Poetry for the deceased (in honor of those who have fought, struggled and lost the fight against HIV/AIDS)

I think what’s different about living is the experience of wanting and needing things that we can’t have.

Letting desires and temptations control our existence and feeling that what we have isn’t enough; this makes the wants and needs we have stronger. That’s what’s different about living. I feel like I can’t exist anymore.

As the days go by I live a little bit more and the more I think about it the more I realize that there is nothing more sacred in life than the presence we have been allowed to assume on this world.

The reason I began by giving a philosophy about life is because all the weird ways I live mine come from this very one.

Sometimes I’m SUPER DOOPER happy, I want to dance and sing and tell the world that I own everything!
Sometimes I want to cry and yell out why God?! Why do do you want to send me to hell!!
Sometimes I’m neither solemn nor mild, sometimes I’m like a little child,
That just won’t take no for an answer and that little dancer.
Over there starts to walk with her hair down and her posture up and people wonder why I’ve got everything together but,
Sometimes I’m sad, remorseful, full of guilt because I’m waiting for the world we were promised to be built,

Waiting like everybody else for a pinch of what I think I want to go flying through the window,
I was beaten with a kigiko which in my language is called a mwiko and in your language is called a beating stick or something like a gigantic spoon,
By my mum who thought she’d take the liberty of teaching me this lesson of humbleness and guilt,
Because there are far too many people I know and you know who are dead poor, dead sick, dead lost, dead and gone and deader than a 6ft. Deep coffin. Life is presence.

I’ve found the presence of life in my fingertips and I’m wringing it around like a hula hoop but I should stop because the minute I start to consider myself a permanent fixture in this presence of existence.
The minute I start to trick myself into thinking I am existing because I can..then tough shit. I’m as dead and gone as any other bloke out there.

Royally Screwed Over

So, sometimes I think I have a bad omen on my head, in my life. Are omens bad? Should I even say I have a bAD omen? All I know Is I want to shoot myself in the head sometimes. Why do I feel like all the time something bad always happens to me. Or I end up screwing up in some sort of way??!

Today, is one small, TEENY WEENy example of a dramasque messup. My brother bought me tickets for this ballet performance in Boston and I decided I wanted to go. So he also bought me tickets to go and come back to the University Within. So there I am, wake up early to catch the bus from point A to point B and then take another buys from Point B to C. However, even though I was on time for the A-B trip I screwed up big time for the B-C trip!!!

I asked the police officer what was the best way to take the 2nd bus and he said take the free shuttle. So I decide. Police officers are trust wortgt individuals, I trust them with my lives. Ill just go sit and wait for the shuttle to take me to the 2nd bus stop. The shuttle never came and I was running out of time!! Screw those damn police officers! I shouldv’e known-nobopdys knows wtf their doing in life we just try to goosestep eachothers footsteps and hope we get where we want to go. I’m freaking out at this point because screw the police officer! Screw the shuttle! How the hell am I going to get to 2nd bus stop. I need to take the bus coz my brother might kill me.

My coffee spilled all over my brand new white jacket 😦

Next thing I know I’m jumping into this cab and hell yeh, I felt like an independant lady roaming the streets(who’s not a prostitute..) but it was a FAIL. I feel like God was going- no,no,no,no you are not going anywhere(with a weird italian slur that I can’t make out). And I’m freaking out and urging the guy to step on it. The cab driver was a nuisance too though, he kept telling me I was going to the wrong busstop and I was adamantly refusing to admit I was mistaken. Next thing I know we arrive at the “departure area” and he asks for cash. I don’t carry cash!! Ever since I came to the LoO its been credit card babe, n put it on my tab. What do I know about carrying notes around? The cab driver continues to push my buttons by saying “taxis do not take cards” and I wanted to say “negro please!! Where the hell have u been” because truth be told. Cabs do take debit cards and that cab guy was fucking with me. Next thing I notice at the same time this cash-card discussion is going on is that I’m at thew wrong bus stop. It was written columbus not CONSTITUTION ARCH WaY!!

I get into a panic and ask the cab guy to drive there he gets super mad and slams his newspaper on the seat next to him. And keeps saying I told you so. Ok…for those of you who don’t know- I hate when people tell me their right, because evidently I FUCKING KNOW. And also what’s the deal, why u gotta be all up in my frizz when I am going through a major heart attack cause I’m thinking its 10:45, my fucking bus leaves at 10:45!so shut the fuckup stupid guy, no really..shut it.

I didn’t admit I was wrong, I was just insisting he go faster. It reminded me of when I was in the car with mike this summer. Since Mike lives like 2hours away from University Within I used to take the bus and go see him (yeh, I know, I’m an awesome girlfriend). But I also had to go back to school and the only way I could do that was with the god damn bus. Well you can only do some things for so long and one time I left my return ticket back at school and only bothered to check if I had it a couple of min after I left. Mike was freaking out and he had to drive me to the bus stop which is 15min. From his place and he literally wanted to throw me out of his jeep wrangler and watch me get run over by a huge truck ( atleast in my opinion he looked like he wanted to commit murder)…I missed my bus that day and Mike was not at all pleased by it. I remember the feeling of “oh shit, drive faster! We might just make it! Oh dramasque why meeee, whyyy is this happenning”.

Small little sidetrack – as I paced up and down waiting for my 2nd bus I remembered that moment. The thought of my brother killing me, Mike killing me on the phone..was way too sickening. So its about -45 degrees celcius where I’m standing and waiting for a bus that already took off. I knew it, the minute I got out of that cab and looked up and saw a bus similar to the one I was supposed to take drive off, I knew it had left. HOPE is a fucked up word..that most people use when they want to bullshit themselves into thinking the possible could become impossible.. So I HOPED that maybe the 2nd bus would magically spring up from the surface of the road and all would be well.

I told my brother what happenned on the phone and he was extremely angry started shouting screaming..telling me his going to beat me up. It reminded me that I’m not in the Isle of Corruption anymore but were still African, we beat each other up like monkeys on high. My main sense was fear, run! Cry! But thing is, when you accept that you are an idiot especially to somebody who’s abusing you on the phone..your a bigger idiot for disowning yourself. So what? I messed up but if I give up on myself psychologically and tell myself “hey drama you’re a collosal mistake” I’m not me,myself and I. I’m just me and that inner strength I have to keep fighting for myselfs lost to all abuse(physical/verbal) from somebody else. Somebody who doesn’t know wtf I go through on a daily basis.

I stuck up for myself.. So I call another cab company again cause I know I have to haul ass and get my pretty self of the streets and into another bus. Ironically guess who I see passing me right after I get of the phone with the cab company- Fucking star ShUTTLE!!! I almost banged my head. This is when they show up, after all this shits happened. I jump onto the bus completely brushing aside the fact that I called a cab and I start to relax. Because at that point the star shuttle bus driver is talking to me in a soothing tone(if thick russian accent is soothing for you..then you know) and asking me what’s up. The whole story spills out in broken english and as it does I start thinking to myself “hey!this isn’t a bad day, its just a shitty mistake that I’ve learned from”

Once I get to the bus stop one I catch another bus immediately after. And so what! I had to pay an extra eye wooper but lesson of the day is that I got through it. I just need to figure out how to tell my boyfriend I’m the most idiotic human being that his had the pleasure of dating..shouldn’t be too bad.