....and I Knew when My hands wouldn't move, and the paper remained a deafening, blinding white, and empty lines were where words should have been yelling, and screaming from; maybe everything was ok.

I could write, but i couldn't write anymore.

Not like I wanted to. I couldn't capture their hearts because what I did was from the heart, what I did was through my own pain, in hopes to help them with theirs. Now... Im just stuck in the middle of a big ass hurricane; the eye of the storm is always quiet.

To My readers, those who actually enjoy, and read, and love..... I apologize.
I'll be back but I'm enjoying happiness and freedom from emotional distress right now.

Dont worry, because I'm not typing, doesnt mean that I'm not writing anymore. I keep a pen and a wideruled marble notebook on me at all times, jotting down schitzo worthy thoughts.

Ladies and gentlemen I have had two people make reference to me not reading their blog. I also haven't been posting on my very own. I've been busy getting A's on all my papers and trying to be a social butterfly lol. I have so many things im trying to do as well as keeping up with my on campus organizations and make a name for myself before...

*AHEM* Teems knows this. I'll tell you later Teems

Back to the general audience. Anyway...

Jaycee, I do apologize hun, your blog will definitely be read when I sign on, Sasha, I see the new blog, and I'll be checking in from time to time. Any One else want to hang me for not reading and commenting, dont worry, I'll come through.

BUT LET ME BE CLEAR, if you aren't writing about anything, then I'm not commenting. I don't care about fashion (Unless your Allyson) and I don't care about entertainment news, or entertainers. Just great topics, and great discussions, hell I'll even read a poem or two.... but don't give me nonsense overload.


Back to this paper I'm working on...

Ciao Bella's and Boys!

You know something; there are alot of great Black Artists, but Black fans are always comparing their artists and trying to make an artist and their music less great than it really is. Like Comparing Nas to Hov... WHY? Two Different men, two different types of music, under the same Genre.

You don't hear white people saying "Well you know... Elvis was hot, but Frank Sinatra is better because ...."

We need to let our artist be great and stop ripping them apart on shows, in blogs, and on the radio. It's usually only Black Owned Blogs, and Black Bloggers who disrespect black artist.

That's Like comparing Nicki Minaj to Lil' Kim, why cant Nicki be Nicki, and Kim be Kim. Yeah, Kim is a pioneer,a nd a woman who originated her style of rap (because of course we had MC Lite and Queen Latifah before her) and that's why Kim is great (In My Opinion), but let Nicki Minaj be Nicki Minaj.

I named this Nas because I Love Nas, and I Was Listening to The Message when The light bulb moment came about. Y'all know how random I am.

A while back I happily posted a story about Roxanne Shante' and her apparent victory over the music industry. She claimed that she had recieved her PhD in psychology from cornell university after Warner music had put a clause in her contract in which they were forced to honor by the courts. Well; she lied. Isn't that something?

Im clearly disappointed in her especially because her story was obviously a rags to riches victory over "the man" type story. Anyway according to an article on Slate's website:

• According to Warner, neither it nor any of its subsidiary record labels ever had a contract with Shanté, and it was not obligated to pay for her education. Indeed, there's no evidence that it ever did.
• Shanté—real name Lolita Shanté Gooden—doesn't have a Ph.D. from Cornell or anywhere else. Indeed, she admitted it in an interview with Slate. And Cornell has no record of Gooden (or "Shanté") ever attending or receiving a degree.
  
• According to Marymount Manhattan College records, Shanté enrolled there but dropped out less than four months later without ever earning a degree.
  
• New York state records indicate that no one named Lolita Gooden or Roxanne Shanté is licensed to practice psychology or any related field.

Im obviously disappointed, Roxanne Shante eventually released an 'apology' in which she says:

I would like to thank my long time fans and supporters for your continued support. I am humbled and grateful to all of you for that. Without going into all of the details as of right now, I would like to apologize that this story regarding my post recording career has caused such a ruckus. The entire story will be revealed at a later time.

Thats interesting, she's not even aknowledging that she lied. I won't even bother looking for her story to be revealed later on because she lied and its been proven.

I'll be back. I have stuff in my drafts that I Need to finish. I'm talking about life, healthcare, and .... A Bunch of other stuff. My Lifee is in turmoil... Lol

Later!!

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT to disrespect any people affiliated with any Greek sororities and Fraternities. I'm expressing my feelings and showing you my experiences while away at college. An HBCU to be exact.

