does it hurt as much as you thought it would? Did the initial sting bite but the pain subside?"

But it's just curiosity fueled by the knowledge that as polite as we are to each other now, many of our gracious neighbors once proudly and publicly embraced more selfish thoughts. So as hard as it is for many of us to take losses graciously, I personally don't worry. The day of the Prop 8 ruling I walked around with Dr. King's voice ringing in my head. Lines about the promise land. Even if I don't personally see the day when my right is legally my right, I know that day is coming. Don't be angry. Don't be complacent. Settle in on the right side of the fence now and have faith. Breathe. It really will be ok.

persistence pays.

i do believe that persistence pays off.
if you persist
in running away from love,
one day you will succeed.
you will look back and find yourself alone.

love will finally tire of chasing you.

be yourself...

what is she thinking?
does she like me?
is she thinking of me?
is it too soon to call?
should i wait for her?
will she feel flattered or stifled?

from all of the thoughts that i so deftly disguise with a cool pose and a dismissive laugh, what you'll never hear me vocalize is my often debilitating fear of fucking up. i never told you this, but the dip in my self-esteem is the belief that possibly i played a strong role in the failure of my past relationships. but let's be very clear. this wonder is merely a grasp at elusive straws. trying to take control of my life, as if fate can be wrangled. but as wholly as i respect fate, i equally understand that through introspection and the earned admission of fault, one (i) can possibly avoid a destructive pattern, become a better person and a better partner.

i'm attracted to the rocky road.

i see this as a pattern in my life. the women (and men) that i've loved most deeply were the ones i could never have in my most pleasing fantasies. i could confess the love i previously chose never to express. i could work to be as problem-free, stress-free, conflict-free as a breathing/thinking person could be. i could never leave the house looking less than my own personal best. but perfection never won troubled lady. this is not to say that i wasn't loved. sometimes the easiest love to find is that which has been purposefully hidden from you. it's part of the game. but sheltered, measured love is not enough to keep a healthy heart beating.

the flip side of this worn-down coin is the obvious. with the exception of one mutual love, those that wanted me most never stood a chance. there was almost nothing they could do to rekindle my initial affection once i realized it wasn't steadily intensifying. i'm too much of a hard-edged realist to force that which will eventually die anyway. as cruel as this feels (when either of us is the recipient), it is the way of affection. no person can be convinced to be in love. i can't convince myself to love the most healthy suitors in my past. damn i wish i could! i have known some wonderful women! but what's good for us isn't always so obvious. there's something that keeps the obvious from being the answer. for me, i'm attracted to a woman with her own mind, her own ambitions, her own life. but when someone else's time is consumed by their solo pursuits, those that make them attractive, you're left to wonder, "do thoughts of me creep into her mind?"

you want them to have other things to do. you don't want to smother or be smothered. so a woman with pride asks herself, "how do i navigate this in a cool way?" how does one woo, be wooed, express her admiration, know that she is admired and wanted, without playing herself and scaring off her crush in the ways that she has been scared off in the past? the answer is the cliche.

be yourself.

i am finding that the most freeing and empowering thing i can do is to not hide behind the heavy mask of perfection, divulge my unattractive secrets, be unavailable when i'm truly busy, be unavailable when i need alone time, admit the things i'm ignorant of, say no when it's appropriate, demand the things i need, be clear about my desires for my and our future, and express myself when i'm hurt or fearful. i will balance this new life with my generosity, my affection, my trust, my faith, and my support.

and if i can look to my right
and see that she is still sitting there
beside me,
undeterred by my virtual strikes and bruises,
then perhaps
i can breathe.

please don't push.

in the dark empty corners, where my true self cowers, i miss being simply a child. i want to take lessons without the threat of shame for not being THE SHIT. i want to feel you out without feeling you up. i want to feel you up without losing. i never learned to love without pride. never learned to to give emotion over blindly. i never learned how to plant your pain and wait patiently to see what grows. i've mastered a stiff back and indignation. try to get one over on me. sigh. insecurity masks itself as perfection everyday. that's not my life's ambition. i don't strive towards "amazing." i just want to learn what you like. am i moved? i want to dip my toe in without being pushed. i want to fuck up without shame and feel that at that moment, despite all, i know more. i drive slow, veering into in the left lane, and i hear the horns. inspiration is a dangerous thing for a practical gal like me.

