Who's Gonna Watch You Die?

Over conversation with my dear sister, I found out today that my nana died. 4 years ago. Alone in a rest home. Suffering of dementia.

My Father (my nana's son) died two years prior to this, and when he died there was further dissension within that side of the family. I was so distraught that I didn't even have the mental capability to handle the fact that the last time I would ever see my nana was at my father's funeral. At that time the oldest half-sister on my father's side (who was also the executrix of his estate) did inform us that after the funeral, she wasn't having anything else to do with my nana, and I just didn't think anyone could ever be that cold. I couldn't even fathom it. I was lost in my own depression and grief from the loss of my father and anger for the callousness of this act, that I never saw her again. I couldn't get past it, I just always thought my nana would still be alive whenever I got to the point of facing the reality that my oldest half-sister threw on all of us during the week of my father's final arrangements. She was 98.

Here's the obit:

"Florence Self 1910 - 2009 was a member of the Self family. Florence was born on May 22, 1910. Florence died on February 13, 2009 at 98 years old.
Florence Self's last known residence is at East Longmeadow, Hampden County, MA 01028."

I cannot imagine being so alone. 

I didn't even think about how amazing it was to see her face light up when she realized it was me at my father's funeral. 

This is so impactful to me, because as a child, she was one of the most consistant parental figures in my life. She made me feel like I was taken care of, and nurtured. She laughed at all my jokes, and made me do my homework before I could watch all the cartoons I could bear. She'd let me play with her hair and over grease it, even if that meant extra washing for her. She would play barbies with me during bath time, and made sure I washed behind my ears & brushed my teeth before bed. She'd show me pictures of us when I was a baby, and would always ask me if I remembered when. We would celebrate our birthdays thinking of one another since her birthday was a day after mine. She was my earliest and longest memory of love. Deep love. And I was too stuck inside myself to even see her one more time before she died, or even when she did. 

All that is left is a box of afghan blankets.

I'm writing this to implore you to not ever let this happen to you. I don't care how fucked up things are, if there is someone you have such a strong loving bond with DON'T let anything get in the way of that, not even yourself. Please share this message if you are so inclined, it is important to hold on to these loving relationships, you will never know how truly impactful they are to you.

I'm so sorry nana, so sorry.

A Spoonful of Sarcasm Helps Release the Poison, in The Most Delightful Way.

Hump Days are For Chumps & Posers.

So, here I am again. I have too much going on in my brain, which is creating writer's block. I'm going to word vomit a bit, I hope it's entertaining.

I will start with the most pressing issues, and move from there.

1.

There are things like education that are affecting me in the worst way. I don't want to sound like I'm simply bitching about a program because I was a slacker in it or anything, but here it goes. I don't really know what the real base of this disconnection is, or where to point fingers, but I had one of THE WORST years of my life this past year and I know that the program I was a part of weighed heavily on this. First of all, I was a commuter grad student. Oh, and the trip was 1.5 hours one way. That sucked the life out of me soon after it began. What also sucked is that I never was able to understand what the goals and aims of the program I was a part of actually were. I constantly felt disappointed with the syllabi and class structure of each of the classes I took (required and otherwise) and am quite sure that this year left me feeling like I've regressed in my writing, critical analysis, and my general motivation to stay in higher ed. It seemed like the less I put forth, the better my grade became. I don't understand how that worked, but it is what it is. Also, I felt that my dissension and critique was never taken seriously, and was only listened to so that the powers that be would be able to say that they acknowledged it. The program claims to be highly involved in activism, though it seemed that it was only as far as recognition of community groups, and branding took them. Seriously, one of the first things I did when I started there was check their community resources tab on the website to see what local community organizations that we were a part of and to my dismay, most of the links were dead or the organization had to close down because of lack of funding. This year, with the help of the super active and passionate Student Staff that I was a part of we have gotten the program more active with the community around the campus. We hosted TONS of events that engaged the community, and reached out to those that we were reppin' and collaborating with to co-host events with us, so things are getting better I suppose.

I felt like I was constantly misunderstood by the admin staff and faculty, and because of my commuter status, I was never going to be able to truly show my potential to them. Because of this, coupled with the fact that there was A LOT of double talk and contradictions happening around me, and my general disappointment in the syllabi & class structure, I've realized that this program just isn't a good fit for me, and committing this to text is VERY liberating. I am technically still enrolled in this program, but I will be transferring to the certificate program so that I can get outta there soonly (I would only need one more class to finish the certificate).

