The Skinny

My photo
Detroit, Mi
I'm in the process. I'd like to expand on that, but it's in the process. I go about my business under the guidance of gut-feelings and universal street signs. I see myself as a very quiet person. Not because I have little to say, only that my abundant thoughts know not where to start. As a child I fantasized about looking through a telescope to give me truth about the world. It amuses me now that what I am doing is looking down a microscope in an effort to reevaluate my holistic position. I am a loner, a drifter, a dreamer.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Again

Inhale. water. Breath.
Your vision is fuzzy and before you know it.
You're floating face down.
Don't it feel nice?
To be so free
from gravitational influences.
We'll never get that
Standing up.

I just applied for a position in Dr. Atkins molecular lab. My GPA is not what it once was, but I hear it's good enough to get into grad school. I hope it's good enough to get me this position. Really. I fucking will hold my breath until I hear from him.

...I think I'm overreacting.

I have so much on my plate this semester. I have exams, I must remember to breath. I still have an assignment to type up, due tomorrow. I still have to study. (I always feel like I'm falling behind.) John wants me to call him and I so sorely do. He must wait, there is work to do.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

My Father Taught Me About Endurance


There is grief in me, but I have no time for it. There are always more pressing matters at hand then the past to focus my light on. Last night was one of those nights where I shared deep conversation with my mother into the late hour. Things you seldom hear in history books became the topic of our conversation and it left a pit of sorrow in me.
I was never one to pray, but the more I know of this world the more I find myself praying for lost souls. For what else can I do when the weight of realization starts to bruise my shoulders? To hear stories about people I know and their painful histories filled with testimonies of death and sacrifice. It hurts me to know so many of my countryman are victims to an unsympathetic government. It pains me to think of my paternal grandparents starved to death, the countless babies murdered by doctors over a technicality, the provocation of our inheritance.
This makes me think all those fabrications of "what if"? What if we did not leave the country when we did with the secrecy of my mothers pregnancy. Would my sister have been murdered? Would we have made it out of the country? Would I have the luxury of human rights. Still I wonder, what does this mean for generations to come? What kind of unexpected incidents will arise in a lifetime that I can understand? How many more people must suffer at the indignities of such cruel men who call themselves "great leaders"?
I don't know and as of right now, I don't have the time to entertain these decades in history. I neither have the time nor the courage to face these episodes lost in the pages of propaganda.

They were reduced. Harassed. Tortured. Starved. To weak to bury their dead. They littered the landscape while dogs ate their carcasses. They ate paper mulch, grass roots, bark. They ate each other. Entitled During the famine, young child dying in the gutter China MAY [1946]

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Be killin' em

I found a partner in crime, which makes her my partner for life. We line 'em up and knock 'em down. Last night was pretty funny as well as endearing. Neither of us acted on our carnal desires, but boy is it flattering the boys who get in line. Our pearly whites and fluttering lids, quite a pair the two of us.
It's a game, really. Are we really looking for love when we already have it among each other and our circle of friends? The love I share with my friends is much deeper and much more profound. It's not the trivial kind of "love" that come and go with each new suitor. Lovers, I have no love for them. They are mice and we have fangs. However, I am fair. I give warning to those who I feel may have a soul (Remember: Dogs have no souls). Be my friend first and I will love you deeply and truly.
I pluck hearts like flowers. Take a moment in the sun to smell them, then discard them for a fresh one. Sometimes I feel like a shell of a romantic; a romantic in every sense, just unattainable by man. The ones I fall deeply for are also spirits and nymphs. I've fallen in love with the wind once before, only to leave me cold.

Oh Cupid, my sweet,
never to be seen.
Take me by your hand.
Illumiated by candle light
I'll keep the blade at my side.
And when you release,
the soft sigh of sleep.
I will betray you with a gaze.
Burning your skin until you wake.
Only to be abandoned at the summit.
All the while my love grows deeper.
For my husband, the mystical creature.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Whoa...

