If this white man offer me a million dollars I gotta be worth forty, or fifty…

And they offered me a million dollar deal, and had the check ready. Said I wouldn’t be able to use my name. I was fighting my brother, because “Man, you shoulda took the million dollars!” I said “No, what you think I’m worth? If this white man offer me a million dollars I gotta be worth forty, or fifty… Or ten or something.”
To being able to make “Forbes” and come from the Projects. You know, “Top 40 Under 40.” Which they said couldn’t be done. Had twenty records on the top “Billboard” at one time. For an independent company. Black-owned company. You know, going to the white lady’s house where my Grandmother lived at, and say, “Look, you don’t have to work here no more Big Mama! We got more money than the people on St. Charles Street.”
And I, I took that anger and said, “I’mma put it into my music.” I tell people all the time, “If you don’t understand my record, you don’t understand me, so this is not for you.

Army of Me

If every threat is (but isn’t)
A boss / If every challenge is (but isn’t)
To diminish me,
What if I realized that it wasn’t
The tutorial fight at the beginning of a
Final Fantasy game /
But that I am my own
Party army party /

my own chain combo
is here,
And when they see it /
They won’t be ready
For my Army of Me

Thank you for helping me see.

Scammers in September, Arrested.

Bad Hair Day patch for purchase, by tittybats

September was a really rough month for me, like a routine Dragon Ball Z beatdown. The kind from all directions where all your senses and defenses are affected. Even when I am not surprised by the lows to which people sink, it’s not as if I’m not affected by it, and I haven’t figured out how to push forward beyond it (not really sure that I want to be numb to that kind of behavior). But I survived!

Today is the start of a new month in the calendar. I have better plans and better back-up plans, and the warmth, wisdom, and love of friends to help me. That foundation is where the blessing bloom and rise to my face, and then the reminders that visit to keep me on track:

May I learn all the ways in which I do not really see me. All the ways I rush through me, past me, over me. May I learn to pause in my presence. May I learn that witnessing me is witnessing myself. The more I do one, the more I can do another.

May I learn all the ways in which my self-obsession inhibits me from being able to experience me as I am, not as I think I should be. May I look for all of the assumptions that I have created. All of the prejudices I have been handed and that I consciously and unconsciously perpetuate. All of the limited understandings of me that I project on to me everyday. May I commit to rewiring my mind to be humble enough to know that I don’t know me but that I am willing to learn about me. May I remember that getting to know me is an honor and a blessing.

May I know where to draw the line for myself. May I remember that being in balance in my relationships requires my ability to first and foremost be in relationship with myself. The moment I forfeit that relationship, I can’t be there for me.

Original by Chani Nicholas for Aries, edits by me for my needs.

Cool stuff I like:
Have You Told Your Parents” by Vivek Shraya for Buzzfeed, on disrupting the unreasonable expectation to come out to your parents.
Racine Carrée Live in Montreal by Stromae

Saudades

Is it hypocritical to miss a place that just months ago you were counting the days to leave? And I remember that I miss a place that has its beauty and small, quiet wonders interwoven with its stressors. I am in love with a place that is difficult to love, and I miss it. It’s not hypocritical – I don’t believe in unconditional love – and I was in a difficult place at a difficult time. It is what is, and I need to let it be. Which reminds me to work hard so I can see it again.

19.09.2016 – Self Reminders

Maybe it was a mistake to think that I wouldn’t have to struggle while taking 15 hours. Maybe it was a mistake to underestimate what it feels like to go back into the States and resume school without taking into account reverse culture shock. Or the feelings of inadequacy and slight hopelessness that come with self-doubt.

But also, I chose this because I know I can make it through, successfully. I believe in my power and voice.

I also realize that what people think of me, my work, my wit, my brain, is literally none of my business and needs to be a non-issue. The funny thing about grad school is that nobody tells you that you need to transition from your status of being an excellent student to being an excellent scholar. The grades and performance culture don’t matter much – you just need to get through and do good work.