So, obviously quitting an MA program is really going to negatively affect my chances in getting into my dream Ph.D program and any Ph.D programs in general, so I'm stressing. That stressor was the reason I stayed in the program as long as I did in the first place! I am also stressing because of the fact that I'm not sure if my experience with this program I am finishing up my time with is an exception, or the rule, which is where my general lack of motivation to stay within these towers come from. I am a writer, I will keep writing regardless of any decision that I make academically, I just hope that I find and get into a Ph.D program where I am constantly challenged and positively grow! I would like to teach on the college level (higher level courses than intro and such, though I would obviously teach intro as well), while writing and networking in the fields of critical race theory, human sexuality, feminist philosophy, and gender studies. I'm putting it out there in the hopes that, "so it is written, so shall it be." However, the last thing I will say on the matter in this blog post is that I'd MUCH rather be in the situation I am in now, than stay in the program I am currently attempting to get out of. I would have LOST my mind if I had to spend another year or two in that mess.

Moving Right Along

2.

Money. I just started a job at Teavana (again) but this time I'm SELLING! It's certainly different, and addictive. It is also frustrating because of the fact that I am constantly taking personally if I can't sell the tea/tea merch to a customer or if I can't get a customer to even try some tea. I was told that I will soon get over that, and BOY am I looking forward to that happening.

I am also applying to a second job (because one part-time job does NOT pay all the bills) and excitingly have a second interview with them on Monday (this company employs a 3-interview process)!! I am definitely looking forward to it, as I have been wanting to work for this company for YEARS!!! I won't jinx it though, let's just say I'm hopeful.

I never realized how much I relied on the loans I was getting for school to get me by until that stopped coming in and have to work hourly for the pay I get, instead of dealing with a lump sum over time! This shift is a hard one, it has certainly gotten in the way of my writing, and focus on my writing & research. I think as I get into the new swing of things, it will hopefully get better for me, and easier to write and research. As of right now, I'm ALL over the place (as you can see).

3.

My love life is too complex for words, but finding clarity in it is too simple for me to worry about. Things are ALL over the place and my main question is where are all the single lesbians at in real LIFE?! Just sayin', the internet does WONDERS at creating the facade that there are SO many single available lesbians around, when sadly, I have NO idea where they are hiding... Putting myself out there is all.

I have a desire burning in my heart,
a yearning.

I am wondering if it will ever be quenched. 
Probably not.

I love love, and I love sex.

I love myself
and at best

I'll be happy with me until need be.

Seriously, it took a long time to get to this point, to be honest.

4.

I am currently working on writing about revolution, and I am finding it difficult to parse it in a productive way because I am so fucking pissed. I just want to say that a revolution isn't going to happen through love and suggestions to "be the change you want to see." I think through my experience this year, I learned that in most situations being "the change" does nothing if you are the minority (in this instance, the power minority). I find this tends to be the case because the power majority can (and in most cases, does) simply dismiss you and not take your critique or active dissension as anything intelligible or even if it is intelligible, wouldn't see it as anything worth while. In a nutshell, I find that in order for there to BE a chance for loving embrace of one another (accounting for individually lived experiences within our society), and living the change you want to see, there will HAVE to be some jarring event (or set of events) that DEMANDS visibility, recognition, and direct response. People will have to be willing to die for this. Now, I'm not saying that a revolution will be a bloody war or anything, I am however saying that there are SO MANY discriminations, structured ignorances, and disparate power dynamics that we have to directly confront, and based on the way things are going, the revolution will likely be tumultuous, violent, and everything you've imagined in your worse nightmares (about revolution).

So, I'm taking inspiration from the following in the construction of this writing:

• Iris Marion Young
• J. Jack Halberstam
• Frantz Fanon
• Tim Wise
• bell hooks
• Janelle Monae & Erykah Badu
• Angela Davis
• Susan Stryker
• June Jordan &
• Audre Lorde

I am pulling primarily from only a couple of the above with the addition of a few other things I might find in research. We shall see how it goes. I really want it to be clear, and productive, not only a rant. But the rage will most certainly be there. There's no hiding that. I just want it to be cogent, thought provoking, and empowering. I'm working on it.

And so the story goes

5.

I feel a lot better than I felt at the beginning of this blog post. I'm happy to get most of the weight off of my back, hopefully this will allow more clarity with the other writing I am working on.

