Tuesday, June 23, 2009
A librarian once told me it’s not those sistas that you should be watchin` out for but those French whores, the Québécoises. The woman behind that desk was talking about white girls. It was funny to me, not in a haha way but in a weird way. In her case it’s true that a hint of black blood makes you fully black. Valerie is biracial. Her father is a dark skinned Brazilian and her mother is French Canadian. Therefore, her mother stole our man. Are they really our men? I don’t own black men nor do I want to. As a matter of fact I don’t own no man, no human. What is up with some women thinking that they own a man because they are part of a certain ethnic group? It is sickening to my stomach which what were these words coming out of Valerie’s mouth. I like to think its Binationality but unfortunately the correct term is biracial, why put the race in it? There is only the human and animal race and since I can breathe like the red, black, yellow, brown, white man and donate blood to whomever needs it well then we are all the same, right? Indeed we are. Why is there such a divide?
I guess it’s because whether we like it or not we live in different worlds. Depending on our backgrounds and skin color, we go through very different obstacles. The world, life caters to some of us and for others it’s just a bitch, just strugglin`. Just like beautiful people get more attention than ugly people. Whites get more opportunities than everybody else. Now in a way I can understand ``race`` because of regardless of how I look, my world, the life of a black woman is completely different from the life of a Caucasian, Asian, Hispanic woman. Then again what about my light skin women? Those sistas, my sistas. Im of a beautiful, dark, chocalate, smooth, soft, sexy complexion. Am I treated differently than my light skin, caramel friend Sara? Perhaps and it’s a fact and I accept it but don’t appreciate that mindset. Lighter is better just like beautiful is better and thinner is better. There is a divide there. I’ve only noticed this divide last year after having a heated discussion with Mama and Nana about the light skin, dark skin topic. I know that Nana felt like Mama and I were gangin` up on her and for that I am sorry but sista` Nana I still stand by my point.
My fellow sister and Sri Lankan beauty Anu battles with the light skin mentality. In fact she uses a lightening cream; it disappoints me to think that my friend believes to be beautiful you must be light. I’m dark skinned and I think I am beautiful …..at times….. at least more than I think I’m ugly. I appreciate what the world has to offer and its different beauties, the diversity, men, women and between. The complexions are so pretty, why would you want to look the same.
I’ve always been comfortable with my skin color. I never had a moment where I wanted to be none other than dark chocolate. It is understandable that societal norms and the western idea of beauty can pressure people to go to extreme lengths to be closer to that idea. Take me for example, I exercise and sometimes eat less than I am suppose to, to maintain and have that suitable body type, the one that is accepted and gets by in life. Everyone has their insecurities.
Friday, June 5, 2009
J inspired me, she made me realise the errors of my ways. To be frank I knew what the problem was, I knew then what I know now. Heart broken is who I was, betrayal is what happened, loneliness is what I faced and my insecurities were my control. Can’t get a hold of anything else in my life than well change me and make my flaws perfection. Girl, you need to stop making these foolish excuses… words from J. After dealing with him, I stopped caring for myself. Perfection was my goal and still is what I am eager to achieve. J kept on calling me negative, my attitude is shit. Today was really the first day I felt good about myself. I’ve matured, my face has matured. I look amazing, distorted thoughts. The more it sinks in, the more I feel attractive. I want it to the bone, cause this is my control. Sometimes, I miss V`s company but I know I am better off. Avoid that nuisance. Bitch is rotten. The dick used to be good; I loved that connection with a man. Strong arms, hit that hard. Make me moan. I loved that shit! My spiritual connection is no longer, sex is now absent. I’ve abused of it. I’m so wrong; using men like he used me.
This is just a draft, a few thoughts.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
There is so many things going through my head right now, coming and going and over and over again. I’m not in a good mood, I`m not in a happy place and neither in a sad place, maybe I’m PMSing. I should be getting them in a few days n-eways. Maybe it’s my environment, my entourage. Well this is what I can say, I’m Félix and I am ready to explode, I am carrying too much weight on my shoulders and everyone around me does not seem to get it. Félix must be weird, Félix is just lazy. I’m pretty sure you all know how it is being a 19 year old college student trying to pass all of the courses and managing your love, social and work life. It is already hard enough; any individual would feel like blowing up. On top of it all, you’re working on a personal project with some friends, hoping that maybe… just maybe that little project you got goin`on, you’re Fashon (term meaning fashion coined by Félix) little baby will bring you independence, big bucks. Imagine not having to work for anyone, it’s a wonderful dream; I sure hope it does come true. Now if I could just get the idea of what the f*@k biology really is, every time I study for this ish I seem to get stuck. My thoughts wonder while the material is processing into my head, just pray I do not fail this exam. As you can see I`m not at a high level of multitasking. My homies, are they truly my home catz? I’m precious, sensitive and just slightly a drama queen and I am owning up to it but my home`s seem to enjoy making me the bud of all jokes, I do not think this is exaggeration. Sharing my ideas, my thoughts, my personal life with friends is a way of showing that I trust them, now having a Felix exhibition and even in front of my face is something I call disrespectful, you should never treat a fellow hustler this way. Now joking around about your ish with your crew is one thing and it is GoodtimesGoodtimes but jokin` around about your ish with acquaintances is crossing the line (no more Goodtimes). Catz have one perception of you but strangers that hear your buiznazz ( business coined by Félix) for the first time assume that you are that type of person and it usually not positive. I have learned my lesson and there are some things you should keep to yourself. I believe in being open but don’t let people get too close, there are some exceptions but just be careful for shiz! Catz don`t let your home`s down and keep it reaal!
Je garde en tête que ce n`est pas la fin du monde et je me rendors !
Félix the Home`s Catz
I believe that I can say that I am part of history! Of course there is the fact that the president of the United-States of
training for a cell phone company. All should be fine, I’m maybe broke but at least I have my health!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
This simple human, her simple walk. Happiness runs through her voice as she speaks to the man who wishes to marry her. She thinks about how life gets more complicated as we age; undeniably we have noticed time pass by faster then we had expected. Humans do not know that it is lost; it is gone, until it isn’t apparent anymore. Compare the then of our youth to what we are now. She is just a young adult facing all the obstacles and more, as any adult her age eventually surmounts. She has definitely seen worse, therefore she keeps her head high, and prays to whomever is up there hoping that she can wake one morning when the sun has just risen, look out her window and stare at the world: a new day with no worries, no tears, no cries leading to a scream and hopes of escape, no more internal destruction. That day will be the beginning, a fresh start with the man that she now wishes to marry. As all of her important cards fall from her wallet in front of a crowd of travellers, she tells her love that she will call him back, and then picks up these indispensable objects. These cards hold her back, that job holds her back, school holds her back, materials hold her back. She takes her seat, embarrassed by the fact that she had almost fell, and realises that she will never be free; she will never be free from society. But what does it all mean? Then again, she is a minority, will she ever truly be free ?
She transitions in and out of sleep.