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.

Cathedrals

So I'm in my room listening to the song Cathedrals by Jump, Little Children. I've loved this song since 1998 when it first hit nationwide radio. But sitting there, alone and a little bit cold, I realized that I don't know any of the lyrics, what the songs about, or why I listen to it. All I know is that everytime that I do, I have the undeniable urge to cry, long and hard. I don't even know what I want to cry about. I just want to lie down and let tears flow down my cheeks and know that I'm feeling something real- something downright life-altering. Of course I never cry. I haven't cried in the entire decade that I've been listening to this song.

I walk over to my laptop and delete the track without even thinking. I just delete it and exit itunes in one swift stride. I don't really know why. It doesn't even matter. In around three months I'll download it again and listen to it nonstop for two weeks, sitting alone in my room, wanting to cry, and not really knowing how.

Once back when I was in eighth grade I made this mix cd that had every sad song that I could think of on it. It had Cathedrals, and Colorblind by Counting Crows, and Needle in the Hay by Elliot Smith. It was my favorite cd. Well, I would play it so loud, for so long, that eventually I didn't hear it anymore. I just felt it vibrating through the room. I just liked the way I had memorized the piano and guitar chords so well that I was positive I could play them if you gave me an instrument. I was sure of it.

I'm listening to "You've Got the Best of My Love" by the Emotions right now and I love it because it reminds me of when my mother dances. She has this huge smile on her face, snaps her fingers to the beat, and steps from side to side. I want to dance like that for the rest of my life.

At the end of my senior year in high school I was obsessed with that movie Once. There's a song in it called "Falling Slowly" that is the most played song in my itunes library. It has 378 plays because I used to put it on repeat while I slept. Ive done that with alot of music. I'll share some of those songs with you at the end of this post, just for fun. Just because when I remember each song I can see exactly who I was when I first discovered them. Maybe that's why i love them so much. Maybe that's why I love music, because even when I'm asleep it moves me.

I don't know why I'm talking about music so much these days. Bear with me.

Songs To Sleep To:
My Time Has Come by Destiny's Child
His Eye in on the Sparrow by Lauryn Hill and Cece Winans (from Sister Act 2)
Love 2 Need 2 Want by Urban Ave 31
Love is You by Chrisette Michelle
Raise it Up from the August Rush Soundtrack
Winter Song by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson
Amsterdam by Coldplay
Everybody Needs a Fence to Lean On by Headlights
Just For Now by Imogen Heap
I'm Lost Without You by Blink 182
Play Crack the Sky by Brand New
Try by Nelly Furtado
Home by Vanessa Carlton
Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson
Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

-kia

First Entry...

So I deleted my last blog because it didn't sound like me anymore. I could probably go into detail about what that means, but I'm positive you don't care. Anyway the topic of this blog is none other than the unstoppable Beyonce. You know her right? NO? Oh well than I'll show you a picture:


Yeah...there she is.

Anyway I just watched the video for her latest single "Halo", and I think that I had an epiphany...I hate Beyonce. Those of you who don't know me as well as you could will be surprised by this (seeing as I've been a Destiny's Child fan since I performed Say My Name with back up dancers and singers in fifth grade), but I think that my once main girl has officially become an image. That doesn't go so far to say that she was ever a true "artist" (whatever that word means today) or that she is any different today than she was two years ago, but it does say something about who she is becoming.

Now let's get one thing straight: we all know that Beyonce Knowles is a commercial powerhouse. After selling almost 50 million records worldwide with Destiny's Child, she went on to release three highly successful solo albums (garnering five grammy awards alone with her first), and to star in many feature films (ultimately procuring two Golden Globe Nominations for her role in the Broadway musical Dreamgirls). Beyonce's success worldwide is enough to earn her place in pop culture history, and that is of course a fact that I would never aim to dispute in any way, shape or form. That is history.

The question that I am truly trying to ask with this blog is whether it was wrong of me, and countless others like me (because i know you're out there), to love Beyonce for so long knowing that she represented so many things that I don't believe in. For example, what does it mean that Beyonce managed to procure the same number of grammy awards in a single night as Lauryn Hill did in 1998 with her critically acclaimed album The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't ever presume that Beyonce had any of the chops, talent, or insight to create the music that Lauryn did in that single album. In fact, although Lauryn's sophomore effort, MTV Unplugged 2.0 received mixed reviews, the emotion and honesty her lyrics captured rivals some of the greatest lyricists alive. An artist is meant to take us on an emotional journey, to show us how real love, pain, and isolation can be, and how music can embody all of those things. I'm not sure that Beyonce is the girl for the job. I'm not sure why I even presumed that she was. She is after all often referred to as "pop artist", giving her a firm position beside the likes of Madonna, Janet Jackson, and Rihanna (each a success in their own right). These recording artists don't make music. They make money and tunes that people will never forget because they are so catchy and repetitive that a dog could remember them. They can perform there asses off on a live stage and everyone knows it. They can make hits. I just wonder if they can make emotion.

I don't know. I think that at the end of the day I want a song that I can feel moving inside of me long after I've forgotten the tune or the lyrics. I want music that moves me. I guess I'm just disappointed in myself and I thought I'd share it with the general public. Also I recently learned that Beyonce actually sang in the film Cadillac Records. She wasn't dubbed. This might not anger some, but as a die hard Etta James fanatic who respects her artistry to no end, Beyonce's renditions of her songs made my ears bleed. I know that Queen B has conquered every avenue possible with her clothing line, albums, and movies, but even Angela Basset didn't have the audacity to sing Tina Turner's songs in What's Love Got to Do With It. Granted, Angela is not a grammy award winning artist, but she can definitely carry a hefty tune. I just think it's a matter of respect. Only Etta James (and maybe Eva Cassidy) can pull that song off in the way it deserves to be sang. A biopic should never be plagued by contemporary sounds, and Beyonce is the epitome of contemporary music right now. Honestly, if they wanted a current artist to cover Etta's songs they had so many other options (like Cassandra Wilson maybe?). Beyonce's stardom is taking her so many places I just wonder how much she deserves all of these honors. She is definitely a hard-worker and dedicated artist, but she is not the best actress nor is she ever going to be the next Glady's Knight or Phyllis Hyman. She will live on forever just like Whitney Houston, but Whitney unfortunately was a pop artist too.

Okay, I'll stop ranting now and leave you with a few songs by some artists that really know how to move me. Check them out sometime!

Four Women by Nina Simone
Lost Without You by Blink 182
Okay I Believe You, but My Tommy Gun Don't by Brand New
Needle in the Hay by Elliot Smith
Round Midnight by Jazmine Sullivan (cover)
Hey Joe by Jimi Hendrix
Cathedrals by Jump Little Children
Whether You Fall by Tracy Bonham
Nothing Even Matters by Lauryn Hill
Wounds in the Way by Rachelle Ferrell
Sugar/Brown Sugar by Ledisi
O-o-h Child by NIna Simone (cover)
Time After Time by Cassandra Wilson (cover)
Home by Vanessa Carlton
Cry by Hans Zimmer
Your Hands Are Cold by Dario Marianelli

See you for my next entry. Also, does this mean I have to stop listening to Beyonce?

-Kia