Flying High

I've felt really good as of late. Movies and taking walks with babies for hours. Talking on the phone until its too late. Writing. Sleeping. Reading about people who live lives as simple and as real as my own. Thinking too deeply about one thing. Thinking too little about another. Flipping a coin and not even bothering to peer at how it landed, simply shoving it into my pocket and smiling because I don't need a stupid coin anymore. I've got my hands. I've got my lungs. The ground beneath my feet.

I should go home soon. I need to recharge in that way that I can, only when sharing a room with my mother. She reminds me of deep dark holes full of secrets that she's not afraid to share, to scream into your ears until you understand: "don't get pregnant", "men are dogs", "you're hair is dry", "i love you". I need to believe in myself again, to remember where I started. To tell my sister that she can do anything, no matter what any tom dick or harry says. To tell my brother that he has always been the bravest of the five, the boy with the big head and an even bigger heart. I want to watch birds take flight. I don't care if they're pigeons. As long as they disappear after a few moments. As long as I'm convinced that they had somewhere else to go.

I'm ready.

Sam

Last night I was on the 70 bus around 2 AM. I was sitting next to this ridiculously drunk bald guy who I had an approximately thirty minute long conversation with. Ironically, I said absolutely nothing throughout the entire exchange. In fact I was nodding of to sleep for most of it. He just mumbled on an on incoherently while pointing at my face and then down at my shoes. I would understand the occasional word: "nike", "motherfucker", or "the FBI", but the rest was just this steady hum of nonsense. The perfect lullaby.

When I was stepping off the bus I said goodnight to the bus driver and she just nodded. Then she looked up into the rear view mirror and smiled, half yelling, "Quiet down now Sam. People are tryna get home." The doors shut behind me and I noticed that Sam had already changed seats and was now talking to the old guy who sat two seats ahead of me. The man looked more agitated than he needed to be. Then again, I guess I have no idea what was going through his head.

This whole encounter replayed in my dreams last night too. I found myself wishing that I'd said something to Sam, or smiled, or just let him know that I was listening. I guess I didn't really know the guy, but he obviously wanted to know me, whatever his drunken intentions. Is it really that bad that all sorts of people, from all walks of life want to reach out to us? I think we occupy ourselves so often with the idea of "inconvenience" that we don't give people the chance to change our lives, even if just for a moment. Hell, for all I know, the guys could have been a riot. Then at least I would have laughed once or twice before bed.

Secrets

I want to tell someone a secret. For the past few days it's been burning inside me like the desire to burn something, to rip something apart, or to just hold someone's hand. I want to actually believe that it's okay to have my own feelings that have nothing to do with what others want for me or expect of me. Whenever I'm on the verge of understanding something about myself I break my back trying to avoid it. I watch shameful amounts of television. I write pointless stories that I will delete and never read again. I bury myself in books and the lives of other people. I go for walks and do ab workouts that only remind me how much I hate that I care what other people think.

My cousin is in town today and I'm excited to spend time with her. She always calms me in a way that no other person can. Being around her reminds me that I, too, have to live.

That's such an interesting idea...we have to live. What if I don't? What does that make me?

Trying Again

I'm going to try this blog thing again. I've decided that I usually stop posting because I feel like I'm not talking about real things. I just feel like I'm lying. I don't want to be a liar. I don't want to fabricate feelings and memories. I don't want to create another persona. I have enough of those.

I just want to say something that's real. So this is me trying.

I went to the library today and got a new library card. I had this ridiculously long list in my phone of books I've wanted to read for years. I finally checked them out. I'm finally doing something. I hope I can stick with this. My tendency to sit on decisions (and feelings for that matter) has recently made me semi-hate myself. So I guess you could say I'm turning over a new leaf. I've never liked that saying, but I used it anyway. I don't like the word leaf.

I have a 20 hour a week nanny job. I don't know how I feel about it yet. The baby is only two months. She doesn't ask for much besides your undivided attention. I think I can do that. She smells like heaven when I hold her...and puke. Sometimes puke.

Songs I'm obsessed with currently:
Morning Lullabies by Ingrid Michaelson
Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl by Broken Social Scene
Gobbledigook by Sigur Ros
I Found A Reason by Cat Power
Wait for Me by Gregory Douglass
The Fear You Won't Fall by Joshua Radin


Living away from Smith is hard. I didn't realize I had invested so much of myself into those buildings and those people. I've never done that before. I miss feeling like I'm a part of something. I miss Abi. I miss Molly's subwoofer and Vampire Weekend. I miss Sober Dance Parties in Talbot. I miss holding hands and Joshua Radin. I miss Carson.

The end I guess.

30 Surprises

Yesterday my brother was sentenced to thirty years in state prison with no parole. He has a two year old daughter that my mother is raising. All I can think about is the idea that she might never really know him. My brother is a good person. He just made a few mistakes. I wish the law understood things like that. I wish I could see his face right now and call him "big head" and ask him to twist my hair before he goes to work. I wish I hadn't spent the last three years of my life away from him. I wish a lot of things.

Life can really surprise you. Life can really sting.

Men

I came to my room to take a nap, but I ended up tidying. This is good. Molly will be home on Saturday and I don't want the room looking atrocious for her arrival. I never realized how much I like living in mess (probably because eventually I get to clean it up).

I'm excited that alot of Capenites will be getting back in the next two days. I want the hallways to feel alive again, and I want to hug Julia and say hello to Charlie. I missed him alot. I missed Julia more.

Today has been a day for Common. I put Electric Circus on repeat for an hour and then I switched to Be. Both albums are great in my eyes, but Kanye is such a good producer that I sometimes prefer Be to other Common albums. I can relax to Common more than I can to any other rapper. Also I like to look at him. He's really pretty. I'm always glad to see a beautiful black man. Nothing makes me happier.

In fact, because I think that everyone should enjoy a beautiful man at some point in their lives, I'll share a few of my favorites with you.

Common



Michael Ealy


Columbus Short


In conclusion, here is Beyonce's video for the single "Halo" from I Am...Sasha Fierce. I like this video for two reasons.

1. It's bright and Beyonce does very little.
2. Michael Ealy




-Kia

Wants

I wanted to call my mom today and tell her how afraid I am of living. I wanted to sit down in her bed and tell her about all the things that have happened to me in the past three years: how I fell in love for the first time, fell out of love for the first time, and am afraid that I don't know how to be alone anymore. I wanted to tell her how far away she feels since Katrina and how my life at Smith has only deepened that divide. I wanted to cry onto her shoulder and actually have her jokes and hugs make me feel better. I wanted to feel like I have a mom again. I know that she loves me and that she will stop at nothing to make sure that I am safe and happy. I'm just afraid that I don't know how to go back to the self-conscious, dependent girl I used to be. I've basically made all of the major decisions about my life since 2005, from where I lived, to where I went to school, to how I managed my money. I just wish she would help me with how to look a girl in the eyes when you think she's wonderful and how to stop yourself from crying when you know it won't make anything better. I wish she could just hold my hand sometimes when I have no idea who I am or what I want.

I wanted to sit next to her in church and still think that she was the only person that could make me laugh so hard that the ushers hushed me from their posts.

I don't know. I just wish things were different.