no harm, just another false alarm

Last night I dreamt
That somebody loved me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm
Last night I felt
Real arms around me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm
So, tell me how long
Before the last one?
And tell me how long
Before the right one?
The story is old - i know
But it goes on
The story is old - i know
But it goes on
Oh, goes on
And on
Oh, goes on
And on

--the smiths

the walking wounded

it's taxing work to take life as it comes and accept the indisputable fact that things happen because they are supposed to. there's fate and there's faith. we play our role in this drama driven by emotion, desire, will and thought, but ultimately there's fate standing in the background, strong and confident. i feel like the only way to make it through this game is to just have faith. emotions can wrack your body and leave you raw and spent. faith heals hurt, disappointment, rejection, lonliness and it eases a wandering mind. it is soothing like aloe.
the sagittarian tongue is stronger than the heart it protects.

my heart is shielded well.

but in order to keep going, smiles and dreams in tact, i must have faith that i'm ok, not for all, not for one, but a select few. i fit somewhere. someone is looking for me. my flaws are clear and present. like ugly scars they will soon fade. no salve quickens the process. i am who i am, but not what some see.

and then there is the fickle heart and the overactive mind.

my ex-stalker once told me that one day someone that i wanted would not want me back. i told him that i've always known that. that's life. then i told him to stop calling me at 4:00 in the fucking morning.

i may never know why she didn't call. she may not be interested. she may be hella busy, just wishing for more time. curious eyes and smiling voices don't tell the whole story. what is supposed to happen happens. i have to have faith that things will work out, not in the way that i want, but in the way that i need. and faith eases the discomfort of patience.

for the first time, out there.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

sometimes when i'm lonely,
don't know why,
keep thinkin' i won't be lonely,
by and by
::langston hughes::

single, single single...life

i'm surrounded by signs that its time to stop fucking around, grow up and settle down. my new friend just asked her girl to be her life partner. people getting married never quite bothered me so much but maybe because its two women, both younger than me, dreams and expectations i'd long freed to save my sanity once again seem fresh, attainable, real and normal now. things like a wife and a home. plus my friends seem to believe in me in a way that makes me believe someone might want to settle down and live with me forever. i've always thought i was a loveable person but that seemed to be the exiting conclusion of all my exes, that someone would appreciate me someday. thanks. but hey, i'm not stupid and i'm not too self-centered to consider that part of the reason i'm usually alone is because of something i'm putting out there (or holding back). the reason this has never bothered me before is because i never regret ending a disfunctional or dead end relationship. sure i would be able to say my longest relationship was five years, but if i had waited that long it would have been four years of me making excuses for someone i love but know doesn't treat me like i'm worth her time. as i write that it sounds harsh but it has been my reality. and shit like that is just not good enough for me or anyone else i know. anyway, its inspiring to talk to someone who feels the need to exclaim at random times how much they are in love. the exciting thing is knowing one of these days someone will feel that way about me, and they'll tell me. they won't hide behind a concrete wall of pride. and i'll feel the same way. i'll be so in love that i'll slowly creep from behind all my comfort zones and make her feel just as loved. i haven't met her yet but i'm patiently waiting. no rush. i've got work to do.

the pansies are line dancing

i've decided to always make sure boondocks is in the top five posts. and yes, i am joking.

it's hard out here for a ho

a message i sent to a friend who was proud of three six mafia's oscar win:

well, i didn't watch the oscars...cuz i don't care. i hated the movie [hustle & flow] and i hated the song. besides the problematic treatment of women in the movie, the story just wasn't that original or touching! i mean come on! a pimp wants (pick one a. a better life. b. to be famous. c. to make music. d. to share his story), he works hard to get a demo made, gets it to a rapper who ends up shitting on him and he lets his emotions take over and ends up in a worse situation. so...the...hell...what? what is so original? and i want anybody who can, to please help me understand how the hardships of a pimp outweigh the hardships of the women who have sex with strangers for money...only to give some of that hard earned money to a pimp who complains about his hard life. get the hell outa here! i love how people think that it ever gets easy for a prostitute to let a foreign body touch or enter hers. it's hard for a pimp? really? i wasn't aware. and yes i too am absolutely mortified that this sexist buffonery was performed on the oscar stage. i enjoyed seeing the joy on three six mafia's face when they won, but not at the expense of a woman's (any woman) respect. "i'm in charge!!" cheesy!!