September has been a shitty month. Today is the last day I’m going to skip seminar. I need to suck it up what I signed up for, and stand in my shit. I can only go onwards. It will be fun and adventurous, even when it’s hard and I’m afraid.

Messy Blogging In An Internet Wasteland, Revisited

By way of conversation – both online and offline – I have been revisiting my thoughts on the internet. In all honesty, I don’t believe I have departed much from my post a couple of months ago. Currently, I think what I said, about forging our own path past electronic, capitalist waste, is now even more imperative. Everyday I think about leaving social media: deleting accounts, leaving a twitter or tumblr to die, creating such a complex password to my Facebook that I will never be able to log in again. And than pushing it aside because I know it’s essentially impossible: if I want to keep up with my local pole and aerial community updates, if I want to pop in and see longtime friends’ updates, if I have to keep “family appearances,” etc – I have to keep these accounts open. Things otherwise are so much more difficult and complicated; or at least, that’s the trap.

And so the battle has shifted to resistance in some sense. Unfollowing everyone on Facebook so I can only see my posts (are you aware of that creepy thing on your newsfeed that allows you to see posts your actual friends like, of other people?), turning off my phone when I go to a social outing so Facebook doesn’t suggest if I magically now these people afterwards (Instagram too), updating less, saying less, and trying to be less present. Diminishing my “perceived self.” It’s not preferred to write about your entire self, because of the possible material consequences with your employer, your academic community, etc.

The “perceived self” versus who I am has been more of my issue on Facebook than elsewhere, leftover from people who perceived to know me via college. It is frustrating to know that you are a whole human being, but for others to selectively interact with you because you don’t just post cat pictures or food porn, but also things relating to racial discrimination (the so-called “social justice” posts). On some platforms more than others, a non-topical format does not work, and of course, an algorithm pushes that framework even harder into those unconsciously using the platform. It’s why (in addition to the realities of race, gender, class, region, sexuality, etc) when you try to present your real self, the perceived self cracks to the viewer. “Why are you so cold in person when on the internet you’re so alive and extroverted???” Or when you have had your security/trust compromised and decide to cease posting for personal safety, people flock to you to express how empty their lives would be without your posts.

Not empty without you, or even the care for your personal wellbeing. But what you post – your production, your emotional labor. Uncompensated labor instead of intimate space. That deserves to free of charge. An individualized Gawker/the Toast instead of a person who just posts whatever comes to pass. You are cheaper than the 24 hour or less think piece. I’m so fucking tired of think pieces. I’m not a think piece.

Someone once told me that nobody uses Facebook the way I use Facebook. I believe her and disbelieve her. I believe her in the sense that the format that Facebook and other social media platforms do facilitate that environment of individualized Gawker accounts, or at least curated spaces to perform oneself. It’s a form of cordiality culture. I disbelieve her in the sense that everyone is fine with it, or that there is no one else who also hates it and feels alienated by it.

Eline has said to me that perhaps it’s not about resisting anymore, as much as it is about moving beyond discomfort and fatigue, and doing something about it. Making intentional spaces, and adapting to your needs rather than trying to find a work around the current environment. I can this space, this blog, what I need my internet life to be. We can never go back to our nostalgia, but we can always move forward to create what we desire – this is the agency we have in all of this. There was always a “better, easier” time, but perhaps what we fear is that the future could be better, because it is in our hands.

Deep breath.

And now, onwards! I’ll be updating this site shortly. Welcome aboard.

See also:
And Now for Something” via Eline’s blog permae pupa
Is the beauty industry losing its touch?” via Saffron’s blog Saffron Sugar
Hand’s Up If You Have Beauty Fatigue” via British Beauty Blogger
Let the Frog In: On Guilt and Emotional Labor” via Katherine’s blog Just Call Me Shrew
Carmen” music video via Stromae