INCIDENT 1

The other day we had a mixer outside, I believe it was being held by the Alpha's and they were strolling, and stepping. It looked almost like a probate, but it wasn't. A young lady who was an AKA pushed me, so that she could see what was going on.

If you knew/know me, you'd know that the bitch didn't have to push me, all she had to do was ask say "excuse me". I could care less about watching them "stomp the yard". I can watch the movie and see that sexy brown skin bald head guy from the movie for all of that. So me being the schizophrenic Brooklynite that I am hit her with the "Excuse me" insert mad attitude as you say/read that. She turns around and someone says "Girl you better chill, she's an AKA"

*Insert Eye roll and "I don't give a *expletive*" here*

INCIDENT 2

A young lady was allegedly hospitalized after an object was flung into her face by a member of Delta Sigma Theta. Instead of people criticizing the delta's for their actions they crucified the young girl who eventually told about the hazing. They said things like "Th bitch wasn't cut out for it, she shoulda kept her mouth closed". Really?
I mean, theirs no sympathy for the girl who was hospitalized? or the other girl who told what was going on and had to change her school because they wouldn't leave her alone?

They're just lucky it wasn't me, or someone else like me, because I would have gotten my hands on a licensed gun and defended myself.

Most Greeks would label me a hater, or something else simply because I'm not affiliated, yet I will speak against them and some of their unruly actions. The joke is on them. I never actually took the steps necessary to actually join them. Me being from New York, where your Greek organization doesn't mean more than the next chicks Blood affiliation, it just so happens that joining a sorority no longer means shit to me, especially after I've seen the damage they do to people considered outsiders. The way people idolize and praise them disgusts me. I don't see you in church (only for those who deem themselves to be religious people), reading the Bible, or praising God, yet you know every AKA by name, and her whole life story, what state she's from and who her boyfriend is. WHERE THEY DO THAT AT?

I still have respect for the Delta's on ASU's campus even though that horrible incident took place, because I've witnessed them do alot of community service IN THE COMMUNITY. When I say 'in the community', I mean in Montgomery. Not simply doing things abroad to make themselves look good and get recognized. .

However, alot of the other Greek organizations seem to simply just BE there. I don't see them doing much of anything besides wearing their Blues, yellows, pinks, greens, and purples. (I have seen the brothers of Alpha Phi Alpha partake in alot of awareness programs on campus, I commend them for that so they can be excluded from that list of people who hardly do anything)

I'm tired of dealing with their gang mentality. What in that girls correct, sane mind would let her think that she could push me out the way, to see her "Brothers" step and I would be OK with that?

Greeks and Gangs?



many people say that Greeks can't be compared to gangs, because - of course Greeks don't go around engaging in criminal activity .....or do they? I believe their initiation practices are very criminal and can be compared to those of Bloods, Crips, and Latin Kings. Hazing is criminal, illegal, and against Greek letter organization policy. On ASU's campus, if you mess with one Q-Dog, you mess with them all, and PLEASE, don't even attempt to speak out against these people and the things that you dislike about them. You might be in danger of getting bullied, or run the chance of having to physically defend yourself against them. I'm a Brooklynite, and Schizophrenic is in front of that title. I was crazy before I was a brooklynite (Which means I was thinking crazy thoughts before my mother let the doctors cut me out. See, I didn't even want anything to do with the coochie, they had to cut me out the belly, or my mother would still be pregnant today) so I'm not afraid of anything, especially not people.

I think that the Greek Organizations on ASU's Campus need new direction and leadership. They need to actually do what they are supposed to do; like, empower women, and emancipate the minds of young men. They need to be a "sista" and "brotha" to all men and women, not just their sorors and Frat brothers. Its time that they serve the community and give back to the people who actually invest in their existence and support them no matter what controversy they are being accused of (like the beating, and hospitalization of a young lady while being hazed last semester who was a Delta pledge). O

In December 2005 Dr. Agnes Nairn at the University of Bath in England published research suggesting that girls often go through a stage where they hate their Barbie dolls and subject them to a range of punishments, including decapitation and placing the doll in a microwave oven. Dr. Nairn said: "It's as though disavowing Barbie is a rite of passage and a rejection of their past."