I want to write this down before I forget the details. I might have already forgotten some of them. The dream I woke up to this morning left a feeling in my chest. Overall, I'd say the dominate emotion was love and fear.
My family and I, along with friends and strangers, were hiding from the Nazis. During the night we would have to retreat into these safe places. Sometimes in a building with windows, an attic, or a warehouse. I just remember being on this one floor that was like a loft space in one of the top floors of a building. I could see all the lights and the rest of the city. I found my family and I stayed close to them, just trying to get through the night. This went on for some time and I remember very specifically returning to one of the various hideouts when the sun started setting. I can't remember what I was doing, but I do remember we were in a rush to get to safety and asking if this was dawn or dusk. We had to hurry.
I'm not sure where this frame fits but it was day brake and they found us. They opened the warehouse door and a stream of hall light came in. The crowd of us became divided by this stream of sunlight. I was on the side that had no escape. I was separated from part of my family. I had to push a little kid out of the light, to avoid exposing all of us. With all the stealth we could muster, we would pass the light and move to the other side of the space and advance towards the other side of the warehouse towards cover in case they came in.
In the end, we were exposed. They came in and started their policy of harassment. I left at one point to use the bathroom (strange right? For the seriousness of the moment...) I could hear them outside, threatening us. Like they were playing a game with our lives. One of those if you don't do this, we could very easily kill __(fill in the blank)__. I heard them say, if no one spoke up for Tiffany's, they would kill every single one. I guess enough people did, because I lived.
We were placed into this camp, but it was a very grand camp. It was beautiful, old school decor. Like an old hotel they just made into very strict dorms. I was polite and humble when I asked the officer what to do with me. He told me I was roomed with my brother. I was lead to my room and then again asked as politely as I could if I could take a shower.
I get in the shower, only to find a German already in there. We were hiding from everyone else. He was my lover. I begged him to go, that he would get us both killed. He refused and professed his love. So I accepted it for that moment. The door opens and two German females stick their heads in. They ask if he was there and I said no. They laughed and said they think so, they saw his uniform next to my clothes. I'm afraid by then, for both of us.
There are gaps in my memory. I am sitting with my father and my love is in the bathroom. We are all drinking. Three higher ranked Nazis enter the room and I sit up as straight as possible. I'm scared for all of us. My father won't act right, he thinks we have some kind of immunity because I am involved with the enemy. My love comes out, visibly drunk...I don't remember anything else.
I woke up, feeling the strangest sense of attraction, a closeness to my nameless lover. I am ultimately confused. I had a second dream when I went back to sleep, of a drill Sargent. I felt like he was the incarnation of my Nazi lover. The attraction was overwhelming and mutual, but for societal reasons we had to avoid it.

I don't know what any of this means. I don't really have time to think about it right now, but I surely do not want to forget it. Maybe I'll come back later for an evaluation, I don't even have time to proofread. I just remember how I feel and I am really wondering why, because it feels so wrong.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Comradery


I think I'm no good at this. This writing this. I'm no good. One of my secret fears: all this studying has made me lose that creative part of myself. I guess it's not so secret that I want to keep all of myself intact, although I know we all grow and change. Perhaps I've not lost who I was but during this metamorphosis I've only molted the limiting parts of my consciousness.
I still have my friends, who share everything they have with me. This is Kelly's photography. He's always including me and I was silly to be so mad at him. Blame it on the hormones. What would I do without them? It's not beneath me to admit that I need them, often times more then they know.
Someone to hold my hand and lead me when I stumble. Someone to lift my heart up when I tremble. Someone to turn me towards the sun and recognize the day. Friends to encourage me. Friends who feed me. Friends who become my family.
Tiffany is having a girl, she just found out. She called me early and woke me up. Told me the news and the baby's new name. I'm going to be the godmother! Melissa just made me the mother of Harold, since she couldn't keep him any more.
I still need coffee before I'm functional. Last night's adventure has exhausted me a little. My sister came home and we're going to just chill for a bit before getting back to those books. My sister? She's my best. She just walked out here and said:

"How many of your friends do you know who have sisters who wash their bloody underwear?"
Answer is none and that's why my sister is the best!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Hours of agonizing amusement


This is why I love my professor, and that's just for parasitology. Okay, back to studying hematology


Monday, September 14, 2009

Oh what a feeling!


Oh crap, there it is again.
The familiar tune,
strum from my heart strings
by the fingers of a dirty man.
What can I do but be a flutter?
Be lifted up higher?
Sailing on the warm currents of loving waters.
Oh crap. It's back in my gut again.
Burrows into my other organs
Nestles it's budding life deep in my intestinal mucosa.
I wish I could shit you out
and be done.
but maybe.
Maybe this time
I'll collect you

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Between here and now

Something strange about today. My b ones are restless and my mood is somewhere between grumpy and silly. Maybe I want tea. Maybe it's coffee I need. Yeah, it's one of those insufferable days. The mind can't take a side and sleep is overpowering my few senses. Shut down.
Last night we did a photo shoot. The scene had three people. A girl in a white dress, holding a (lambs) heart dripping with blood that was ripped from the chest of the man kneeling (Jordan) and then there was me. Who was the supposed girlfriend pulling him back. It was a fun shoot and I got to exercise my bitch features. I can't wait to see the finished product. More then anything, I can't wait for my turn with the raw heart. My goodness, I love my friends.
Kelly has got an idea for me and I love it when I'm the only one he wants for that shot. It's a feather
fluffer, an ego booster. I'ma look fab.
I'm coming to a realization. My love life is on the fritz because I can't tell a good egg from a bad. I have no time to expand on that thought. I have class to attend.