Left Eye was my musical inspiration. I didn’t try to copy her style, but her tough as nails, “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee” style made me rethink my inspirations for my music, writing, and poetry.
No more swaying
No more chill
Beat the drums with your feet
Let the guitar play in your blood
Harmonize your mind
To the crescendo of my voice
Dance with me
Don’t let me go
No easy love,
No taking it slow
We’ll burn the records
Drown the CDs
Dance all night.
[Song: Chasing the Sun by The Wanted]
They guide my fears
They watch my tear streaks.
For all our problems,
They always want to blame me.
Can’t escape the responsibility.
They never care
As long as they’re not scared, but me.
He doesn’t see others,
He only sees me.
He says that I’m the problem
But never that he hates me.
He claims love,
Yet always discriminates.
The youngest get his love,
The older are too late.
I never wished for much,
But can’t you see me?
Love has always meant so much
I’ll always love you,
As you can see.
But I don’t think you’re good for me.
I love you, Daddy, but I can’t be near you anymore.
I love you family, but I see that I’ll never truly have your support.
I’ll drift along alone, looking for that special one.
And maybe then I will see the real sun.
Ave Atque Vale.
So there I was in church yesterday. The Nigerian Catholic Community was doing a joint mass with the American community of one of the churches I attend.
The choir was a combination of Nigerians and caucasians and so are the songs. And there I was dreading how people might have started insulting my people’s music or saying that it didn’t seem appropriate for church. One of the ladies just turned to me from the choir stand while listening to my mom sing and smiles at me. And I had an epiphany.
Many stereotypes still exist because we expect them to. Black people expect others to downgrade them in society and underestimate their capabilities. They expect to be looked down on, so that inevitably occurs. We expect these circumstances, so we don’t always try to do our best or to overcome racism or stereotyping. Looking at some of my black friends, I think that we’re trying our best to make ourselves what we want to be. But then I look at black kids from other schools: some are doing drugs, others are getting drunk, and others act deplorably.
It makes me so disappointed in us as a race that we teens are acting this way and many parents allow it, yet we get upset when policemen do their duty. Granted, there are some who step out of line and abuse the power given to them. However, many just wish to be upstanding citizens and enforce the law so that others will be, too. I don’t believe that all policemen should be terrorized for the mistakes of the few, especially since we ourselves are doing so little to avoid the incidents from occurring.
It’s parents’ jobs first and foremost to be policemen and to keep their children from committing acts that will get them in trouble with the law. It’s our job as a race to do everything right in order to create racial equality. It’s our job as a people to not complain over our little hardships when others in this same great country suffer more. It’s our jobs to work for what we get and to take responsibility for our mistakes in life. It is not a right to have what we have; it is a privalege and an honor that we must respect.
Before we talk about equality for the people we need to better the quality of the people.
Boredom is a disease.
Zaniness is the cure.
-I’m a bookworm. Want to plan my presents for the next fifty years? Buy me two books (preferably romance and fantasy/paranormal/sci-fi) (and maybe a stuffed bear) and a bag of Hershey’s Cookies n’ Cream chocolate bites. That’s it.
-No one has realized this yet, but I’m a party girl. I like parties. No, not for the drinks. Or the food. Or the boys. I go to parties and dances to dance. Pure and simple.
-I’m really mellow. This could be associated with my bad memory, but I doubt it. I just have this sense of calm where I tell myself to just not think.
-I am who I am. How you interperet me is what you get. I won’t explain myself to anyone. Hence the multiple versions of myself.
-I’m not who you think I am. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am and what I’m like without consulting me or hearing my opinion. You think I’m selfish? You’re darn tootin’ I am, but if you ask for some of my beloved, coveted food, I’ll give you some. You think I’m lonely? Lonely people hate when they’re alone. I find it peaceful I just have a fear of being completely alone and death. They’re strong.
-I’m a contradictory mess. Some would say an oximoron. Others would say a paradox. I say it’s a lack of sleep and stunted emotional growth.
-I’m dark yet cheerful. It shows in my writing. I’m most neutral in stories because it’s not about me- it’s about the characters and my future readers.
