Lioness Rising.

A snowflake
Spiralling down, falling over its masses while gently, tipping each out of place
As it makes it way down through to the bottom
As that 9 billionth flake it hit weak as it is, joins in
An avalanche, begins
All it ever took was a snowflake and that child downhill never did see it coming.
Unaware of the natural phenomenon of constant change taking place above he
Was busy skiing, who cares about the snow while you’re on it
Who cares about the little things that don’t matter... till they do
Truth is, poco a poco, little snowflakes of chances become big revolutions; avalanches.

A lady
Downright down on herself because the pieces just weren’t connecting
Or so she thinks as she reaches out to whoever would listen
Whispering embarrassing thoughts that had claimed her mind lately
A recognition surfaces
Never did take more than an outreach though almost deterred by fear of seeming insane.
That outreach of a freefall into some strangers’ hands because of some overwhelming thoughts
After sending an email blinding asking for help and some sort of guidance...in the dark,
Now, she has grown to have mad respect for intuitions, chances, and grace

In this century,
As the age of Aquarius concludes itself and we move into the Picerean times
I cannot help but feel nauseous, scared and uncertain
Feeling like the waterwaves have carried me and I am enthralled by the strength of it all
A state of uncertainty
As the world expects one thing and I too, accepts its control of me
I begin to see discrepancies between what I am, what I will and want to be
I begin to realize that my destiny isn’t as monotonous as what I am surrounded by
Slowly, I fall into an ambiguous state of fear for what is to become of this being

Serendipity,
An enlightenment in the form of a feeling that circled my temples
One that resettled my heart to its usual spot in my chest cavity
Finally, it can stop beating as if it wanted to exit this body
My heart is staying
I realize that this isn’t just me. I am not alone and neither will I be
There are other females, my age, and they too, are feeling thesame
As if these times need to be made over because they just don’t fit
Someday, the cookies will crumble just how we choose to orchestrate it...with love, and care

Equality,
A snowflake at age 6 of me saying no to feminine mind slavery; my avalanche had started
If I do not have children, I am sure that that would not make me unworthy of that four letter word
And if I didn’t choose to be a grain of rice in a white man’s plate, I would still be human
I’ll be the full plate of meal.
Tilapia fish and bokoto to boot because you see, in my mother’s land where I am meant to be, we do food like it should be
Nitoriwipe, emi ni omo oloke to mokee gun and climb I shall because I was born to shine
Edi ile ahun ni mi... if I did not walk the path that I choose, I would not be my mother’s daughter
That woman had a drive with a kick worse than these horsepowered rides
Maybe, this avalanche started before me... I truly am my mother’s daughter and she, her’s.


"...
You can call me by my name, I am ready to roll
Once the rules remain thesame, How the story's been told
Call me anytime, never cop out
Lioness is on the rise, dont you ever have doubt..."


Lioness rising,
I’d be unfair not to warn you of this tsuna-me coming
Carrying with me all that weight of guilt, doubt and fear of angering
Yes, it may seem wrong but sometimes we live right too long to realize we really should have left
I am retracing my steps to end up where I am meant to be.
This lion climbs
The Queen said it best so you may go ahead
Call me by myname as I begin to roll
And am not alone in this so climb we shall
You just picture it... a pack of lionesses, roaring on some hill
In our land, where we really, should be
Picture that, and you here that sound in the background?
Thats me singing our theme music roaring...



"...You can call me by my name, I am ready to roll
Once the rules remain thesame, How the story's been told
Call me anytime, never cop out
Lioness is on the rise, dont you ever have doubt..."







9:25am December, 29, 2010 (edited, Januray, 1, 2011 @ 0227h)
Re: convos with Tina Peperempe and Duuni of AZ

....and Repeat!

Remember that day when i played you alist of haydin’s songs and
You told me that onestood out to you?
You said you’d wondered if that song “I cant stop loving you” could be us someday and
I had a mini jolt in my mind.
It was truth, calling me to it
Urging me gently, to keep abreast of these words as
Maybe, maybe, they might mean something
I know this now, because of course, my 4 finally met its zero to perfect my vision
Somehow, I see clearly now.