In the end everything I do is representative of all that I am

6.

Here's my favorite part, where I present lyrics that have really be influential to me and/or cannot get out of my head! Since I have been listening to Janelle Monae & Erykah Badu on repeat everyday lately, I am going to present a chunk of that (the chunk that is on repeat in my head) paired with some inspiring words from June Jordan (that is also all up in my headspace).

"I asked a question like this
"Are we a lost generation of our people?"
Add us to equations but they'll never make us equal.
She who writes the movie owns the script and the sequel.
So why ain't the stealing of my rights made illegal?
They keep us underground working hard for the greedy,
But when it's time pay they turn around and call us needy.
My crown too heavy like the Queen Nefertiti
Gimme back my pyramid, I'm trying to free Kansas City.

Mixing masterminds like your name Bernie Grundman.
Well I'mma keep leading like a young Harriet Tubman
You can take my wings but I'm still goin' fly
And even when you edit me the booty don't lie
Yeah keep singing, I'mma keep writing songs
I'm tired of Marvin asking me, "What's Going On?
March to the streets 'cuz I'm willing and I'm able
Categorize me, I defy every label
And while you're selling dope, we're gonna keep selling hope
We rising up now, you gotta deal you gotta cope
Will you be electric sheep?
Electric ladies, will you sleep?
Or will you preach?"

-Q.U.E.E.N. By Janelle Monae Featuring Erykah Badu (lyrics retrieved from rapgenius.com)

"...I am the history of rape   
I am the history of the rejection of who I am   
I am the history of the terrorized incarceration of   
myself...

...I have been raped   

be-

cause I have been wrong the wrong sex the wrong age   

the wrong skin the wrong nose the wrong hair the   

wrong need the wrong dream the wrong geographic   

the wrong sartorial I   

I have been the meaning of rape   

I have been the problem everyone seeks to   

eliminate by forced   

penetration with or without the evidence of slime and/   

but let this be unmistakable this poem   

is not consent I do not consent   

to my mother to my father to the teachers to   

the F.B.I. to South Africa to Bedford-Stuy   

to Park Avenue to American Airlines to the hardon   

idlers on the corners to the sneaky creeps in   

cars   

I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name

My name is my own my own my own   

and I can’t tell you who the hell set things up like this

but I can tell you that from now on my resistance   

my simple and daily and nightly self-determination   

may very well cost you your life."

-Excerpt From "A Poem About My Rights" by June Jordan (This and more found at poetryfoundation.org)

Thanks for reading, it felt good to vent. 

Come back now, ya here!?!

-M. Desicus

The Struggle: My Sanity or The Perpetuation of the System. Either way, I am Falling Through the Cracks.

Welcome.

This isn't what I counted on. This isn't what I thought it'd be; the fantasy is dead... and long forgotten.

And so lies the hopes and dreams that I once had in a program that I was a part of. All I can do now is try and parse how I am coping. A series of emotions washed over me initially

• Rage
• Anger
• Anxiety

Followed by a period of

• Grief
• Resentment
• Melancholy

Which now have begun to shift to more ambivalent feelings of

• Happiness
• Apathy
• Disgust

I want to explain exactly how this last academic year has REALLY hurt and discouraged me, but at this point, I really don't have the words... In the words of Jordan Peele, "Alright; I'll give it a shot."

September:

This isn't real. This is what is considered Theory?

Why can't I write the way they want me to?

What is this program about anyway?

October:

COMMUTING SUCKS...

November:

How many loans did I take out for this?

I don't even think I learned anything and I am supposed to WRITE 

about the themes and subjects I was supposed to master?!

December:

Break == Denial

January:

I don't understand why I am still here.

February:

I shouldn't still be here.

I must not understand what this program is about,

but either way, I don't want to be here anymore.

March:

Commuting is what is getting in the way of success. 

If I just push through this hump in the road, I can make it

April:

Finals? What finals?

May:

DONE. NOT DOING THIS ANYMORE. 

In all seriousness, the decision that I had to make to leave the grad program that I was in definitely did not come easy. This was a long treacherous journey for me, where I honestly didn't know if I was simply extremely biased against the program, or why it was not a good fit for me to begin with. I am sure I will discuss this at length in the future, but for now, I simply had to get that out of my head and off of my back. Hopefully this very difficult choice will lead to something more fitting to my aims and goals in life. Hopefully it will lead to something more fulfilling and rewarding than the THOUSANDS of dollars of loan money I took out for a seemingly wasted year (at least on paper). Thousands of dollars that I paid (will be paying back) to be emotionally hurt, intellectually discouraged and confused, to say in the very least. Cheers to change. Cheers to the future.

