geeky blog feelings
haven’t written in awhile. been wrestling with the blog like it had a body and some headgear. one part journal, one part reality tv show, one part performance space etc. so anything done here is probs gonna be seen/read by whoever, by you and obsessively by me. that’s the point right? normally, i’m game but sometimes i’ve got to keep stuff in. also, sometimes i think about it way too much and am not sure what to say or believe in or give even half a fuck about. ‘hmm, that article about Monsanto crushing the world one seed at a time makes me so mad! should i blog…? no…i don’t know enough about that and i’m just gonna be one of those internet morons that goes crazy about something they don’t know anything about’ or ‘PUPPIES!’ or ‘all feelings need release. now. ahh, nm.’ shit is melodramatic. a telenovela. anyway, deep breaths. woosai. it’s fine. this blog is the best thing ever. thank you, charlie vazquez.
a few words about the N-word
spent 7 days out of Ahhmericcuhhh and man there’s some good shit outside in the world. taking a break from the Bronx is nice too. i didn’t realize how much shit I carry around with me until I had a few days to breathe easy. Yo, people in the Bronx (not everyone obvs) use the N-Word ALL THE DAMN TIME. From 149th & Grand Concourse to 241st and White Plains road, I could probs make enough money to retire in a month if I got a dollar for every time someone said ‘n*gga’. It’s a noun, a verb, an adjective: it’s an intersection of every single feeling. I’m not gonna get into its history because 1) ya’ll should already know and 2) I gotta get to work at some point this morning. Anyway, I hear that shit all the time and I didn’t hear it once while abroad. Not once. I didn’t even notice at first but then I was like “wait…people don’t say N here.” and in the back of my brain, I listened for that shit, wondering if it’d pop up when people were drunk or something. Nothing. It felt so good not to hear that word. I’m not overly sensitive about it. I used to use it cuz that was the thing but now it’s just a word that doesn’t have a place in my life. it’s heavy. every time someone says it, i hear it. you can’t not hear it. ever. so being somewhere else, somewhere that its usage isn’t even accidental, like the word doesn’t exist outside of crazy town usa was internally monumental.
i’m the roughtest, toughest
most days, I’m all:
least on the outside, i mean, inside i’m just a big old soft butch queen. anyway, one other random good thing about being away was that my guard got a break. i didn’t realize how much armor i wear or how thick it is until i wasn’t carrying it for a few days. no one shouted at me on the street. no one pushed me out of their way. i didn’t have to walk past pimps, bloods, prostitutes, crack addicts, dust heads. obvs there’s nothing inherently wrong with any of the people that fall into those categories.it’s just that being around that most of the time makes me feel fucking weird. it’s like playing hot lava at the supermarket. white tiles: sand. blue tiles: ocean. red tiles: hot lava. and somewhere in there some sharks. no matter what supermarket i was in it always felt like there were way more red tiles. so you’re hopping like a mofo, dodging all the reds without anywhere to land. so i feel like i’m always dodging some shit, real or imagined. i could live in a super hood hood and perhaps it’d be worse but fuck, for like seven days it felt good to just breathe. it felt good to not watch my back or ball my hands into fists while walking. it felt good to be left alone. maybe i was lucky, i’m not idealizing another country or saying where i live is the worst place on earth, i just noticed the differences. it felt good not to have to pretend that i’m unfazed by my environment while navigating it. it felt good to not use my inhaler 15 times a day. everything felt manageable for a minute.
what’s in an ending?
endings are bullshit. if it was up to me All My Children would still be on television, none of the Golden Girls would be dead, RuPaul would be the Pope/Queen of the World until forever and I’d still know some of the people that I don’t know anymore. also, just because i don’t know how to end this blog, here’s a list of unrelated semi-important things i wish would cease to exist since endings are a thing and i need to get used to them:
1) uplifting and/or spiritual memes. (please, just stop)
2) violent sociopathic musical odes categorized as love songs from male artists
3) creepy liquids to make water not be water anymore. (wtf MiO?)
4) Illuminati conspiracy theories, specifically about dumbass celebrities. (sorry Bey)
5) the TSA frisking my ass and taking my shit