You too, are death scared aren’t you?
Afraid, mate?

The moment it starts, it begins to end and the slope I once spoke of, is quite slippery, as you remind me today
Even when you said you might stay, you really were running ‘round a circle that was to get you back to where you started in time to start loving someone new and lose, yet again
But its the thrill of the ride that we chase. Its the cycle, so to find it, is to have

Loved and lost for so long, the two seem mutually compatible and there you have got your compatibility on which you build the bond you need.
Love, dream, lose, reminisce and repeat till you get enough to crash, cry, misery as you tell yourself you’d know better next time... and repeat
Love, dream, lose reminisce and I know only too well about this whole thing
Love, dream, lose reminisce.
And God forbid that one time when we get to love and dream and we get stuck at this unfamiliar junction of actually embracing love because THEN! THEN we know that that isn’t right because really, it cant possibly be as good as it gets.
God forbid you fall in love, because there MUST be somebody, ANYBODY out there better for us than this one person we’re dreaming with so best we- test it, reassess it, resist it and accept no other conclusiokn that says it just may be it because we don’t know how to deal with anything we don’t know how to lose... hop skip jump, shake it off, tuck it in all the wrong places hell, rob a bank if we must because somehow, we MUST lose it.... then reminisce in misery, and repeat.

Naughty Nothings

I want to tell you a few things.
Whisper sweet naughty nothings into your ears to make you ...
Feel me.
Get this bulky mass of appreciation out delivered from me to you so you...
You feel me?
I want to tell you a few things.
So easy to forget though you I must say, seem unforgettable. Not that I’ve tried, but hey!
Feel me.
I’d like to think I know a thing or two about worthy and if you were sized, you’d be...
Supreme.
I want to tell you a few things. Quite alot of things that aren’t easy to release because you know history teaches some harsh lessons.
After a while, naivety slithers out your life as you realize that people, can sometimes, have too much pride and people, can too often, forget how to be truthful.
May I say, sir...your humility makes you shine?
Fake it if it may be so and really, I say fake it if you must because sometimes, you’ve got to fake it to real it and who is to blame you for trying?
May I say, sir... your humility blinds my eyes?
I pick things out of your words that I don’t want to but I am sorry, I’m just trying to make certain you are real.
I want to tell you a few other things.
About how I get scared that you’d be human and when you hear it, you’d get human.
Pride, shame, guilt inter-fears of the possibilities that could be shared.
And as much as I know you are nothing BUT human, I also know that I don’t want you to be...
Feel me?
May I say sir, ... you are my latest fear?
You replace the giddiness that school brings, with thoughts of your words n... mannerisms.
And no, I am not complaining.
I am just saying... that I would like to tell you a few other things.
But you really are human, aren’t you?
Its difficult for a dreamy mind to excuse human actions but who am I not to get this?
Hey, if I may say sir, you really truly are...my latest urge.

Beauty is.

I have blemishes on my skin
Nothin photo shop cant fix
And if photoshop could be real enough to be worn
Well, then I guess I could photoshop me some wear.

Make believe am pretty to make some up to my face
Make believe the skintone is well uniformed
So much so that it just glows

Matted, yet glows.

I'd draw myself an eyebrow that arched towards the sky and curved back
As if made a short visit to the stars
Said "hi" and bounced back
Make some stardust right under those so it'd look as if my bones were perfectly shaped.
Nothing like perfectly shape'd cheekbones to look as though
They were ornaments beautifully perched on my face
My skin would have no flaw...
Oh well, maybe a dimple or two but hey!
That would only make me look more beautiful.

Photoshop aint real though... so makeup it is.
Mac'it'up, Marykay till I look like the acceptable form of me.

Because it is a war out there, and aint nobody looking to get caught off guard.
Every step outside is a run into the battlefield and you want to give yourself a figting chance.

Your lipgloss better pop twice cuz once wont cut it.
Do the red lipstick thing! Hey... i hear shimmer lids are in.

Somedays when I get back from the club, I dont want to take my makeup off.
I look so good... I dont want to go back.

