I want to eat all the snacks in my house,
but then I’ll be sad when they’re gone.
And then I’ll be too lazy and stuffed to
go get more.
I need minions.
Quit staring at me, lady. These tears are for Bowie.
It’s January 10th. I woke up this morning much the way I did exactly a year ago, unaware of what the day holds. Only, this time round, I didn’t collapse in tears.
I couldn’t tell you what I did a week ago, or even two days ago. But I remember – painfully – exactly what happened a year ago, where I was, what I was wearing, where I was headed for the day, all of it. And much like one year ago, the eyes blur from salt water and my skin shrinks against me, as though my body is trying to hug itself out of mourning.
Today deserves no cake, no fanfare, no smile. Today is a day the music doesn’t die, but rises like a phoenix given life by all it’s followers.
Today we mourn the loss of David…
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November 5th; just days after Halloween.
Commercial advertisers have completely jumped over Thanksgiving and are already priming for Christmas. I haven’t heard any Christmas carols as I’ve been out and about, but I suspect it’ll be coming soon.
Ads are pushing their Black Friday sales, so I guess that’s their back-handed acknowledgement of turkey day. Because, after all you can’t have Black Friday – which is the day after Thanksgiving – without getting through Thanksgiving, itself.
Although, in the past couple of years the term Black Friday has been broadened, so that Black Friday is not Friday. Well, it is Friday, but these days it tends to start on Thanksgiving. During early dinner. Probably, even during the Macy’s parade. But, of course, before that, there are the Black Friday Preview days. Ugh.
It’s absolutely nuts. Let each holiday be its own season
It’s 11:55 pm on day 4 of this #NaBloWriMo thing.
I’ve spent most of the day alternately dozing, bleeding, cleaning myself up, and breathing heavy.
No, I’m not an obsessive serial killer moving bodies and doing forensic countermeasures. I’m just old and tired and still having my fucking period.
At 52. Seriously heavy periods. In my possession I have 4 1/2 bags of overnight pads, because it’s all so much.
I actually bled some much I had to get 4 transfusions. So, yeah, I’m sick of this shit.
And tired and weak, and anemic.
During the course of the evening I managed to get a couple of things done, with effort. But, while I enjoy being a girl, sometimes I actually don’t.
and that’s my post for today. Sorry if it’s way too much tmi, but I don’t even care right now.
As an Afro-American man in this nation called the United States, it is a known fact that at the professional level one must possess a dual-identity. I don’t know too much about everyone else, but for me in these trying times maintaining such a thing is driving me to the brink of insanity. Professional black man by day, abolitionist writer/speaker by night, there is a severe conflict within myself. All of the micro-aggressions suffered at work. All of the near-blatant racist ideas uttered by my colleagues. How am I supposed to soak up, the notion for example, that a guy that I had Christmas dinner with would plow through a set of protesters with his 2010 Mustang?
This is how racism works: you can have friends, people who hold you dear even, have outright racist ideologies towards your skin tone. You can have girlfriends, boyfriends and…
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Not. A. Thing
Oh, here’s something:
I can’t wait for this election shite to be over. I already voted (HILLARY! HILLARY! HILLARY) Gotta love mail-in ballots.
There we go.
See ya tomorrow.
I love taking photos of abandoned places; there’s such beauty in the disrepair.
Well, actually I like looking at the photos. I am definitely not one to go poking around in creepy abandoned spaces. I watch too much SYFY channel.
Hey – remember me? I used to post stuff here. On my blog. One of many. That I’ve basically abandoned. I saw something online and I think I might participate in it. So – you’ve no doubt heard of NaNoWriMo.
No? Well NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write every day, and by the end of the month you’re supposed to have completed 50,000 word novel.
Yeah – not doing that.
There’s also NaPoWriMo, for writing a poem a day, which happens in April. I actually did NaPoWriMo one year. You know, back when I actually posted stuff to this blog.
It was interesting, and kind of fun. Not that every poem I wrote was a winner, but I’m quite proud of what I did.
So, anyway, apparently there is a blogging version of this writing thing, called NaBloPoMo. Aaaaaand, you guessed it – this is my first post. (Yep, there’s “Blo” in the name, but I’m gonna be a grownup and leave it alone)
Mind you, if you participate in any of these things, you’re supposed to sign up or register or something. Make it known on the official sites.
Yeah – not doing that
But anyway, you can check out ideas and prompts and just get some general info on the whole thing.
So, let’s see how this goes.