-I hate awkward moments and fights. Some could say I’m passive. Haha, believe whatever you want, darling. Just wait until you try to touch my food….
Clawing at my throat
Dangling by the chains that I swallowed to hide.
Fear that everything bad thing I imagined will be true.
Fear that every amazing outcome is possible.
Fear of my dreams-my thoughts-my hopes.
So I take that fear
I hide it in a cupboard.
The cupboard is every fake laugh
Every fake smile
Every groan during the during the day
And every illusion during my insomnia nights.
My fears control me.
And that is the only thing that I’ll ever hate.
I came up with the idea of integrating my own words between lines in a song. Any part of the song, placed anywhere. I hope you like it. *ahem* (Song taken from: Story of Us by Taylor Swift)
Now I’m standing alone
I want to be near you, yet
In a crowded room and we’re not speaking
Ever since the first day,
We’ve stood on opposite sides of the tree of life
And I’m dying to know
Is it killing you like it’s killing me, yeah?
Tormented by my strong feelings for you,
Yet fearing those same emotions
I don’t know what to say
I linger silently over the note you gave me,
Never revealing anything
Since the twist of fate
I bite my lip whenever you laugh at me,
And hold my breath when you hold my eyes
When it all broke down
My stone wall of emotions crumbling under that gaze
And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now.
[Why do I always end up on this topic?!]
I am freaking out.
I revently had a dream about the person I like. The week before and a while back I’d also dreamed about him, although I can’t remember those dreams now. And last semester I had a really vivid dream where he saved me from falling from one of those climbing ropes (weird, right? I was exercising!). I called him a cutie in the dream which is what my brain and heart practically scream at me whenever I see him even though a better description would be charming or hot. Anyways, I was just freaked out because I’ve never dreamed about one person more than three times before. Except my family, but that explains itself.
From my Recent Reads, I’ve come to realize that female characters in paranormal, sci-fi, or fantasy novels have a set niche of reactions that have been used so much that they’ve become cliches. It’s sad, really, that these fully grown women don’t have as much sense as a introvert teenager. Let’s review these types, shall we?
1] The Screamer: I am no feminist. By all means, female empowerment and all that, but the guy has to make the first move. And in all honesty, when a girl finds out that this person that she has known for a while is a supernatural being and starts screaming and running, I kind of get ticked off…. just a little bit.
2] “Are you going to kill me?“: This is quite possibly the most annoying female type out there [as well as the most annoying question]. A good case scenario is a girl who was just locked up in a closed off area with an injured person whom she knows. At some point she discovers that the person is, perchance, a vampire. More often than naught, authors have the girls initiate some tyraid about the vampire killing them or stealing their soul or what-not. Now, I know little to nothing about the supernatural outside of what books say, but if this person is injured and bleeding, they’ll need blood, correct? And as a vampire, this person could have forcibly taken it from you, si? So why, on God’s great big wide Earth, do you think this person is going to wait until the brink of death or a considerably weakened state to try to kill you for your blood? In the words of Nolan from So Random: “Use your croissant; think, THINK!”
3] The Innocents [a.k.a. the Idiots (sounds better with a Nigerian accent)]: Oh, these girls…. I’d like to be nice and say that I like them but then I’d just be lying through my teeth. They are marginal in quantity but can still make one want to bang their head on the wall. These are the girls who call for the police for safety [no offense to our law enforcers but these are fantasy books], scream for help instead of fighting back, act as if they have never watched a horror movie [you get the idea], or ignore the warnings they are given and prance into the line of danger practically wearing a “Kill Me” sign.
My blantant dislike for these personality types are what led me to create the main character for the book I’m writing. Here’s me hoping that it’s good.
Top 5 Hot Guys List (My POV):
1) Jaime Campbell Bower [especially as Jace in The Mortal Instruments]
2) Zac Efron
3) Tom Hiddleston [especially as Loki in The Avengers]
4) Johnny Depp[he’s just plain good-looking]
5) My crush [of course he made this list!]