Truth is, I was never born with makeup and neither was I born with airbrush...
Somewhere along the way the idea that I was far from perfect got was allowed to settle in my mind.
To leave home without makeup is to leave home without armour.

Till this day though, I still refuse to edit my pictures out of shame.
Let it be known that I know where am from though sometimes, my memory sucks.

I am from a land where beauty resides in things unforseen, things seen, things perceiveable and short there of.
Where beauty is... is!
Beauty is!
It just is.
A place where beauty isnt what you want it to be, it is what it is and what that is, is.
Beauty lives within the air and in the soil it runs on, the hills it circles and the sky it breathes... so how dare i not be enough to face this battle?

Few months ago, I found myself caught off guard. I was on a trip and to be honest, I was scared shitless to realize that I had not my makeup with me.
My false belief in my beauty challenged my pride and there I was, in conflict.
Too proud to admit that I needed makeup, too afraid to deny that I didnt.
Do you see the dillema I was in?

Needless to say, I stepped out into that battlefield and well... the rest is history.

As I stepped out into this war the sun reflected off my glow. I heard a glisten roar as I shaded my eyes with these slender dark fingers of mine.It casted on my face found refuge in my skin it simply blended in and asked to be hidden. I laughed at the thought of that... all with my 34 teeth.
I heard someone tell me that I really neeeded to get my supranumeray teeth removed and well,as I said...this truly was a battle field and since photoshop couldnt save me then, I figured I`d best be ready to save myself.
Ego. Prrriiideeee is one powerful thing.
But really, I am yet to find a good reason to remove my teeth.
So there I was wondering what to do with these words when my thoughts faded into nothing.
Really, that is all it was. It really was nothing.
This person who seemed to care so much about the tools with which I masticate. Talk about minding my beez. Wonder if he'd care to comment on my bowels too since well... he seems to give a shit.

So with the gleem of my skin and this funny dude who wanted to personally assist me in knowing enough of my business... really, there was not much to war.

There I was fumbling for the guns that were to be the words flowing from the lips with which I'd `pow`pow` the world,...eventualy they'd fall in love with me, through my lips.

But... in between the many people who walked past me, unaware and the few who seemed to stare in inquisition, I realized that I had ran out of battles to fight.

Quite disenchanting to realize that there really was no war worse than the one within me.

There I was, outside, naked. Without arms, and no one even seemed to care.
Finally
I
was
free.

Puddles need love too!

Autumn evening after its rained.
When golden leaves meet the greens broken off branches by waterdrops
After the sun has sipped off some of the rain and outside isnt yet droned in darkness.
Just then.
Before my people have gotten up to rush briskly to their daily chores.
In between the late rush and the morning one...

Lies a time so supreme, it need not boast it.

I and my little friend love doing our walks,
watching the wet leaves glue themselves lazily to the puddles that hold them.

I like watching these.
And hopping over these.
And in some cases,
when no one is looking,
I'd jump right up, and land myself right in one of these puddles.

And I know its silly,
Even my little doggy walk-friend looks up at me funny as if to say
"you need to grow up, you silly goose!"
but why would I want to hop over a puddle,
when it was just there, asking,...pleading...begging me, to relish in its beauty!
I heard it say to me "puddles need love too" lol


I dont know what puddles are for, really.
But I like to use them as reminders
that I have feet, I have freedom, and I have life.


Matter of fact, I want to go outside to do a puddle search right this minute!

All hail this once-married-woman!

My first husband was a funny one. He had some thiefing tendencies but I was too naive to have integrity. I accepted the things he stole for me and well, that ended eventually.

You want to point fingers at me? Sit in your little circle and discuss me? Must be "Lets fix MissThang day". Today, you have decided to incur all your time and energy on me... you have gathered to spend your time Talking, making major suggestions about what I should do to fix me! Ha!

What a joke!

I TOO was married!

Flashing your hardly-blinging-by-some-sot-of-force-ring, telling me what it is like to be committed to he...

Little do you know that you are no better than I am.

I TOO was married!

My second hubby (or may have been my first, was it?) didmt last that long for sake of wasting too much of my energy, I made a quick run for it. Didnt look back, didnt cry, didnt...nothing.

