3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

So I’m going to write everything until something makes sense. I read this tweet from someone that said something along the lines of “Pay attention to who comes to get you when you retreat inside of yourself.” There’s no one here.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

Self conscious and self aware are not the same and I happened to become both at once. I recognized that I needed to work on myself to find inner peace. I’d spent the first five years of motherhood learning that despite knowing who you are as a woman, your identity changes when you become a mother. It’s now year six and I still don’t know who “she” is.

I am a woman first because being a woman allows me to feel human. The woman I imagine myself to be knows how to cope with the white noise. As a mom, I feel overwhelmed, lonely, neurotic. As a mom, I should have all the cures and answers my children ask of me but I feel as though I’m coming up short; with empty hands.

My old friend battles anxiety and depression. I was her crutch. Imagine using a broken crutch. When I saw that I needed to pull away to be repaired, I tried but was discarded in the process so fuck her.

I have a friend who is negative. The world is negative. Imagine listening to a broken record. Even a broken clock is right twice a day so I keep her bc she keeps me.

I had a friend who lived in an old shoe. It turns out, we weren’t friends at all. I was her cobbler. Imagine being drained of healing properties you didn’t know you had.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

You owe yourself your mental health. I can’t help you if I don’t help myself. No longer unable to identify those that drained my mental health, I’m ready to dig into my deeper subconscious.

Night time, maybe even dusk. Think state fair in Central Park. Able to order plates from amazon. Ordered pizza bbq chicken and other random fare. Conspiracy theorist meeting nearby. People go up a tower and don’t come down. I went up the tower before my food arrived and returned without remembering the trip. My food was covered but the random ppl that ordered with me were gone. Saw a homeless guy run further into the park. I gave chase then woke up.

I am growing. I think.

I see him everywhere in everything. I wish I was referring to my higher power but I’m referring to my lost and late love. I wonder if this will ever get any easier.

My chest hurts. I wanna cry but the strength and stubbornness in my melanin will not permit me to do so.

I need you because I trust you even though it doesn’t seem like it. Again, blame the stubbornness in my melanin.

A woman who cried often taught me that the only real emotion or relevant emotion was her anger. I don’t know how to fix it. I heard this is called Black Trauma.

I don’t want to kill myself. I have so many stories to tell and trips to take. I just want to feel better. When I breathe, I don’t want the crack in my heart to feel like it’s bleeding. I don’t want it to feel like the bricks I laid around my emotions are eroding, taking my ability to love and be empathetic away in the winds if experience.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Agony

I’m tired but can’t sleep. My eyes are burning but they won’t close. My brain hurts but it won’t rest. I’m trapped in a continuous REM state and the entire show is a nightmare.

January 2020, my first property will be a building. This building will be transformed into a privately funded transitional shelter for single individuals and families. At least 10 apartments to begin. Hebrews 11:1

I’m tired. I forget to pray for inner peace and when I remember, the stubbornness of a born sinner won’t allow me to follow Psalms but I think it was people like me that Jesus died for. I’m hoping this is sufficient.

I’m so tired.

I am tired.

I miss him so much. I don’t think any of my friends understand why. He loved me through the mental break downs before we understood my affliction to be a mental illness. He loved me anyway. His family loved me anyway. They even liked me despite the burden my 14 year old broken spirit arrived with.

You are among my dearest memories. When my mother was thought to be hours from death, it was you, the person I knew least who comforted me the most. It was you who kept me occupied. It was you who visited my mother when I could not. It was you who watched me cry without judgement. Thank you.

I want an ofrenda. My father had one but it wasn’t called an ofrenda. It was simply the ancestors’ room.

I’m tired.

My phone is dying.

I can’t sleep.

But I must sleep.

Still nothing makes sense but I must sleep.

Master’s Masterpiece

He said he’d buy me a collar then we’d do erotic things.

I wonder what those things include.

Would he instruct me to gracefully kneel and lift my hair?