I remember the first time I decapitated my very own Barbie Doll. She had on a red mini skirt and a white tube top. I knew right then and there that I had to rid myself of this destructive love/hate relationship that me and Barbie had developed over the years. I was first introduced to her associate - Christie. Christie looked nothing like me even though I had brown skin and long hair just like her. She was 5'9; I was standing tall at a breathtaking... 4 feet and 11 inches (Though, I would proudly add 1/2 an inch if my uncles asked). I could only pray to Baby Jesus that I would ever manage to sprout up to 5 feet 9 inches. Sad to say that I'm a 20-some-odd year old woman today, and I'm only 5'2. She was 110 Pounds, and I was 90 lbs, but I was young. So that 90 Lbs in 'Grown Up Life' was more like 146 Lbs. I was fat according to the makers at Mattel. I ripped her head off, and I felt emancipated. I ripped her left Limb off, I felt a sense of solidarity. I pulled her apart; piece by piece, limb by skinny little pale limb - until there was nothing left but her size 1 waist attached to the rest of her midsection.

I Could live with just that part being leftover. I packed her mutilated body parts into a plastic bag that read "Thank You" on the front. The kind that you might get from the corner store, or the Spanish bodega. Thank You. "Your welcome, anytime" I told myself, because I had done myself a favor of not getting caught up in the hype of becoming ....a Barbie doll. I would grow up and think for myself. I wouldn't wear high heels, and I would die before I wore a mini skirt and a Tube top. I would never allow Ken to feel me up while we played 'house', and I would never reduce myself to the type of woman that would actually consider "Playing House". No, I needed a real man, and Barbie came with kids, and a Ken doll, but Ken didn't come with a marriage License. "Nope, not Me"; I told myself as I tied the bag into a knot. I walked to my grandmother and declared "I'm OVER Barbie dolls. This Christmas get me something a little more mature, like a Tamagotchi, Maybe?".



I smiled proudly as I trooped off to the depths of the kitchen to rid myself of her. I took one last look at her as I dropped her into the trash can.

"You did the right thing" I told myself. I knew I would never be able to live up to Barbie's standards of perfection, I could never afford the townhouse on Malibu, or the car she came with on Christmas day of 1994. I would never have a conglomerate of perfectly structured friends. Ken, was superficial, and he was stiff - Not my type. Christie was an "Oreo". Black on the outside with a milk colored, cream soul. No black girl had white features, unless they were born to a white parent. What About Me? The Black girl, with black features. Death To You Barbie, and your friend Christie Can get It Too! She doesn't represent me, nor does she scare me! She's merely the token black girl.

THE RETURN OF BARBIE

One fine day I was flipping through this sitcom I call Myspace. I see an update: "Bad Bitch Barbie". My ex friend, turned enemy has returned; now declaring herself a "bitch". I ignore her update, because obviously she has changed alot, and not for the better. I mean,... she labeled herself a BITCH for Heaven's sake! 'She must be going through it', I think to myself. I proceed on my daily adventures in the spaces of mines. On my journey I notice that she has also been spotted on another page. The title reads "Pink barbie", I get upset at this sighting. She's invading my privacy; she's in MY Space now. I curse her and continue on to delete her. Then, there's a new breed of barbie; "Harajuku Barbie". I guess that's the Asian Bitch, next up is "Black Barbie". Oh no, the return of Christie Perhaps? No, that's not Christie, that girl looks like an actual African American. Barbie has an army of girls misrepresenting her, thats the only conclusion I could think of. I don't know whether to be upset, or happy to see that these girls have decided to take their imperfections and label them under the Tab that reads "Perfect". Is this a statement saying that "Anyone can be a barbie. whether they be a size 1 or a size 18, black with dark skin, or black with lighter complexions.

I smile, until I realize that they have altered their faces, and painted over their identities with the help of MAC and Maybeline who should be hauled off to the supreme court for Aiding in Identity Theft. Barbie is back, and detrimental to society. My crusade against her was simply a personal vendetta that had been settled between me and her. I had won the battle, but the war hadn't even begun. So, Barbie; I DE-CLARE WAR... is the game that I'll teach my children. They'll stick to Monopoly and Toni Morrison Novels. I Pledge allegiance, and take a vow to keep them away from your message of self hatred. My unborn daughters will never kneel at your shrine, or hope to be like you - or worse; hope to actually BE you. Barbie, you're still dead to me, old friend.

Pecola Breedlove, This one is for you baby.

Where they do that at? ... Twitter.

Because I'd like to believe that the rest of the people who engage in certain trending topics on twitter are beneath me, I'll relieve some of the tension here, VIA my blog, instead of trying to enlighten those retarded individuals on twitter.

Ladies, since you're my core audience here, Have you ever made this statement "I dont mess with that many chicks"?

