Brain Droppings

Monday, May 03, 2010

Brother brother brother, i feel your energy but i can't hold you.
I can't hold you like your last breath.
I can't hold you like that last word you said to me that lingers between us still.
I can't hold you like that final gaze we had on that last hospital stay.
I try to live for you through me but i still can't capture your zest for life.
Some may think you had no zest at all, but danger was your middle name and
you never knew it until you were in it. You always found your way back home but
of course we could never hold you there for too long. You stayed only until the faces became familiar again and your middle name started to fade. We couldn't keep you, hold you, stop you though we tried. Life had different plans for you.
You taught me that life is just a high that you try to maintain. Whatever gets you there though for you it was danger. You didn't care much for those trying to
keep you from life. So you followed that high and now you can't hold us.
In my heart you will always be whatever you searched for, alive, happy, complete and high.
Brother, brother, brother, i feel your energy and i won't let go.

Pls help me keep others from contracting HIV/AIDS, donate

Thursday, January 14, 2010


I am at the edge of darkness. Teetering with the fear that you wouldn't save me if i slipped and plummeted to my death. I know it's not your job to save me, but i want you to. I want you to call my name and have the sound of your lovely voice bring me back to your smile.
I want your loving arms around me. Keeping me safe from harm. I want your intense stare to reach inside me and free me of all the alien sounds. The ones that tell me I'm no good for you for too long. I'm infected with doubt and you can't help that. I try to be confident and make it shine at you like the morning sun creeping from behind the horizon of the urban landscape but light dims with my attempt.
There's a hunger inside me for a happily ever after with you but i'm teetering at the edge and i don't know if you will save us. Yes, i know it's not your job to save us but i want you to.
On the clear days when i see love seeping out of your pores and lust growing in your pants I grow excited and pull away from the edge. Why does lust makes me feel like i'm worth saving? I am more than just a sexual outlet to be plugged. I know you don't feel like this is all I'm good for but, you do like plugging me and i like it when you plug me. It makes me come alive and pull away from the edge of darkness.
I know it's me that needs to stop teetering at the edge of despair. I play with the notion that it's you that needs to save me. But really it's me. I'm the superwoman that has to jump to my rescue when I'm teetering at the edge of the darkness waiting to plummet to my death. It's me that needs recharge myself and not the mass in your pants. But then, as if by magic I think and hold my head high and I know that there's no way possible you could love a woman that has no regard for her self worth and not only do i realize that but i notice that I'm nowhere close to the darkness, i just have my face buried in ur loving embrace.
Happiness is in my hands and i have the power to keep it there, even if it is for the moment that i see my light in your eyes.

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Sunday, November 29, 2009

The Goose Gets You Loose

Setting: Dee's house
Ocassion: Denise's Birthday Celebration Part Duex or so
Outcome: Wild and Reckless Abandon

I'm getting too old for this (hangovers). However I'll never be too old for this brand of fun. My homeies are the best. First off, Denise had like 20 parties for her birthday this year. She did turn 30 so i guess it was appropriate to send out her 20's with a bang or multiple bangs as it was. The night began calm and effortless. There was no pressure to go all out and we were in the kitchen as usual having good conversation and genuine laughs. The attendees multiplied and the liquor came out.
First drink consisted of Lemon Smirnoff and Cherry 7Up. I don't know where the idea came from to mix the two but it taste great.
Hahaha,hohoho, hehehe, was all you heard coming from the kitchen. The stories began. OH, do you remember that time we were in Cancun. Yo once when i went to Vagas. Nashville doesn't seem like a place to visit but i had a blast. The stories always give way to remenisent times and then it's TIME FOR A SHOT! We sing Denise Happy Birthday and then it's back to the debauchery.
There's always an old one in the group (that's me) and a young one in the group (that's Lauren). We tell some more stories about how it used to be and how it is now and all along there are interuptions to grab another drink. This time the Goose gets mixed with some cranberry juice. Then a Wii was introduced. Imagine a bunch of 20 and 30 somethings bowling in a living room. A drink in one hand, Wiimote in the other. Everyone telling you, the bowler, not to do it like that and you can't hear them because Alicia Keys latest single is blasting out the speakers and it doesn't help that your singing it at the top of your drunken lungs.
Finally everyone is starting to look a little piqued after a salsa dance off and a mandatory moment of chillin' on the hallway steps to have an enlightening conversation about those who are no longer with us. I get a little misty thinking of my brother but then somebody trips over my body and I totally snap out of it. Of course the fact that half a drink in the big red solo cup is spilled on my shoulder helps.
Time to pack it up and pack it in but not before someone tosses their cookies in the bathroom sink and the birthday girl takes a nap in the tub. Yes, these are the things that normally happen at the gatherings in Dee's house and it doesn't even have to be your birthday! I often feel like we're still kids and the parents are away. It feels so excilerating for some reason. We always help with the clean up and then it's off to our own homes to pass out until the next afternoon. This time though i woke up to me spooning Dee @ 7:30am. I got my stuff and put the slam lock on. Another birthday in the bag...