my new signature:

"it's hard out here for a ho!"

brilliant!!

aaron mcgruder is hilarious!

complete idiot's guide to having black friends

the complete idiot's guide to having black friends

you best protect ya neck

i feel like i'm surrounded by too many dope-ass women who don't recognize their status as dope ass women.

Never Offer Your Heart to Someone Who Eats Hearts
by Alice Walker

Never offer your heart
to someone who eats hearts
who find heartmeat
delicious
but not rare
who sucks the juices
drop by drop
and bloody-chinned
grins
like a God.
Never offer your heart
to a heart gravy lover.
Your stewed, overseasoned
heart consumed
he will sop up your grief
with bread
and send it shuttling
from side to side
in his mouth
like bubblegum.
If you find yourself
in love
with a person
who eats hearts
these things
you must do.
Freeze your heart
immediately,
Let him—next time
he examines your chest—
find your heart cold
flinty and unappetizing.
Refrain from kissing
lest he in revenge
dampen the spark
in your soul.
Now,
sail away to Africa
where holy women
await you
on the shore—
long having practiced the art
of replacing hearts
with God and Song

i posted this because it's one of my favorite poems. it helps me get my shit back on track. pushes me out of love with someone who is not hurt by hurting me. keeps me from worshipping someone who is pre-occupied worshipping their own greatness. self-love is necessary. priorities are admirable, sexy. but you gotta know for yourself where you're ranked. and when you know, you gotta decide if you're high enough. no? take back your admiration and with it your pride cuz nothing is worse in my mind than someone giving the control button leading to their state of being (happy, sad, proud) to someone who recognizes and abuses their power. they know they can rock your boat, and when they aren't feelin' right with themselves, their gonna need to look down on you and you're still giving them the power to push you just as low as they need you to be. it's really all about self-preservation. not a brick wall, cuz brick walls may keep trouble away, but they keep sunshine away too. there has to be a certain amount of openess to self-preservation. allow life to happen. allow people to come close, but when you stop feeling good acknowledge the change and take control. that's it for now.

the n word

snatched from allhiphop.com:

Various rappers and celebrities are featured in the upcoming documentary, "THE N-WORD," a straight-to-DVD film exploring the use of the controversial word. Russell Simmons, Chuck D., Quincy Jones, Whoopi Goldberg and other celebrities share their personal experiences surrounding the word. The 85 minute documentary is executive produced by best-selling author Nelson George and was written and directed by Todd Larkins. "It's a word that's been seared into the American psyche," Larkins said. "It's used to insult, enrage, demean, and oddly enough endear. It was a subject that begged for deeper examination." "The N-Word" hits stores nationwide on Jan. 24 via UrbanWorks Entertainment.
For the full story log on: http://www.allhiphop.com/hiphopnews/?ID=5257

i swear i don't get this bullshit about how we changed the meaning of the word nigger. if i call my best friend a skankin ho, she knows i still love her, and that i'm being funny, but that the reason its funny is because she knows it's an insult. she's not thinking, boy, if some sexist male called me a skankin ho we'd be rumbling, but since it's a fellow female, the meaning of skankin ho has now changed to mean sister. hey, if the meaning of the word has been changed, as some wannabe powerful negroes seem to think we have the POWER to do, then why do i cringe every time i hear a black person, latino person or (gasp!) down-white person say it on the train...in an endearing way? and on that note, why get pissed when a young white guy says "nigga"? we've basically explained to him that in removing the "er" we have taken away the negativity. shit, why shouldn't he wanna be endearing with us?? boy, i wish i had the power to change other insulting words by mispelling them!