What else is going on?

Love:

This is ALWAYS a tricky subject for me, as I am pretty flighty. I feel like I am constantly in love and craving newness all simultaneously. This does not tent to play out that well practically, but I really can't complain currently. My birthday is RIGHT around the corner, so we shall see what kind of spice comes of that!

Money/Job:

Whelp, my first job ended May 1st, so I am working part time currently looking for a second part time job. First job was part of the shitty year, and I don't think I should get into that right now, at least until I am calmed and focused my rage a little bit. So, I REALLY REALLY need money, and am looking for a second part time, especially going into the grad school application season once more (SO much money will be spent). 

Physical Health:

I pretty fat and happy! I've just started to run and blade again (weather has been a HUGE instigator for that) and I am loving the sun. My arthritis has SEVERELY messed with the joints in my arms (primarily my left elbow joint area) and I am hoping that the juicing I am about to start helps this get better... the LAST thing that I want to do is take medicine. We shall see how that goes.

Emotional/Mental health:

As the crazy academic year has just come to an end, my brain is PRETTY drained. I am going to try and decompress, get used to the workflow, then I will try and focus on my writing (on all forms of my writing that is). I am really excited to put together an article for the newest porn studies journal, so I can't wait for things to chill a bit more so that I can get into a good headspace to write in. (hopefully soon). Oh yeah, finally checked out this cool (and cheap) yoga spot (for my arthritis)... probably gonna start doing yoga as well. I'm not kidding. This place serves TEA REX TEA Y'ALL. yum, yum, YUMMY! Anywhozles, maybe you could check them out here, I mean, if you want...

Until next time, here's my FAVE part. DUDE (in the gender neutral sense of the term). This song has been ALL UP IN my head since it came OUT. This song has been helping me get through the rough days, and has really helped me to get hyped on the good ones:


"Girl, this is crazy
Let me tell you

[Verse 1: Janelle Monae]

I can't believe all of the things they say about me
Walk in the room they throwing shade left to right
They be like, "Ooh, she serving face"
And I just tell 'em cut me up and get down
They call us dirty cause we break all your rules down
And we just came to act a fool, is that all right?
(Girl, that's alright)
They be like, "Ooh, let them eat cake."
But we eat wings and throw them bones on the ground

[Hook]

Am I a freak for dancing around?
Am I a freak for getting down?
I'm cutting up, don't cut me down
Yeah I wanna be, wanna be Queen

[Verse 2]

Is it peculiar that she twerk in the mirror?
And am I weird to dance alone late at night?
And is it true we're all insane?
And I just tell 'em, "No we ain't" and get down

I heard this life is just a play with no rehearsal
I wonder will this be my final act tonight
And tell me what's the price of fame?
Am I a sinner with my skirt on the ground?

[Verse 3]

Hey brother can you save my soul from the devil?
Say is it weird to like the way she wear her tights?
And is it rude to wear my shades?
Am I a freak because I love watching Mary? (Maybe)

Hey sister am I good enough for your heaven?
Say will your God accept me in my black and white?
Will he approve the way I'm made?
Or should I reprogram the programming
Get down?

[Spoken Word]

Even if it makes others uncomfortable
I wanna love who I am
Even if it makes other uncomfortable
I will love who I am

[Breakdown: Erykah Badu]

Dance 'til the break of dawn
Don't mean a thing, so duh
I can't take it no more
Baby, me and tuxedo crew
Pharaohs, it ain't my tomb
Crazy in the black and white
We got the drums so tight
Baby, here comes the freedom songToo strong we moving on
Baby this melody
Will show you another way
Been 'droids for far too long
Come home and sing your song
But you gotta testify
Because the booty don't lie

No, no, the booty don't lie
Oh no, the booty don't lie
[Verse 4: Janelle Monae]

Yeah
Yeah, let's flip it
I don't think they understand what I'm trying to say

I asked a question like this
"Are we a lost generation of our people?
Add us to equations but they'll never make us equal.
She who writes the movie owns the script and the sequel.
So why ain't the stealing of my rights made illegal?
They keep us underground working hard for the greedy,
But when it's time pay they turn around and call us needy.
My crown too heavy like the Queen Nefertiti
Gimme back my pyramid, I'm trying to free Kansas City.
Mixing masterminds like your name Bernie Grundman.
Well I'mma keep leading like a young Harriet Tubman
You can take my wings but I'm still goin' fly
And even when you edit me the booty don't lie
Yeah, keep singing and I'mma keep writing songs
I'm tired of Marvin asking me, "What's Going On?
March to the streets 'cuz I'm willing and I'm able
Categorize me, I defy every label
And while you're selling dope, we're gonna keep selling hope
We rising up now, you gotta deal you gotta cope
Will you be electric sheep?
Electric ladies, will you sleep?
Or will you preach?"