Well, why don't you?

First there was the darkskin vs. lightskin beef between women, and some men (who clearly have feminine traits) engaged in that idiocracy, but now I'm sitting in front of my computer and I can't believe the public displays of bitchie-ness and rampant spread of ignorance being shown throughout twitter.

It's rediculous that females flat out don't get along with each other and refuse to even associate with other women. If I had a dollar for every female who has said "I don't mess with females like that, they talk too much, I don't get along with them" I think I would honestly have a dollar amount equivalent to the number of heterosexual females in America.

Women; like African Americans, will never be viewed in a positive light until they stop proving stereotypes about us to be correct.

What ever happened to woman empowerment?

Black people blame Willie Lynch, but women, who do we blame for our childish actions? Why can't we get along?

If your a female who has the ideology and belief that association with other females is something that you just could never do (or would never do); why? Why do we disrespect each other by belittling each other?

9/oneofthesedays/2009. You guys actually liked those posts, and I actually liked posting them. Here's an OLDER one (A true one).



He said "We can be friends tho", I just looked at him and whispered in my head "Your not gonna cry, your not gonna cry,this bastard WONT see you cry". I smiled, turned and walked away; up the stairs and to the end of the J train's platform. I had my back to him, but I could hear him calling my name, but I didnt respond or turn around. I had decided after the word friend, I should deleted him completely from my phone and any other types of communication I would have with him. I deleted him from my head, from my life, NO...I deleted him from my reality. He was no longer a real person. His voice yelling my name out had completely went over my head and vibrated off the walls of the trainstation that seemed so empty.

There were hundreds of people walking through turnstyles, swiping metrocards, boarding trains, smiling, and laughing but im alone. Lonely cold, and wanting to just close my eyes and sleep this feeling off. It was december and I wanted to sleep until April.

My train was coming in.

**DING DONG**
--This IS the Queens Bound J train, This is Broadway Junction Next Stop the train conductors voice seemed to trail off as i left reality and wallowed in my thoughts. I didnt hear the end of what he said, but I was sure it was Alabama Ave. Then the Van Siclen stop. I stepped onto the train, but turned my head just in time to HIM walk up the stairs, his eyes were dodging back and forth to see if I was still on the platform. He couldn't see me. I slowly stepped off the train as he hopped on. "He thought he would catch up with me, but hell no" I thought to myself.

I managed to step off right before the doors closed. I stood on the platform and felt a sense of independence, and accomplishment. I dont know why, but I felt good about giving him the old shake and bake. He wasnt about to be on the same train as me trying to start this "friendship" thing that HE wanted. I watched the train loudly pass by and threw on my headphones, hit shuffle on the iPOD; first song... "I can't see 'em coming down my eyes, so i gotta make the song cry". How appropriate.

I Love Chucks



The Devil Wears C. Rousseau

(Linden Blvd, In East New York, Brooklyn)

As the sun paints on its never ending blue back grounded canvas with beautiful pinks, purples, and oranges as it does every night before it's bedtime, I cringe. Good Night sun, your bed time comes entirely too early. You tuck yourself in for bed and disappear behind the horizon. Beautiful, they say. Beautiful; I disagree,

Because the thought of you evokes fear in little girls who realized that the boogie man was real; since the first day that their daddy tip toed into their bed rooms to burglarize them of their innocence and borrow their hopes with no intention of returning them. He'd replace their dreams with nightmares. They pray for your return and eventually you come back, but you play with the strings to those little girls' hearts. Peek-a-boo, a game they enjoyed as toddlers, they'd rather not play with you. Stay they beg you, until you disappear behind the horizon once again. Your bed time is entirely too early, and your absence is way too long.

Sunset, beauty they see, beauty, I disagree. Sun, you treat us like the New Guy in the NBA, You sleep on us, but Dwight Howard is proof that you shouldn't, because while your sleeping all kinds of things are being missed. Like misplaced mothers on street corners and in crack houses. Misplaced fathers who promised not to work late, and he kept that promise only to cheat on mommy, which means in the years to come I'll be choosing between Christmas at moms and Thanksgiving at Dad's or vice versa. Sunset..... Beautiful, you are not.

You hide, and like roaches in project buildings, the corner boys come out. They roll blunts, beginners at origami, they only learned one shape, and perfected 4 moves. "Open, empty, fold, roll". I see more art in their technique then I see in your disappearing acts.

The Sun Sets and Its Beauty they see; Beauty......I Disagree.