free form

I sit here
painting my toenails
Examining my pores
thinking in similes and metaphors
My thoughts begin to sprawl
…and I remember all
the songs I loved growing up
marvin gaye and tammi terrell
taught me that even in death/ our words prevail
and oooh i
I used to love him
And I just want some
Of that sexual healing
that feeling
that I got from her
Yeah I really loved her
Lauryn hill
I can still hear
Those lyrics thump in my ear
Drums/ bass/ beat
My legs move/ my chest
Heaves/
So caught I up/ I forget to breathe

Yes I used to love them
But now…

I don’t think about lyrics/ I dream of being rich
At risk of falling for that bait and switch
Start off running, chasing the dream
But end up chasing cars and cream
Dollar dollar bills y’all
Cause cash rules everything
Around
But what about me?

Yes, I’m at risk
I said I wouldn’t fall
Victim to that trap
But the simple fact is
I think about my money
I’m obsessed with finances
Money over friends and bitches
Family trumps riches
But I have to ask
Is it even about art anymore?
Have I sold out/ squelched my voice/before I made my offering to the world my contribution to the universe/ is it even about being the first/ black woman/ to win best director/ and even if it is/ should it be?/ be about the accolades the self congratulatory trophies/ the look at mes/ the people’s adoration/ the flashing lights of kanye’s graduation/somehow beam/ endlessly down/ down/ until I scream/ that they have to get off of me… cause like em says – that’s not what I got into it for – that’s not what it’s about for me
Except I suspect
That maybe
It could be
And that’s what’s eating away
My creativity

2.11.09

Airplanes and Aging

I'm thinking about flights - traveling - time traveling, something mind unraveling, ya dig?

No, seriously, my boss - an unnamed person who has produced at least one of your favorite (indie) movies if you are 1) a cinephile or 2) human - if going to a film festival this week, and we've been slammed with travel arrangements, last minute changes, and death threats.

People never cease to amaze (read: annoy) me. This woman calls me yesterday with the following rant:

"If we had taken care of this Saturday when we first brought it to your attention, the fare would still be cheap."

Indeed, that is true. But guess what? It wasn't taken care of. And it's now Monday, so we need a new plan. And lower your voice, by the way. There's nothing I can or am willing to do for you - not if you keep that attitude and keep living in the past.

Last night, my boss decides that he would rather take an earlier flight to the film festival. That's fine with me- but our travel lady doesn't send me his itinerary until an hour before his flight. That's all well and good when you're flying domestically and for leisure but for international business? That's cutting it a weee bit closer than I like to play things.

Okay, not my most interesting blog, that's for certain. Maybe it's because I'm kind of hungry. I'm one of those girls that eats alot but is always on a diet. So I'm trying to stop eating so much. I weigh more than I've ever weighed in my whole life right now. I'm in a size 5 now! Jeez, I've gotten huge in the past 18 months - and this is not said with sarcasm or joy. It is said with honest disgust and a bit of self hatred, at this point. I can't seem to halt the weight gain or my obsession with food. In the interim, I have concluded that getting old sucks.

Identity First.

Allow me to introduce myself, c'mon. My name HOV, H to the O-V.

Just kidding.

My name is unimportant, and I'll never reveal it here. If I wanted you to know it was me, I would have given you a ring on the telefono. But since I carefully worded my sentences and sidestepped your probes the last time we talked, it's not unreasonable to assume, in this instance, that I don't want to tell you all of my business. That's not true. Assume - you'd still me making an ass out of me and you.

I want to tell you everything - show you everything - I just don't want you to know that it's me.

This is the first blog I've written in a long time. I used to occasionally post blogs on myspace.com, but I stopped. I would like to sound noble and condescending and assert that I was too good for that forum, but alas, it isn't true.
What is true is that I stopped writing. Not just blogs - but journals - poems - screenplays - stories.
Some of you say so what, big deal? It's a big deal for a person like me, who wrote prolifically for over a decade, and then one day, almost a year ago, it just dried up.
I haven't any ideas that I want to devote the time to - well, that's not wholly accurate. Maybe it's the energy.
Or it could be the paralyzing fear. After all, I am scared alot.
Of the dark, mostly. Unfortunately, I'm not joking. I'm 24 years old and the darkness terrifies me. When I was younger, I thought the boogie man would come. I guess I still think that - except now the boogie man is real and he'll stab you and rob you and take things that you can never get back. He lurks in the shadows, waiting outside the barred windows of the bathroom and bedroom, anticipating the moments when the lights go off and everything fades to black... the moment he can creep in...
But I'm waaaay off topic.

I guess I never identified that there was a topic. But there is. I thought if I wasn't going to tell you my name, I could at least tell you the reason I call my blog yesterday's favorites. There are several reasons - one is pure vanity - being that my name does mean favorite. The others, they are less self centered but still connected to my visions and ideas, of course.

A friend and I were discussing how what we love one day may be "ahh, blah" the next. Hence yesterday. Another thought that crossed my mind was the speed with which we pass through phases - I don't if it's this country, or the world. One day everyone loved Michael Phelps and Chris Brown - the next, they are dethroned. I'll get into that stuff in another blog, but yes, I feel like we move so fast that we forget to appreciate or that we're on to something new, constantly chasing a feeling that mimics our first experience, when that experience can never be replicated. It's the same conundrum that the drug addict faces - chasing, chasing, losing, losing.

Wow, I'm really somber today - my apologies. And I'm only going to apologize this once, cause I could be somber for days on end and I don't want to continually apologize for what I am - today, tomorrow, or yesterday.