-"Q.U.E.E.N." by Janelle Monae Featuring Erykah Badu. (Lyrics found on rapgenius.com) 

Actually; if you have not heard or seen this song/video, PLEASE; do yourself this favor.

XoXo,
-M. Desicus

As If Being Raped Wasn't Enough, Let us Further Penalize: Jumbled Up Thoughts on Rape, Racism, Life, and Current Events.

Every time I try and write, I become frozen. Why? There are SO many feelings, emotions, and issues I need to process, all the while, my brain is compelling me to write. Alright brain. Here we go...

RAPE.

I am compelled to write about this, not only because of my own history involving this, but because I came across an article discussing how a rape victim might possibly be expelled, or be given some sort of disciplinary action for 'intimidating their offender.' Immediately, I didn't think this was real, then I remembered the society I am a part of. I was JUST talking about the rhetoric of rape, and the consequences of this on the victims and the agressors. Every time I try to write about rape, sexual abuse, and molestation, I digress rather quickly, since I am so emotionally connected to it. But it is completely asinine that this victim is being PROSECUTED. They were in a sexually abusive relationship (which is being used against her), was depressed, and attempted suicide (which is being used against her). Wait, did they not note that SHE WAS RAPED? REPEATEDLY? Also VERBALLY ABUSED? She didn't even out her abuser. Yet, she is being investigated for potential charges?! I still need to think on these things and develop a more cogent perspective on this thing. In general. Here is the article. Here's the petition.

RACISM.

"Why hire a black model when you can just paint a white one?" This doesn't make sense. Seriously? This happens and will continue to happen unless more people take a stand against this. White models being coated in bronzer and is shown as black. WTF. Wow. Why hire black anything for that matter? Why don't we just get rid of all postions for people of color, and paint white people, and put them into the roles of 'other'? It's not like there are no aspiring/working black/women of color models around to do a spread for a damn magazine entitled, "AFRICAN QUEEN". What the eff is Black history month anyway? People still aren't aware of pioneers who forged and fought against bigotry, hate, and inequality. Some don't even know MLK Jr./ Malcolm X/Angela Davis. So, how are we even going to START a conversation about past AND current progressions among the less 'visible' people of color? People have said, "What's the use of having black history month?" and that we should do away with it because it's not like we have a white history month. Yes, I understand this argument but NO. Just NO. We haven't gotten to a point where we can foreseeably integrate black history into all levels of our system of education and of our society. Although that is a wonderful ideal, it is simply that, an IDEAL. Black history month is something that used to be heavily celebrated and acknowledged, but, throughout the years, has become less and less important and visible. No, it's not because we have arrived to equality and social justice, it's because somehow the social/political/economical 'concessions' we have taken, has begun to render us complacent. This complacency is beginning to perpetuate complicity to this flawed and divisive system. We still have stuff like this model bs happening, this is so disconcerting. I still need time to think and develop something more than rage on this topic, but here is the article.

ME.

I'm vexed by the society I call 'home'. I am scared for the future of my passion in philosophy and women's & gender studies. I am nervous about my health and well being. I am sad and confused about the state of affairs regarding my education and potential to progress beyond my MA. All the while, people are being raped, and deliberately discriminated against, and I am feeling completely low, and almost powerless as far as a progressive step. Well, at the very least I'll write. No one can take my words from me (yet). You never know though, at the rate our society is regressing, that might be up for claims soon enough.

FINALE.

Although it is tough for me to find any lyric or words that inspire, I found this:

"Wall, chilern,
whar dar is so much racket
dar must be somethin' out o' kilter.
I tink dat 'twixt de nigger of de Souf
and de womin at de Norf,
all talkin' 'bout rights,
de white men will be in a fix pretty soon.
But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout?