But you wanna tell me about marriage!

"TIME's A TICKING"
"FIND A GOOD MAN QUICK"
Wanna tell me all this shit 'bout biological clock bullshit!

YOU FOOL!

If only you knew that we all get married!
And unmarried, and remarried, and redo the whole process 10x over!

We've all BEEN married! Open your eyes and look around you!

We all have done it, its nothing major.
You want to carry it on your silly rusty pedastle, you fool!

I was married to he, he to me. We ended it.
THen to him and he to me, we ended it!
Even married her and her to me and that too, done.

We all been married. Its no big deal.

You see it all the time. 5 minute, 2 months, 4 year marriages.

Pfft! please!

I've beaten those.

I've loved and been loved for longer.
Short of having kids, signing papers, and rocking rings, they too were perfect marriages till they ended.
But isnt that what a marriage is these days?
A commitment till we decide to commit-no-more?
I too, have been married so dont tell me nothing.

She lost sanity, each time he touched her

The look on her face. Anger was not lonely there, . . . with it, stood understanding.
She didnt like my words, but she understood. Like a dog that barks to protect home, you hate the noise though you know what its for.

The look on her face. Then she said it again.

"Yes, I know he is my father. But I wish, she'd divorce him"

It all sounded strange to me. Sounded like a bittersweet feeling, without the sweet.
What would make a child want her parents parted?

She went on,
", though it would mean I would not have been born, I wish she had not married him."
And I almost responded to remind her that she would not have existed, but she didnt seem to mind.
She was a child. She spoke like a child.
I knew this. I felt the need to guide her thoughts. Help her understand; it doesnt matter what her position should be.
She should advocate and yearn for the unity of her parents, regardless how much of a bad husband he was to her mother.

"She has keloid marks on her back. Numerous, " halfway thorough tears, ", but the physical marks, are nothing compared to the emotional ones. Keloids can be covered. Her soul, cannot. You should see the way she speaks, though it is in anger, she sounds like she still wants him, "

Oh chile!

", such a strength in her sanity, but she lost sane each time he hurt her, I wish she was wdowed. He is my father, yeah I know. But she, is my mother."

I got it.

You know how they say that Jesus died for us all?
This child was willing to sacrifice it all. For one. She'd rather her mother was painfree and strong, than she had been born and her mother hurt.

I looked up to see her gaze on mine. She released her tears. No more words were spoken. I dared not attempt to convince her. Pity filled me, as she gently wiped her cheeks dry, forced a smile through red eyes, and walked out of the room.

I heard her flipflops flopping on her heels halfway down the hall,, she left me sitting there, to ponder it all.

Me, masculine.

I’d like to,
s*e*x the days out of you
Talk for hours, just to see where we’d stop
Test your boundaries,, where do you end?
What makes you quit? When do you halt?

Like a rainbow has no visible end, they say,
Pray tell me, you,
Mister, where lies your pot of gold?

Or is this it?
As I delve a little further
Talk about my forbidden stance on the natives and the slaves

And you read me, reread me
Or maybe you simply are me
In a masculine form
Or something.

You know how they say that the creator made two of each?
You just might be me, masculine.

And you read me, repeat what my mind was thinking,
Startled me as you said it
“Yeah but really, are the natives being reimbursed?”
And that started us off on something,
Off on some tangent
So much so that we forgot what we were saying
So much so that our words ceased,
We simply acted.

No one dared care about the natives
For a moment, the natives can wonder about themselves, can they not?
They can go beat drums and pow wow to the gods of their lands, say a prayer maybe; for the grass to grow.
And the slaves? Well, ye slaves passed, this is for you!
You wanted unity? Freedom was it? This is it; celebrated.

As our words made feelings
And feelings made touches
And you know what touches can do
As I do what I’d like to do
, s*e*x the days out of you.

But then there are weeks, months, years,
And eternity left in there,
We just cant seem to unravel this tangle well enough to get an absolute understanding
Curiosity kills the cat but we are no felines
So pray tell me you,
Mister, where lies our threshold?
What exactly, are we made of?
When I claw till I reach your core,
What, will I find?

