Life is an abstract thing pleading tangibility

5.25.2004

GoldyLocks & Candy. Officially


When we first met I was a mere 18 to his 40 years. He owns a music store,Rhythm, down the street from the all girls' college I attended. When I first saw him I thought of the caramel in a Twix. We would talk for hours, me lounging across the counter, lipgloss shinin, talkin Jay-Z and feminism. Sometimes I'd stick around until closing time & he'd offer me a ride back to campus. We'd sit in his vintage Bronco until the stars started blinkin. Once I pointed out my freshman dormroom window, he said, "Oh, so that's where I throw the peebles." Our flirting was clandestine and innocuous, the perfect accompaniment to an unspoken and mutual attraction. We'd go on semi-dates and he'd attend events I hosted on campus. Then came the hateration. Being that he was the only consistant cuteness within walking distance of campus & the provider of urban tunes, several brownies at my white-washed college craved his dirty drawers. Some caught on to us and not-so-casually-or-nicely confronted us about it, individually. Goldylocks thought it best that we cool it so as not to lose any business. I was hurt but acquiesced none the less.

Time went on (like 2 years)...I left school, visited Rhythm less and saw him less than that.

Then one day we went to the movies, our first date since I left school. It was great! We didn't want it to end so we picked up some beers, a blunt and went to hang with my roomie AlmondLaRoc & her grrlfriend BelleLaBalls. Between smoke & spirits I revealed my undying love for GoldyLocks to Almond & Belle as he went outside to retrieve smething from the car. "I think he thinks he's too old for me but, I just want him so bad & for so long!" When Goldy came back he had a couple & smoked a lil'. "I heard what you said when I left. I don't have a problem with our ages. We can do this if you want."
There it was, the open door. Suddenly, I felt panicked and trapped! What could we possibly be to each other: me, a serial neo-polygomist with hopes of children before age 30; he: a 40+ DJ/store owner with no desire for a wife or kids, ever. Would a relationship destroy our 4 year friendship? And if it did, where the hell would I buy my music then?!

Me: "I'll be leaving ATL at the end of the summer."
Goldylocks: "What?! Why?"
Me: "Um, it's just time."
Goldylocks: "Well, we gotta hang out before you leave for good."

We went to see Dogville, an obscure yet original film starring Nicole Kidman. Drinks afterwards. I was on a celibacy kick & loathing myself for it. Goldy was looking fine as ever over the rim of my coke&rum. I had made a decision: I was gonna get wit Goldy before I left the city. He was dropping me off & came in to use the bathroom. This was my chance. All nite I was mulling over what the hell I was gonna say. I've never been a very good seductress.

Goldy: "Thanks. I thought I wasn't going to be able to hold it."
Candy: "No problem."
silence.
Candy: "So that was a great film."
Goldy: "Yeah, really well made."
silence.
Candy: "So...we'll have to do it again sometime soon."
Goldy: "Definitely."
silence.
Goldy: "Well. Give me some love and I'll leave."
long long hug. the pull away. and i go for a kiss on the cheek. he responds to my lips directly. WE KISS FOR A LONG LONG TIME.
Goldy: "I've been waiting to do that for 5 years."
Candy: "Yeah, me too."
kissin kissin kissin
Goldy: "Just tell me if you want me to leave."
Candy: "I don't want you to leave."
kissin kissin kissin
Candy: "Do you want to make love to me?"
Goldy: "You know I do."
heavenly ascent upstairs to Candy's bedroom. the door closes behind us.
the end.

5.15.2004

"It's been a long time. I shouldna left you without a dope beat to step to..."


so here...
Recently over cranritas with Homeboy&KitKat at my favorite bar ElMyr to subject of demeanorsandsuch arose. KitKat: "You're a bitch". Now, I'm used to hearing this & have come to accept it to some degree. I don't mind really. Love me or leave me, fah real. So this post is DEDICATED TO MY FELLOW SO-CALLED BITCHES.
"Fuck em grrl, fuck em, fuck em grrl, fuck em"
Cause see I figured it out. People scared. Scared to be themselves, scared they ain't enuf, and they scared to want to be more like us. I know cause I used to be scared too. Then I was like, "why?" See I'm committed to honesty, for myself and the world. Cause I been misunderstood --guess god ain't listenin to that prayer from no Ninas--tryin to be nice. Then I get trapped into false representations when I'm really like "Hell naw, that shit wasn't aight. Gimme my shit back!" Ya dig? So several new year's eves ago I was I figured that out that nice shit was way back. I mean, I'm southern but not a southern sidewalk, that hospitality only goes as far as my nerves will permit.

And for what? Futhermore, what is a bitch? It's become a very subjective term. mY bitchDome can be broken down in a short list of adjectives: audacious, brave, bold, dauntless & raw. And for those who know and love/hate me, I am divine + feminine = a DiVa! Stylin fine oh so divine...
diva: Italian, literally, goddess, from Latin, feminine of divus divine, god -- DEITY

I was born and raised this way, unabashedly might I add. Seems the general consensus is that being a bitch is something to be ashamed of or apologize for. That all depends on the totality of the individual. I can safely say I'm a sensitive bitch, caring and considerate of others BUT not at the cost of my conscience or consciousness. Fuck em grrl, at the end of the day it's all about truth. Feelings ain't got shit on that.