Archive for December, 2008
all about 09
Dec 25th
I have been away for a while, I know. Don’t fret. January brings a new wind to Qomplesso and I will be freed up to write to/for you much more frequently.
I’ve been traveling like a mad woman and have finally settled in to celebrate New Year’s Eve/my bornday down south with my family.
I pray all is well with everyone. And I pray you are taking a hard look at this past year, revising details and projecting all of your dreams clearly onto your tomorrow.
So much is changing in my life. It’s absolutely absurd, LOL, yet wonderful. I will update you soon. But for now, GET OFF THE COMPUTER AND GO PLAY A BOARD GAME WITH YOUR LOVED ONES!
Wait, not until you check this out though LOL:
I decided to share my hair post with a website called Blackpower.com. You can check it here. 
Happy Holy-days!
As ever,
Cyu
faded picture in a broken frame
Dec 19th
I recently discovered exactly how crucial it is to separate nostalgia and current emotion. It is a tricky ordeal. People get trapped in a moment in time and become so consumed with the past that they forget to live in and for the present/future.
One can be stuck in a certain era of their life that was either extremely good or horribly bad. Or mistake being in love with the past for being in love with the person they shared it with. Or just stand staring at what once was while what is passes them by.
It takes a lot to break the habit of nestling in nostalgia. People, generally, have to be yanked out of it, willingly or unwillingly. I was yanked out this past week. Snatched right up out that mug. And after traveling through every feeling I could possibly experience post-yanking I landed on the soft realization that this had to happen. And that it in fact happened precisely when it was supposed to.
It was like I was forced to empty my cup. I was begging God to pour some water in my cup but it was already full of vodka. Not literally, but meaning I was intoxicated with all the shoulda-woulda-couldas. Disturbed and unable to get past the fact that my life had not unfolded as I had planned. Forgetting that we plan and He plans and He is the best of planners and preventing God from blessing me with what I truly need and deserve. It wasn’t until someone metaphorically knocked my drink out of my hand that the trance was broken. And with it an insane cycle of stupidity.
How many of us are standing still, delaying something great because we’re still staring at that empty spot on the mantle meant for the framed memory of what we hoped would be? How many of us are too frightened to open our minds to the possibility of another picture sitting in its place or to come to grips with the fact that the picture frame we long for has long been broken?
It’s only when we open up to the chance of something utterly new and wonderful happening, that it does. When we let go of what we swore was best for us and accept what truly is, our voids, in fact, become space… for the beautiful unexpected.
As I allow for a moment of mourning the past, I flip through memories and tears fall down my cheeks. But a moment is all I will allow for, before I tuck these pictures deep into my yesterday. I am ready for the wonderment of my tomorrow and can rest easy now that I’ve accepted that God is the best photographer.
governor no likey
Dec 15th
SNL has mocked too many political figures to name, however their skit this past weekend that was intended to poke fun at Governor Paterson may have taken it a little far, surpassing solely addressing the governor and ridiculing blind people in general.
The governor issued a statement (see below) expressing his disgust in response to the skit and now, apparently Republicans are now taking offense…to his… taking offense… (??)
They are making the argument that no one got upset over SNL mocking Sarah Palin and no one should be offended.
**blank stare**
To those Republicans I say this:
1. This is not about politics you idiots. There do happen to be blind Republicans. Go figure hunh?? **blankstare**
2. While we can all agree that Palin is the posterchild for retardation, the mentally challenged community like every other community with any sense, has not accepted her as one of their own. Gov. Paterson on the other hand, has been an accepted representative for the blind community making strides with his political position in how the world views the visually impaired.
SNL, poor form chaps. Poor form.
in case you missed it…
Dec 15th
I’m still LMAO about this.
So apparently the ultimate insult in Iraq is to throw your shoe at someone as your shoes are filthy and this man wanted to express that exact sentiment toward Bush for the hand he has had in the strife this man has experienced LOL.
My question is: Really?? Secret Service?? Like WTF were they doing when this happened??? LOLOLOLOL
The full story is here and the clip is below. Enjoy LOL
un-”lock” your mind
Dec 12th
Stepping on the C train this morning I was greeted by the strong aroma of Blue Magic hair grease. As I surveyed the train for the greasy-headed culprit I was taken back to my childhood. As a child…in the hood, Blue Magic grease was a staple in the household. That grease and a brush dipped in a cup of hot water was all that could make my tight curls “manageable” after a record number of combs (all boasting the word “unbreakable”) lay snapped in half in a shoebox, casualties of my kinks.