Curiosity kills the cat they say;
But us? we are humans.
Curiosity, fuels this.
It IS why am here so pray tell, me-masculine;
what is the treasure that lies within your core?

Who is to say you'd be a loser too?

Birds of the same feathers they say,
But who is to say that you’d have a teeny weeny too?

Same rainbow, different day; I woudnt get so excited if I was you.
Dont you wonder why I stay far from the circle?
How on earth did you even manage to find me?
Shoo!

But hey!!! Who is to say you’d be a loser too?
You speak similar to he
Life, styled same as the person he claimed to be
And who is to say that I ever knew him?
Spoke so many lies, the truth became it.

I’d rather start with the breakup now before we startup
Start calling up your number NOW so you wont pick up
Checking up on my phone to see if you finally woke up
I’d grab a bag of Kleenex for the tears of
“WTF and to think that he wasn’t even hot to begin with!” but,
Hey! Who is to say you’d go missing too?

Black History

It is now.
This moment, this present time as I type this. Black history.

Is.

Me heading off to school or not... my grannie a bethroed child.
It is our black history. Grannie being a light skinned butcher & meat seller who gave birth to that child who later graduated and became a mother of 5 and jumped ship... for a better life for me. A dark skinned lanky me.
It is my grandfather loving for love and squashing boundaries for what is to be. It is black history he made, unbeknownst to him.

Black history is. Me.
Black history, is the movement away from everything I was, towards everything that is, and in some cases, stagnance.
Black history, is maintaining the status quo.
It is what that lady is doing rocking that weave and the other not... it just is us.
Black history, is love, and lack there of; for you and yours.
Black history, is that fist that you held up as another desires to blend in this melting pot.

"Why do we praise ourselves as blacks w it would only encourage segregation? Isnt segregation only going to darken the lines between us and promote ethnocentrism and hate?"
Black history are these questions.
Black history is everything.
It is the process of writting this, p

It is westernization. It is losing ourselves and rediscovering something else n the process. It is not knowing why we do the things we do and wondering what it is we will become when the damages are done. It is the anticipation., and hope for an end to change YET Black history IS change and whatever inspired the process.

Wondering and questioning things. Black history is the result of Nina Simone's songs' impacts on my soul as I listen to her sing...
"Sophisticated lady, I know... you miss the love you lost long ago, and when nobody is near, you cry".

Black history is the several numerous bits of diverged fights we fight... all in the name of self love.
The story of my people... from the ones unknown to Mrs Tubman and the ones that helped her get known.
The story tellers.
The story of my people. From the heros to the zeros and the significance of the zeros in helping to measure our heroes.

My people have lost alot. But see? Even that is black history.
Black history is me. And the path that was paved to make me.
It is every hit that was sustained, every lynch, every slave, every man that was not strong enough to make the trade and... it is every hate. It is every wrong judgement that man allowed to pass. It is segregation and unity.

Black history is knowing better, yet feeling lost to the system and living your life to be part of a process so that your offsprings can someday, maybe, hopefully live a little better so that their offsprings can finally eventually self actualize. Black history!
This moment. Me. My love for it and lack of it. Black history, is this.

Sexual Health Illnesses; a presentation by Tina R. and Cindy E.

Here, we get to see Tina and Cindy's presentation (some part of it anyway). There were two videos but I cant seem to find the other one!!!

I have always been interested in sexual health and sexually transmitted illneses so, their topic caught my attention. Not only that, however... you get to see this presentation that they were so good to have allowed me to tape. At the end of the presentation, I had to run, because my prof was at my booth and I was getting evaluated so... couldnt continue taping (what a shame) but at least, I got to get this. Thanks Tina and Cindy for giving the consent to have this posted on here. Merci beaucoup.

Healthfair 2010- Colorectal Cancer

^^^ Above is a clip made by Deandra Cormier and I. Its a clip for colorectal cancer awareness; a portion of the healthfair conducted by the students on March 23-2010 (yesterday). I hate the part where I put Deandra on the spot. Gowd! lol

^^^ Here is the 2nd part to our presentation. Thanks to Vaidehi for taping.