Dat man ober dar say
dat womin needs to be helped into carriages,
and lifted ober ditches,
and to hab de best place everywhar.
Nobody eber halps me into carriages,
or ober mudpuddles,
or gibs me any best place!
And ar'n't I a woman?

Look at me!
Look at my arm!
I have ploughed,
and planted,
and gathered into barns,
and no man could head me!
And ar'n't I a woman?

I could work as much
and eat as much as a man --
when I could get it --
and bear de lash as well!
And ar'n't' I a woman?

I have borne thirteen chilern,
and seen 'em mos' all sold off to slavery,
and when I cried out with my mother's grief,
none but Jesus heard me!
And ar'n't I a woman?

Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de head;
what dis dey call it?
'Intellect,'
(whispered someone near).
Dat's it, honey.
What's dat got to do wid womin's rights
or nigger's rights?
If my cup won't hold but a pint,
and yourn holds a quart,
wouldn't ye be mean
not to let me have my little half-measure full?

Den dat little man in black dar,
he say women can't have as much rights as men,
'cause Christ wan't a woman!
Whar did your Christ come from?
Whar did your Christ come from?
From God and a woman!
Man had nothin' to do wid Him.

If de fust woman God ever made
was strong enough to turn de world upside down
all alone,
dese women togedder ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again!
And now dey is asking to do it,
de men better let 'em.

Bleeged to ye for hearin' on me,
and now ole Sojourner
han't got nothin' more to say.'"

Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth

I can almost hear her speaking. This at least encourages me to use my voice, to use my words in ways that make visible these injustices. I will attempt to come back to these thoughts once more, once I have given myself the time and space to think on these things. I thank you for reading this post of my initial responses to seriously ridiculous situations. 

Ciao,

-M. Desicus

Everyone Grieves Differently.

This blog is a reflection.

Body

"Everyone grieves differently," I read yesterday. I am trying to understand. How do I grieve for myself? For you? For the failure of one of the longest standing relationships in my life? Do I have the right to grieve? I became the bearer of bad news and the arbiter of sorrow in the matter of a moment. I'm stuck in this feeling of sadness and angst. I don't know at this point if I can look at you, talk to you. Every time I see you interacting with friends, I become bitter, annoyed, and wonder if this is how you grieve? I didn't want to sleep, though I was exhausted. I awoke and felt uneasy. I thought of you. I thought of our progression. I wondered what you were doing as I was reflecting on these things. Yeah, I guess you're right in presuming that I would be relieved, but this is not a relieving subject or process at this point. I know this is going to upset a lot of people in my family and will devastate my mother. How she loves you, us. Even when I had heart-to-heart conversations with her about how badly I felt things were going, she never lost faith and was more determined than ever for us to make it work. I am plagued with introspective thoughts like, what does it mean that once we were hitched things went downhill? What does it mean that I didn't have the vigilance to remain steadfast during the most trying times? Yes, there were signs, red flags galore. But there was also love. Deep, passionate, toxic, manic-depressive love. A love that permeated the brain and rendered me incapable of being. I became complacent in my complicity. The patterns of fighting and making up became as normal as breathing. There were these thoughts of doubt leading to the nuptials, but I resisted them and thought it'd work itself out. The outpouring of love and support from people we held so dear really made me feel I made the right decision.
So, we are here now. This is a different place and feeling than yesterday at this time. It hurts to look at pictures of us, it hurts to look at pictures you've taken. Everything around me reminds me of your love. I have to keep explicitly telling myself this is for the best. For both of us. Maybe you are grieving. I have no clue. I am lamenting and mourning the end of en era in my life and sometimes it looks like you are happier now than ever. It just happened. The pain runs deep. I had many cathartic cries in the last 24 hours, my brain attempting to detoxify my heart. I want you to know you helped me make this decision. No, I don't mean that in the emo, bitter way. I mean, you really allowed me the space and time to really think, while being there for me whenever I needed you. I believe your friendship is what makes this dissolution THAT much harder. You are so smart, inquisitive, perceptive, and passionate for life. Your loyalty knows no bounds. These things I fell in love with those years ago, these things that unfortunately couldn't help salvage any romantic love.
There's a long road to mending the heart and mind after such a relationship, and grieving I suppose is a part of it. You changed my life, you challenged me, and for that I will be forever grateful. I hope your grieving period is productive, I'm figuring out how to handle mine. But like you said, everyone grieves differently.