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Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Are You Looking For Me

Are you looking for me? I'm looking for you. I looked for you yesterday. I look for you everyday. As the train speeds past me I look at the spaces between the cars and faintly, I see you. I see you when I'm leafing through a book about my life and there you are always smiling and warming everything in ur path.
Though I know i won't find you I still anticipate bumping into you. Looking for your face in the crowd. Listening for your voice in this huge vociferous city. It seems like I'll never hear you, but there you are at every corner and in every word it utters.
As I walk through the days that are marked by my steps I contemplate the day your steps won't be too far behind mine. Sooner rather than later you'll catch up. Then I'll not only see the warmth in your smile I'll feel the passion in your lips and realize that your hands miss me as much as my heart misses you.
For now I'm gonna keep on searching. I'm gonna write this moment in time. I'm gonna hold it close and save it. I'm gonna find a way to make it. I'm gonna find that moment when we share that lasting embrace and show my love is eternal.

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Monday, November 02, 2009

And I am Telling You

So this wknd has been a humongous eye opener. I Am A Mother. Ok, I know most people know that but i certainly didn't feel like one. I felt more like a father. Let me explain, I hope some Dads don't get offended out there.

Dads don't kiss booboo's or speak "baby talk" to their kids. They don't cut the crust off and they always have the "it's better to be tough than a sissy" mentality. I have always said that I'm not a natural mother. That i have to try too hard to be nurturing and engaging when it comes to my sons creativity. I thought I was like my father, A provider. Not that he didn't love me but my impression of him wasn't nurturing. Not until i got older. So i thought of myself as a provider of things like shoes, clothes, school supplies, gifts on Christmas. I have always seen how hard i work to bring home the bacon just to buy more bacon. But inside i always wanted my son to run to me when i walked in through the door. I used to when i saw my Dad and I thought i was my Dad so why not.

Well I realized this wknd that my son runs to me in his own way. That he prefers to hang on my every word and at he has to have some part of his body touching mine at all times. He's curious as to where I'm going and who I'm talking to. Text msgs and email are read over my shoulder and I can't be out of his site for more than 2min or he's screaming for Mami like he needs air. I don't know why it took me 8yrs to notice this.

I was jealous of his dad for some time. But he can't give him what I can. He may not run to me when i walk in the door but I hear him take flight when he hears me speak. I see his eyes light up when we make dinner together and I tell him how great it taste. At night he hugs me so tight and tells me to stay with him so he can have sweet dreams. And I am telling you I'm not going nowhere.

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Saturday, January 20, 2007

I feel pretty and witty and gaaaay

I, like my former cohort Mrs. Brainbombs have begun a similar transformation. I have decided that it's not enough to say that I'm going to better my depressing behavior but to actually do it. I have a few theories as to why I feel like a black hole will swallow me at any given moment and my son will be left to fend for himself in Florida with his father (perish the thought). The thought of that alone has driven me to change my outlook on life. So here is my plan.

Appearance (least important but, makes a difference): I have to say that I don't take much care of my outside appearance. I hate brushing my hair. I never wear makeup and I only just begun to pluck my eyebrows because some of my more feminine friends insisted that I become a "woman". (yeah, cause that's gonna do it.) My clothing is a little more exciting than a teacher for more than 15 yrs. I'm very basic and don't like loud colors. I stick to black, navy and occasionally throw in a splash of color but it's not often. I have a serious amount of shoes that I adore but I never wear them because I have nuthing to go with them. Not to mention I don't go anywhere either.

Attitude (now this one it hard but gratifying): I'm just down right surly some times. I don't want to be bothered if I'm not in a good mood. Ok, lots of people are moody but I am beyond reproach at times. I have devised a plan. When I wake up in the morning and I want to kill someone on site I TRY to smile or speak (preferable with someone I can stomach) or at least be approachable. I make myself smile (it hurts so bad) and laugh at things I wouldn't usually even allow to enter my space of consciousness. In other words I become engaging. No matter how much it hurts or how annoyed I become I smile.
I smile because people at my job have become intrigued as to why. They don't understand how I walked in with no expression on my face or a good morning from my lips in the past but now it's; HAHAHAHAAAAAA, or morning! Have a great day and all that jazz. I have really fucked them up with this transformation of myself and I have to say, I like it.

Friday, December 29, 2006

Happy Holidays!