"Although colorectal cancer takes 10-15 years to develop to a terminal stage, and it is treatable 90% of the time, it still remains the 2nd leading cancer-related cause of death."

That was our message at the healthfair we presented on Colorectal cancer awareness on March 23, 2010.


In our booth, you can see we have three packs of cereal that we'd found to have high fiber cotnents (24-40% of recoomended daily intake). This is significant for our topic because having sufficient dietary fiber intake is one way to help prevent against colorectal cancer. In addition, we had preventative measures, signs and symptoms, screening methods, facts, risk factors and such informations on our board. Also included on the board were pictures of a normal colon, and several polyps (hyperplastic, adenomatous, flat etc) and one of rectal cancer. Lastly, we had a picture of the anatomy of the colon and rectum as well as a picture of an X-RAY showing a colon blockage (probably due to colon cancer) in its ascending colon. On the other side of the table (closer to where Deandra was standing), we had a TV showing clips that we had compiled from youtube. Clips included several colonoscopies (one was so ghastly, it was sad. The colon was full of cancer) including a funny one of Homer Simpson getting his colonoscopy, and one that showed the resection of some polyps. We also had a clip of the BIG COLON show; another colorectal awareness program that showcases a huge gigiantic colon (big enough to walk through it). Of course, it is synthetic, but its fun to watch ;)

Lastly, we had pamphlets that we had received from the government of Ontario's colorectal awareness program (Cancer Check), and CCAC (Colorectal Cancer Advocacy Program?). We also had pictures of bottoms (yeah, buttoms as in buttocks) that were posted on the drapes of our tables (you can see them in between where Deandra and I were standing). The butts were copied from a site by the CCAC called getyourbuttseen.ca . Also, all around the school were posters that we had posted prior to the healthfair. These posters were received from the CCAC, and were on neon papers; they said "Get your butt over here" with arrows leading to our booth. Lastly, we had blue ribbons made, These blue ribbons were given to whoever wanted them as blue is the coloor of colorectal cancer awareness and March, is the month of colorectal cancer awareness. Hey! We even had a sign there that said "March is colorectal cancer awareness month; Are you ready for your booty call?"! LOL

So needless to say, people are likely to remember our booth and they are highly likely, to be more aware of the importance of preventing and getting screened for colorectal cancer.

Health Fair 2010

Yet another craving of mine. Although I have no experience in public health, I have always wanted to be involved in it. I someday, hope to be able to develop my career in public (population) health. Looking forward to getting there!!! Here is a clip of my (and a colleague's) healthfair.


Pics coming soon...

Cemeterians

It was supposedly a riot
Or something of the sort
It was supposedly a kill
And a few hundreds more
It was supposedly a tear
Rolled...
in a hurry down a thousand faces
and though I wasnt there to see it
I sure heard.

It was supposedly pain
And wails, fears...
And the perception that informed the knowledge that well,
It'll always be here.

Its supposedly this thing
That I hear, numbs you to feel.

I dont know why we stare at you on TV
Sharing stories of me and my own
That I know, I really should know
Telling me things that I dont dare think.
I'm sorry but there's gotta be a file somewhere back there for...
"God have mercy"s
Since God is sure to send yet another begotten son to save the good, forgive the uglies and maybe if we're lucky; undo the wrongs so that no one, not one of my kins would ever be forsaken

Yes yes! I knowwww!
I know, Mr.
I heard it too.
Though you narrate it like its something new.
I'm just as bothered as you.

Hey, but the other day,
I just about made the biggest change!
I just about cried loud enough
For its echoes to make a quake.

Hey, I know, Mr.
Did you hear me say...
I just about remembered
What exactly you were trying to say.

Are you listening?
If today, I was to stomp my feet in a dessert full of bees
If today I was to shout in a pond full of bears
If somehow today I became pyromanic,
listen to me...
...and I lit a fire in a cemetery mister mister,
Hope you hear me...
Which one of the dead bodies would get up to rescue the rest or easier yet mister,
riddle me this... who would run?

Ten toes, two legs, one body, no head.