As he fixes the collar to my neck, would his rough finger tips graze the tiny goosebumps on my nape?

Before he walks around to stand in front of me, lifting my chin so he can see me

Staring into my eyes so he can see us

Clearly.

Because I am now his submissive.

A reflection of his dominance,

A result of his care,

His masterpiece.

:Random 24:

I’m racing against myself and getting nowhere fast.
Reminiscing on a past life when not much mattered.
Dancing all night with friends.
Endless lovers
Longer summers
and missing that life.
Wishing I took better care of my head start.

I’m here now
Lost and trying to regain consciousness
I’m here
That’s enough.

The past doesn’t matter.
The way he slipped your stilettos from your aching feet and kissed your drunken lips to hush your sober thoughts
doesn’t matter.

Soft nibbles on softer breasts
A sticky heat penetrating your skin.
My skin.
Our skin.

Alter Ego

image

Who is she?
She smokes cigars but still smells
like the first dance of spring.

Thick legs,
beautiful smile,
& a heavy heart.

Hard liquor coats her tongue
& singes your lips.

No make up,
hair unkempt,
brown skin
with worn leather framing her eyes.

Never begging for love.
Touch mimicking light rain,
words like thunder,
& unapologetically
freer than the wind.

Things to Do

It’s 3 AM. I haven’t done this is a while. “This,” meaning vent on a public forum. I’ve got a list of things on my mind; things I would like to accomplish that I don’t see happening in the near future but it would be beyond momentous if it did. So this is a list, no more or less.

1. Find an apartment in a quiet and safe neighborhood. Somewhere off the grid but not so much so that there’s no room for interaction.

2. Pay off my debts – particularly student loans.

3. Finish school. Become a CPA…but I’m almost 30. My mom tells me the world is coming to an end everyday & there’s no point in wanting more or trying for more. Never directly, always in a passive manner – but this isn’t the place for that.

4. Write comfortably about anything & everything. I want to lose the fear of offending my family and friends.

5. Apologize to my mom but also explain some things to. I think that my mom feels like making mistakes mean you don’t care. Nothing matters beyond the mishandling of a situation.

6. Talk to my sister. We don’t like each other. I didn’t start disliking my sister until a fee years ago when it became clear how much she dislikes me. The love is there. It’s still there, I can feel it but there’s also an unhealthy burden of what I’m hoping is a misunderstanding.

7. Reach out to Madison’s family – however I’m not pressed about it. This is actually the last thing on my mind but I don’t want to forget to put it up here.

8. Apologize to Desmond. He’s always been a great parent and supportive. I sometimes wonder if his supportive nature becomes smothering because it squeezes everyone else in my life out. This is a losing battle. There are things he needs to atone for as well and us both being prideful people, we try to have this conversation and it goes nowhere. My energy for this has depleted but the desire has not.

9. Apologize to Kesha. I said some wicked things to this girl. I miss the friendship but if I could take back what I said, I would and eventually, I will make my rounds because I am the queen of bottled up rage. Lord help the person it explodes on.

10. Talk to Taylor. This is a friend from childhood. I miss our childhood friendship but we have our differences and I believe have grown apart.

11. Put another list of things to do together for what happens next. Maybe add a time line to this one. There are still many things I want to accomplish while the world is shattering around us, while the tombs open and Jehovah’s rage grows more apparent. 

12. This isn’t quite as important either, I suppose. One day I want to explain to my mom why I hate that she brings up the time I asked her to call me Kimberly. I was around five or six. The ugliest little black boy said that I was ugly because I was black. Just the day before, I was his little girl friend and suddenly, I was hideous because of the color of my skin. It amazes me how these things, little things, can mold you. Anyhow, he told me that the white girl, Kimberly, she was pretty and she would always be pretty because she is white. I went home and left post its around the house as a reminder to myself and my mom that my name should be Kimberly. 

I’m going to bed.