Finale

This song has been in my heart and on my mind recently.

"Words are flowing out like 
Endless rain into a paper cup
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe.
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
Are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing and caressing me.

Jai Guru Deva. Om
Nothing's gonna change my world

Images of broken light, which 
Dance before me like a million eyes,
They call me on and on across the universe.
Thoughts meander like a 
Restless wind inside a letter box
They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe.

Jai Guru Deva. Om
Nothing's gonna change my world

Sounds of laughter, shades of life
Are ringing through my opened ears 
Inciting and inviting me.
Limitless undying love, which
Shines around me like a million suns,
It calls me on and on across the universe

Jai Guru Deva."

-Across the Universe, The Beatles

-M. Desicus

Those Times When I Can't Focus Because I'm Thinking Too HARD.

The reason I am writing is because I cannot focus on anything I am supposed to be doing today. I'm all up in my head and I need to clear my mind so I can use my brain. So, without further ado...

Hi

As it is the eve of the anniversary of my dad's death, I realize now that I need to take some time to acknowledge it, think on it, and reconcile my mind and heart. So, my dad died about 6 years ago tomorrow and I still feel like I need to call him in order to settle some things in my heart. My dad was a lot to me in my life. He provided a really unique perspective as to what it means to be a dad. It's really weird that I was a daddy's girl since he wasn't necessarily present in my childhood. All that motivated me was the want to make my dad happy and proud. I would watch television with him after dinner, I'd eat the exact same foods as he did, I drank the same juice as he did. I just wanted him to find favor in me. Not to seem emo, but I guess my best wasn't good enough. That was the dynamic of our relationship. I always thought I wanted to be like my father, until I hit adulthood and realized I did inherit some of his traits. I can't believe that I wanted to be like him. Some of the inner turmoil I face is rooted in the toxic relationship I had with him growing up. Pretending, romanticizing the perfect father/daughter relationship, all the while he wasn't there. I'd probably actually see him for about however long it took him to drive me from school to either a friend's house or my nana's place, and at the end of the night when he picked me up from wherever he dropped me off until I was in bed for the night. But those moments were some of the BEST moments of my childhood to me, until I realized how little that time actually was. The start of the year of his death was very distressful and was loaded with horrible events and uncertainty. I knew that I was going to have to wait, just a little while, before I confronted my dad about my hurt and pain. I guess I waited too long.

Moving Right Along

In other news, my life as I know it right now is going relatively smoothly as I enjoy chaos. I am falling into sync with work at UNCG, and I think I have found my area of specialization, community outreach. No, I am not referring to soup kitchens, and clothing drives (although I am NOT hating on that and think those are noble causes to back), I am talking about ACTIVISM. I am going to do what I can to get our program active with the community and with each other. I am at the very initial stages of sleuthing. However, I want to be active in LGBTQI communities, with an emphasis on trans advocacy. I would like to create a place of potentiality, a place where things can happen and are happening, where articles are being written, parties happen. I want our program to bridge the gap between academic and non-academic LGBTQI spaces. I have hope.

"Perfect Relationships"

Nothing is EVER going to be perfect, right? I am learning that every day. Don't let that last statement fool you into thinking that I am desperately unhappy or anything, but things are always "up in the air" so to speak currently. There is a huge level of uncertainty as it relates to issues involving my heart, though there is also EXTREME CLARITY. I can't help but attribute it to my astrological sign (Gemini) ;) it's like I have constant inner turmoil, though I wouldn't have it ANY other way. Okay, for those of you who are all like, "Really, Desi? You 'can't help but attribute it to your SIGN?'" No, I am not really contributing it to my sign, it was a seemingly coloquial anecdote used to cover the fact that I don't actually know exactly why I am so conflicted all the time... Let's just end this thought here.

In Conclusion

This is a short blog. Why? BECAUSE I AM SO CONFLICTED. I do feel a little better now that I've written, but it didn't 'do' what I was intending it to. Oh well. All is well that ends well I presume.

Now for my Favorite Part

The last segment of my blog where I post lyrics that speak to me. All day this has been BLARING in my mind:

"I once knew a girl

In the years of my youth
With eyes like the summer
All beauty and truth
In the morning I fled
Left a note and it read
Someday you will be loved.

