This is what happens when you live in a middle of nowhere city, located in a middle of nowhere town, in one of the most boring of all southern states. Yeah…I did my best to narrow it down without revealing the “mystery.”
1. When something really good happens, we call it “shit”
Ex. “Man, that movie was so good; you really need to go see that shit.”
When things are really bad, we call them “shit”
Ex. “That was the dumbest shit I have ever seen anyone do in my life.”
2. There’s always going to be that one person or thing that changed your life, but you’re never content having found.
i.e. you’re always going to wish you’d found them/it sooner, later, or not at all no matter when it enters your life.
3. Complaining about those who complain.
I know, I know. It’s not so much an idiosyncrasy or paradox as much as it is filled with hypocrisy.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for; I do it, but the mechanisms used to recycle put more toxins in the air….I guess this is also irony.
5. Music that trends the most is normally bad music (according to the standards of most, not just my own).
Exhibit 1: Rebecca Black (No offense to you if you ever see this, but your music is pretty terrible. You need to admit this to yourself. You got your fame for being in awful…but you’re rich, so take pride in that…)
***As this lovely holiday season carries on, I will likely be updating this list. In the mean time, if anyone who happens to see this has anything of their own they’d like to add, feel free to let me know.***
So what this whole acting “white” or acting “black” ordeal? In an attempt to avoid discussing the anthropological argument, I’m just going to skip straight to my sociological observations. You’re welcome
I’m black. I’ll just throw that out there. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me I wasn’t black or that I “act white,” I would surely be rich by now. Despite race being observationally defined since, I don’t know, forever (you get my point), now it not only lies in the way you look, but the way you act.
Since when does being black mean:
1. Listening to rap and r&b music
2. Being uneducated
3. Having a criminal record
4. Using bad grammar/spelling/etiquette
Since when does white mean:
1. Listens to anything but rap and r&b
2. Higher education
3. No criminal past
To be completely clear, calling me “not black” does not fit. While I fit into none of the implied categories my physical being is still considered black. To say I “act white” also does not fit.While I do fit into a few of those categories, it is still inaccurate. Until I no longer get the discrimination of being a black woman (and regardless of what you think or what you see, it does exist), then I will always be black despite my inability to fit the proper stereotypes that identify me as such.
“Something has changed within me
Something is not the same.
I through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game”
I met the perfect guy, and I’m supposed to like him; hell, I’ve tried to like him, but while I find him attractive, I’m not attracted to him. I’ve tried to figure out why that is, and now that I think I have…there’s no turning back.
“Too late for second guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
Now it’s time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap”
But I’m afraid. There’s so much on the line here. I’m standing on the edge, looking down, not knowing what to expect. If I jump, I just may fall…
or, I just might fly. I don’t know. Here’s me, admitting who I am, accepting who I am, and taking a leap of faith…
“It’s time to try defying gravity
I think I’ll try defying gravity
And you can’t pull me down”
There’s always that one song
You know every lyric, every beat
Every note on every sheet
Each detailed pause between words as you sing along
You’re that song for me
I know every curve of your lips
The contour of your hips, your fingertips
The slightest twist and shapes of your teeth
I could hum the tune, sing every word, never miss a beat just as you breathe
My song is beautiful
I could sing it word for word
It’s one you’ve likely never heard
Unless you’ve looked in the mirror on the wall
I tried to sing it to you more than once
But you didn’t understand
You let your lonesomeness take the upper hand
And played oblivious to my obvious stunts
If only you’d noticed everything I’d done
I didn’t want to, but I’m jumping the gun
You might want to shun me, even run from me
You might do so understandably
But I’m convinced you could have been my one
Sooner than later, this song will likely end
I will disappear, be no longer near
The circumstances even more unclear
Questionable may be my status as “friend”
Finish my song; I’ll lend you my paper, but, truthfully, you’ve always held the pen
© KDJ 2011
I’m a brick
I’m a tree
No one, no thing can get through me
My strength is unmistakable
Means no commotion
I live with pure devotion
This is me.
But in reality…
It’s too bad it’s all a lie.
© -K.D.J.-, May2011
Hm. I called this flight of the Phoenix. It’s my second tattoo. It has a lot of significance for things that have happened in my life and is heavily tied together with my first tattoo (no picture of that online yet.) Oh, and yes, that is an actual song.
It’s a place where dreams are made and broken, where the idea of fun can kill the possibility of the future, where those who begin without privilege will likely finish without privilege…It’s college.
My college experience is foreign to many, but recognizable for few. Working forty hours a week to have somewhere to sleep and pay bills, taking classes in which quite a few people, busy or not, strugged with ( I’m doing fairly well), followed by a few extra curricular activities in order to maintain my sanity.
That was an outline of sophomore and junior years.
This year, my senior year, I’m working two jobs. I’m involved in various extracurricular activities, and trying to prepare for graduate school. Coming from an area that gave me no privilege, I’ve earned every single aspect of my life here only to be told that it’s not good enough. Neither my GPA nor my preparation is, by any means, poor, but it still seems to negate everything that I have accomplished just by hearing it once.
Just when you think you have your ducks in a row, reality comes in with a shot gun and takes them all out. Where am I supposed to find a new row of ducks?
I came to college so that I could help people without opportunities in ways that best suited them, whether local, national, or international. I was told a dream could never be too big, but I was never warned of the probability that the opposition of it’s fulfillment would be evenly matched. I haven’t stopped dreaming…big dreams. I just have to find a way to get bigger results.