Tuesday, December 23, 2008

12.23.2008

7 Years...
Feels like 7 minutes
I'll always miss you.
I haven't "come to terms" with anything.
Things will never be the same.

I love You and Daddy!!!!!
I'llc ome see you later on. Be nice to each other!!!

Proud?

As I make mistakes and suck my teeth
Stubborn, pissed off most of the time
Taking bullshit like I work in a stable
Are you proud of me?
Trying to get comfortable in my own skin
Gaining weight and wallowing in the sorrow of insufficiency.
Always fearing failure
Walking the same walk, talking the same talk that you did
Are you proud of me?
In my darkest hour, when I'm unsure and distant
On my ugly days, when I lay down, cry and ignore my son
When I'm so hurt, I can barely breath
When I overthink situations 'till my head hurts
When I get upset because no one cares
When I miss you so much, things don't seems worth it
Are you still proud of me?
If you could be here would you?
Even though I'm not proud of myself
Are you?

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Anniversary

December 23, 2001
Jackie... we need you. We're just existing and going through futile motions. You know the world ain't the same without your color. Artists are left in a stump. Know that as your day approaches, I'll observe it. Missing you in the worst way.
If I can get a ride, I'll come visit you and Daddy.
Get your beauty rest, mommy. Love You.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Dreaming Again

I recently had one of the craziest dreams ever.........
Just bear with me on it.......

I can remember a good friend of mine calling me out on a rainy night and saying that she wanted to hang out. She came and picked me up in big black van with some other people I didn't recognize. Why the black van... I have no clue. Dreams are crazy sometimes. We pulled in front of a high rise building and went to a floor way up top. As soon as I stepped off the elevator, I had an eery feeling. Why didn't I ask questions before? We (a total of like 8 people) walk into a desolate apartment. There's newspaper clippings everywhere, books, old magazines, dishes, blah blah blah. But I notice that everything is a bit dusty. Everything is also in its place.... almost color/theme coordinated. Too perfect. Someone would have had to spend quite a bit of time on this. It may look simple to some, but I have an eye for disorders. The weird feeling didn't go away; it actually worsened and I began twitching. Finally, I asked, "Where are we?" My friend finally told me that we were in the apartment of last year's most famous serial killer. How we just walked up in there I don't know. Its assumed in the dream that the guy was never caught and he's been a fugitive for a year. I flipped out!!!!!!!!! Cussin' and jiving....
I left in a frenzy...

I hopped in a yellow cab and took it to Brooklyn. In the dream I lived in my old apartment; the one I lived in with Jackie before she died. My boyfriend was waiting for me. It was Denzel Washington. The crazy thing about this is that although I think Denzel is one of the best of our time, I don't look at him like THAT. But here he is. So I begin to take off my clothes and get ready for bed. Spewing about my night, he just listened. Mind you he wasn't there when I left. I lay down in the bed and calmly say, "Damn, I haven't heard from Mommy in a while. I wonder why she hasn't called. Where the hell is she?" Denzel just looked at me. Why the hell was he looking at me like that? I kept on, "You know?... I hate when she does that. What has it been...2, 3 weeks? This is silly. Ughhhh... Well, let me get to these dishes before she comes in and has a fit. " As I got up, Denzel pulled me down and stared at me with the strangest look I'd ever seen. It was as if he was trying to see through me. In his debonair voice, he said, "Bianca, your mom passed away last year. Don't you remember?" More cussin'... WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT? THAT SHIT IS NOT FUNNY. WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT???? TELL ME!!!!! WHY DID YOU SAY THAT??? "It's true, Bianca."


I woke up in tears. What should I make of this?

Why is it that 7 years after her death, I still think I see her in Bloomingdale's. I still dial her # to tell her something important. For a split second, I actually expect her to answer. Then just as quick, it dawns on me. My grandfather still owns our old brownstone. I can't even walk up the stairs past "our" door. I haven't walked up those stairs in 7 years. I can't. Why does it feel so fresh. I swear...its like it just happened yesterday. That same pain I felt seeing for the last day, I can feel it now. I thought it would get better. Sigh. I need a minute....

Why am I trying to make sense of insanity?

What should I make of all this?