Since my younger years I’ve worn approximately 150 different hairstyles and been involved in almost as many discussions about hair. Groups of people debating over the feelings evoked by, assumptions attached to, judgements passed because of, etc and so forth. Heated arguments have developed from… songs and theatrical productions have been created about…dammit revolutions have been expressed through these masses of dead cells atop our head that we style to represent who we are, what we think, how we feel or simply how we want to appear on any given day.
The problem I’ve come to have is not so much with hair itself (aside from the fact that I detest any strand of any type of hair once it is detached from its origin…seriously people. I cringe) but with the people attached to the hair.
Those who create stereotypes regarding it, you know: short hair on a woman = dyke; permed hair on a woman = wants to be white, hates herself; weaves/extensions = same as perms; waves/curls on a man = prettyboy, playboy, conceited; locks = earthy, for the people, vegan, who is somehow a better person for his/her dedication to some type of cause even if his/her cause in reality is nowhere close to righteous in nature.
And those who develop an unhealthy attachment to it. Ie. People who break down as if they’ve lost their first-born when they lose it or for that matter who pay more attention to their hair than their first-born. Or even people who pass up on the opportunity of getting to know someone great because they don’t have the type they like.
Hair is simply, and in fact, like any other accessory. It should be manipulated by its owner to accentuate the beauty/power that one is already aware of in his/herself.
A lion’s mane is a mighty symbol of its prowess yet without a mane a lion’s roar is no less ferocious and its bite no less deadly.
The point is, cupcakes, the way we style our strands doesn’t hold a candle to the light we give off when we know and love who we are. Learn who you are, love that person and add the decoration for fun. You’ll absolutely glow. And trust me, no infinite amount of Blue Magic can duplicate that shine.
*
scared of lonely
Dec 10th
I just listened to Beyonce’s new song “Scared of Lonely” about 20 times.
Why? Well, because I happen to like it. But also because I’ve sang that song a million times in my subconscious sans the instrumentals prior to even hearing her version. Meaning: I’ve been there. Hell, who am I kidding? I used to get my mail there.
Loneliness is like the plexiglass of emotions. You can be in a crowd of millions and loneliness will allow no one to penetrate its stronghold.
Everyone handles it differently.
Some people bury themselves in their work to drown out the echoes of their emptiness.
Some fill their emptiness with random strangers.
And others dilute the reality of their loneliness abusing any substance that will make either the emptiness or the random strangers more tolerable.
Then comes Solitude, as Loneliness is merely Solitude’s accomplice.
It’s a strange thing. If left unaddressed, Loneliness stings you enough to make you run into the arms of Solitude to escape the pain.
Your fear becomes resignation and you begin to welcome isolation.
Out the frying pan and into the fire.
I sat awake at 1:45am scrolling through my blackberry rolodex, contemplating the solution to my Loneliness. Alone, of course. Yet wondering what difference it would make if that weren’t the case.
After concluding that solution’s name didn’t start with the letters A through K, I came to another conclusion: Though the solution may not be in one person in particular it is however in what those hundreds of names represent. Love.
Love is the one thing that can stand up to Loneliness.
Loneliness tends to not sting as bad when you remember loved ones who are loving you even while you’re in your unloving plexiglass box.
And more than that loneliness fades when you love yourself enough to realize that you actually make for damn good company.
Love essentially turns Lonely into Alone.
And that makes all the difference.
Because unlike Loneliness, Alone leaves when company arrives.
I’m going to lay down now. To rest easy. Alone.
ashes to… feathers
Dec 5th
The phoenix bird has always appealed to me.
Its cycles of destruction and reconstruction.
Its flames of purification. Its ashes. Its journey. Its victorious rise.
Transformation is magical.
It occurs of course in inevitable growth, aging. But it’s the kind that is decided upon–in no certain space and time–that impresses me.
When one knowingly and purposefully enters the process of transformation determined to see it through…believing in their power and confronting the impossible with every step.
When one commits to the trying task of self-improvement. Knowing our flaws in and of itself is a tremendous blessing. But it takes a certain type of spirit to tackle them head on, working toward perfection.
And it’s not necessarily the perfection that is so commendable but rather the integrity and prowess that are biproducts of the struggle to attain it.
The butterfly is beautiful, yes. But the strength and endurance it must possess to undergo what happens in that cocoon is where the beauty truly lies.
It’s no coincidence that Change was such a huge slogan this year.
Be the change you want to see, right?
A new page to sketch on. Blank lines for fresh prose.
This year burnt me.
Today I’m a pile of ashes.
Tomorrow I expand my wings and brush my shoulders off.
~ cyu