Friday, December 27, 2013

No Daddy! I don't WANT bitches! : On other people and their expectations

When I was younger, I was told that I should want big houses, fancy cars, and bitches. I was rarely asked "what do you want out of life" and quite frequently asked "what are you gonna do to pay for your big house, fancy cars, and bitches?" I never wanted a car, a house, or a bitch.

My father tried to give me a car when I was in college and I didn't want it. I liked walking. I liked biking. I liked nature and I didn't like bills. To me, a car was simply a bill with an engine. St. Louis wasn't big enough to justify having a car as far as I was concerned and I spent so much time in class and studying that I wasn't going anywhere anyway. So I asked him "who's going to pay for the gas and insurance?" My father said, "you are." So I turned down the offer.

Later, I was blamed by my father and his family for being ungrateful. "Your dad got you a car and you didn't even take it. Why are you so ungrateful?" My feelings were that this old dude who I barely knew just gave me a really expensive bill. If that's being ungrateful, then I'm ok with that. I also never got the bill.

Other family members said, "why didn't you just take the car? That's how he shows love?" That's beautiful and all, but I'm not going to pay property taxes and insurance on somebody else's self-soothing attempt at loving me. No matter how you slice it, that shit's ridiculous.

I have no end to this story except that I still don't want a big house, fancy cars, and bitches. At age 31 going into 32, I'm preparing for the next phase of my life on a volcano with my woman, my big yurts, my fancy Fiat, and my cats.

Poetry In Motion asks: 
"I'm confused on the bitches. why would that have been something anyone would long to have? What was the thought behind that?"

Blue responds: 
"It's part of the American dream: picket fence, 2.5 children, bitches....When you have your own bitches, you're more in control of the breeding. Bitches are also cleaner than male dogs. At least that's what I've heard. I don't have nor have I ever wanted bitches. I'm more of a cat person myself."

Monday, December 23, 2013

I thought you were pretty and then I realized it was you!

I grew up in a culture where the little girls had long thick hair and learned how to braid and care for it early. Around 14 or 15, they would cut their hair into teenage styles and/or get a perm for the first time as a rite of passage...I never wanted to grow up. However, at 17, I was sick and tired of the bi-monthly weekend hair marathon that plagued my life. Day 1: wash, oil, and braid. Day 2: press. I had to ask myself, "why in the hell am I doing all this?" Originally, I saw a perm as a solution to my problem: if the napps were gone, I could comb my hair after washing it. However, nobody told me that perm maintenance was a pain in the ass. So I decided to get my first perm and after 2 years and 3 consecutive perms, I realized that I simply couldn't stomach the smell. So the perms stopped and my napps came back...only it wasn't the hair I knew. It was coarse and raggedy. One cousin braided extensions into my head so I wouldn't have to deal with it while I was studying in Madrid and backpacking around Europe. When I tired of those braids another cousin introduced me to the sew-in. I was confused and itchy for 2-3 months. Finally, once my safe nappies returned to me, I asked a guy from my church to start my locs. I didn't know what I was doing. I just knew I didn't have time for the weekend hair marathon anymore.

The scariest part of the ordeal was that during my pop culture exploration phase, I didn't recognize myself. I wanted me back. When I got locs, I felt like I got me back. It was a way for me to maintain the silhouette of "me" that made sense to me without all the work. However, During my hair journey, I learned quite a bit about people. It was an experiment of sorts, and these are the results:

1. Reactions I got when I had long thick hair:
"why don't you have a perm?" or "you would look so pretty with a perm."
"dang! Your hair is thick!" or "You got too much hair!"
"are you mixed?"
"You need to straighten your hair."
"You can't go swimming like that."
"You should let your hair down."
"That's not your real hair."

2. Reactions I got when I had straightened hair:
"You are so pretty."
"I thought you were pretty and then I realized it was you!"
"would you like to go to prom?"
"would you like to go out?"
"Your hair is sooooo pretty!"
"You think you better than me? You ain't cute."

3. Reactions I got when I had braided extensions:
"I want you to be my girlfriend."
"Who did your hair?"
Note: I spent the majority of that time in Madrid, so I didn't have a lot of reactions. I was usually ignored by non-American or non-African students and non-students. It was the most peace I'd experienced in life until then.

4. Reaction to the sew in (long black hair that curled at the ends).
"Is that a weave?"
"See, you're not like other girls. You know the value of hair."
"You look really nice!"

5. Reactions to my new locs:
"Are you a rasta now?"
"Are those braids?"
"You look a mess!"
"Why would you do that to yourself?"
"As long as you're happy..."

6. Reactions once the locs grew longer:
"Your hair is sooo pretty!"
"What's up Queen?"
"See, we as African peoples have to come together."
"What do you know about the 5%"
"That's not your real hair."
"Who did that?"
"Got a lighter?"

This all transpired over the course of about 9 years from 1999-2008. My conclusion:
1. people are full of shit.
2. All I really want is to recognize myself. Every once in a while, I do. The journey continues.


Friday, December 20, 2013

FOX NEWS, please shut the fuck up.

I admittedly and proudly get all of my news from comedians. They're the only people telling the truth as far as I'm concerned. But that's not the point. The point is all this hoopla about Christians, Christianity, and Christmas. Here goes something I think:

If the popular representation of Christianity weren't so extremely white, blond, blue eyed, racist and delusional, majority culture would take what was said more seriously. Everyone speaking on behalf of Christianity in popular media look to the rest of us like the kind of people you want to generally avoid in daily know, those people...when they start talking you suddenly remember that you have somewhere else to be, something else to do, or in desperate scenarios, you'll just go on a rant about the bonfire of aborted fetuses and Bibles that you and your family danced and sang around last night just before having sex with each other.

It seems that because of racism, homophobia, and overall closed-mindedness, Christianity is looking very one dimensional and completely insane to the majority of Americans. Though I am no longer a Christian for all intents and purposes, I am absolutely respectful of the religion and practice as a way to find balance in one's life...or salvation from sins...whatever rhetoric you need to use to get into heaven. However, for the sake of all Christians in America who don't necessarily want to be perceived as brainwashed delusional lunatics, Fox News, I plead to you:

SHUT THE FUCK UP! Your audience is getting smaller and crazier...and it shows.


Wednesday, December 18, 2013

My Human Being: Why I'm Not Doing a Damn Thing

Most of the "we're Black and living in an oppressed state and therefore we should represent ourselves better to create better communities" literature and banter comes from the perspective that I should have to DO something to be a good black person. I used to be a doer. I did all kinds of things. In fact, I got awarded and praised for all the shit I did. But doing shit left me tired, unfulfilled, jaded, and overall pissed at everybody who didn't appreciate the shit I did. So I have changed my perspective.

These days, I don't believe in doing anything. In fact, I believe that doing less enables my true nature to emerge. The less I do, the more beautiful the world looks, as it is allowed to be itself without my I get to see the world...not my imposition on the world.

Also, doing nothing saves energy for me to do what I want to do when I want to do it. I only like to do a few things: cook, make music, and take baths. Everything else is either me preparing to cook, make music, take baths, or cleaning up from cooking, making music and taking baths. When I'm doing shit I don't want to do, I wanna get it done asap so I can spend more time not doing a damn thing.

So what's your point Blue? My point is this: real freedom is not having to do a damn thing...especially not for a damn body justify existing in my skin. Real freedom is my human being.