I remember wondering in that hall writing my Ethics exam. How dare this prof ask me when life starts.
Who am I to say,
"life starts at conception, when the sperm meets the ovum."?.
Or imply that
"no, it didnt. It actually started the moment the heart began to beat, or maybe even at birth once it passes the vag canal"

I somehow managed to conjure up some words to make it out of that hall.
I passed.
I was glad.
Never ever will I be confronted by such disturbing riddle.
I knew that there was no right answer; that Ethics course taught me that.

So as I stood in this lab, four years later, watching what this pathologist assistant held so matter-of-fact-ly in his hand
I remembered my Ethics class.
Oh goodness! Maybe there really is an answer!

That mass there in his palm, somewhat about a hundrenth of a pound.
Dead, silent, there. Hardly visible in that midst of what was to be her home for a while till she grew.
I call her a she.
Though it was probably a he.

It hit home for me because I'd do it. Wouldnt I?
And dont you dare judge me!!! Wouldnt you?!

Somewhat about a hundrenth of a human.
Dead, silent, there. Was a lifeless body of what was to be a person's baby.
All toes were present. i counted ten.

Ten toes, two legs, one trunk with no arms and no head , missing in the rubble of some red mushy remnants of a mixture of her's and her mother's tissues.
This mass of a life or lack there of, at 9 weeks and a day.

How then, do you decide when life started?
I dont know.
Tough this one did end, at negative nine weeks, and a day.

Await your wave, my love.

We never did get along. You'd always break when I didnt need you to. Really, I never did need you to.
I'll remember you for always quiting. Will remember you for carrying my miserable Dream and you down 800klicks or so to get to this snowy town. I'll remember all the pukes you withstood, took a while for Dream to get used to your leathery smell. You always knew just how to make her nauseous. She is scared of you. She certainly, will not miss you.
Sometime tomorrow, I'll laugh and tell bad truthful stories to people about how you just never could work right. I had you when I needed you the most and well, was too desperate to check you out right.
And the times when we'd get stuck up town and I'd have to call a friend for help to get me out of the mess you got me in. Somehow, we'd up it. Move. Somehow we'd make it back to some sort of haven.

Oh but Ms Swivel, when you get there in car heaven where parts are pulled, dismembered and used for organ donation please will you give Ms. Bugzy a wave for me?
Tell her how she was my first carlove and how she will be forever missed. Let her know just how much I wish you'd be able to take her place and how you had failed. Let her know.
I miss my babies.

Sometime tomorrow, I'll laugh and tell bad truthful stories to people about how I had ruined the little good thing you and I had. Sometime tomorrow. But today, I am just pissed and miserable as hell that this time, you are never getting better.

Goodbye my lover.

AA.

Just when...

... you think you've seen it all. It'll all be over the moment you get a chance to. When you get up out your seat, it'll be you; Big SuperYou with your cape and mighty powers; to the rescue. You are that one devine intervention that will rise to conquer evil, restore morality, and save Nigeria.

Then you see this:


... and hear the story of how that bus was ambushed on Lagos (Nigeria) expressway, how armed robbers, robbed and raped the passengers and instructed the driver to run the passenger over at gunpoint...

...and then you realize... you'd waited a day too long to stand up.


Picture retrieved from:

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3700861&id=665803000

Courage to hide. Courage to stand.

It takes courage to hide. Courage, to accept that though you're much more, you'll have to shed that pride and pretend that they're right; that you really, are nothing.
Courage! To accept the things you have been deluded into believing that you cannot change. It takes sheer courage, to stand on weak knees. Courage, to stand.

To the many men and women turned slavery to the crimes of inhumanity. In memory of the many children who died not ever knowing their worth and not ever recognizing their rights to question things and... to the many black men and women who did stand, and the white men and women who had enough integrity and wisdom to know that love is too pure to be contained and hate too harsh to be spread, thank you all.

You risked your lives to fight for equality, at a time when your life was worth very little. Many decades later, some would still say that we are still fighting. Yes, maybe. But thank you, for leading us well on the road. May your plights never be forgotten.

Happy black history month.

Did the show ever get written for this tune?