I cannot pretend that I felt any regret
Cause each broken heart will eventually mend
As the blood runs red down the needle and thread
Someday you will be loved

You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved

You may feel alone when you're falling asleep
And everytime tears roll down your cheeks
But I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet
Someday you will be loved

You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved

You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved
Someday you will be loved"

-Someday You Will Be Loved, by Death Cab For Cutie

This song makes me think of my dad. Not in a creepy way or anything, but it makes me think that he'd say something like this to me, to help me cope with the loss of my parent. I love you papa. You'll always be my Lion King.

Until Next Time, 

-M. Desicus

And I Know How I Feel...

Introduction

So, I've decided that in the spirit of the holiday season, I would structure this blog to be somewhat of a Festivus themed entry, in the sense that I will air most of my grievances in the most tactful and anonymous way that I can.

1

This crazy little thing called love. What does it mean? In my short life, I have had SO many different contexts, definitions, and relational explanations thrown at me regarding the meaning of this term. There's like at least 10 different types of love that comes up on google search, this frickin' society is not doing a good job at being concise about these things. I suppose that love is a more individual journey, where over time, one becomes more attuned to their notions of the types of love they will have in their lifetime, and become happy with that... the Gemini in me just isn't satisfied with this. I don't know that I'll ever be solid on what the eff this love thing is. All of this is to say my heart hurts, I am sad and disgusted. I'm tired of saving face, and saying everything is fine. IT ISN'T. I am seemingly hapless with only one sliver of light guiding me through this cavernous decline. The worst part of this whole thing is that over the past months of this decline, that I have been having to silence my raw feelings in order to protect the feelings of those around me. As a thinker and a writer, that is probably the single most difficult thing that I have had to do. I consider myself to be a pretty compassionate and patient person, but I am on the brink of demise and I need to air it so I don't have to BEAR it any longer. Even though I am not being specific with the deets, this is something that needed to be written. I needed to release this. I used to be naive and used to think as long as I loved you, I'm okay with anything you may throw at me. But because of you, I know what it is to grieve, I know what it is to cry, and I know how it feels to feel, to FEEL... I'm just going to leave the rest of this thought alone, for now.

2

I am so stuck in this rut of complicity and complacency. I was recently reading through my old journals trying to catalogue these past few months, and those are two of the themes that kept creeping up. I believe that I need to take the advice of a dear friend and really take hold of my life, for my own sake, and for the sake of those who care for me (literally, figuratively, and emotionally). The only thing in my way seems to be me. You see, I just realized that I had been depressed over the last long while, and was simply going through the motions of life, (and no, this is not about to turn into an infomercial) and now that I have had a little time to analyze things (not long enough) I know I need to allow time and space for myself to heal. Unfortunately, as a poor graduate student, I do not have the luxury of time, or space, so this blog will have to do. As far as things I will do, I am going to move in with some amazing people to cut down on living expenses, and get a second job so that I will hopefully not have to stress AS much when the end of semester/year poorness rears its ugly head. I know, TMI, but you are the one who chose to read this.

3

Finally, I am taking a lot more courses next semester than I did this semester, and am scared as I am also lopping a second job on top of things. I need to get OUT of this program and into a Ph.D program in Philosophy already (which is why I am taking all the courses I am), so that I can actually be moving toward my career goal and passion in life! I officially dub this part of my life 'The Wonder Years'. Not only am I referencing the old TV show, but referencing my agonizingly mundane, yet difficult to bear emotional and financial times that I will be having over the next few years. I feel like I'm going through adolescence again, sans the acne. I have even come to acquire a new title, generated facetiously, though it has begun to stick. I'm still playing around with it, deciding for myself when it is appropriate to use it and when it isn't.

4

As for my favorite part of this blog, lyrics. I have no lyrics this time, though I have some quotes from one of my FAVORITE books, The Woman Destroyed, by Simone de Beauvoir:

"As for me, I've lost my own image. I did not look at it often; but it was there, in the 

background... A straightforward, genuine, "authentic" 

woman, with out mean-mindedness, uncompromising, but at the same time

understanding, indulgent, sensitive, deeply feeling, intensely aware of things and of 

people, passionately devoted to those she loved and creating happiness for them. A fine 

life, serene, full, "harmonious." It is dark: I cannot see myself anymore. And what do the 

others see? Maybe something hideous."

This spoke to me as I was writing and thinking of what I would end this blog with. It is definitely relevant to what I am going through currently, although at the same time in the words of Simone, "...What an odd thing a diary is: the things you omit are more important than those you put in..."

Ciao,

-Madam Desicus