Tuesday, March 31, 2009

darkness to light

it was the first time i've ever prayed when anyone could hear me.
i'm very funny about that shit.
my prayers have always been encased in darkness,
selfishly begging Him to deliver my at last... kind of love to me
because my heart was too tired of waiting
and my work ethic was too lazy to keep trying.
they've always been inundated by my tears,
begging for the forgiveness i didn't have the heart
to grant myself;
still pleading for that it's so amazing to be loved kind of love
to touch my heart
and make it all alright.
but, i've noticed
for a while
that those clandestine prayers
started manifesting themselves
outside of my unlit bedroom
and away from the confines of my tears--
they ride in my car, in the broad, humid daylight of afternoon;
they hang with me in the morning
when my world's sight is still fuzzy
and i pray a word of gratitude for being allowed to wake.
it's now not so much
deliver the love of my life to me
but more so
i pray that the love i feel is attune with Your will
and the forgiveness i never gave myself
has landed in my heart
with the soundest of anchors.
and today, i prayed aloud
in front of others
thanking you for the opportunity You've given us all
and, for once, not feeling like that little girl
on the outside of the circle.

"it's that old, four-letter word..."

i've never felt this kind of love before.
you'd hate me for calling it love,
but, what else can i call it?
when i value every single solitary word
that you've ever said
even though sometimes you make me think about things
that i would have never had the courage to think of on my own.
i can't wait to tell you
every little thing
that happens to me,
from the person I cut off on I-4 this morning
to the way that one of the kids cried when I yelled at them
to the way my hair looks now that it's growing.
i want you to share with me
all the darkness
you reserve for your own analysis
the things that make you human,
the things that make you not-so-nice
but oh-so-sexy.
i'd give part of me
just to be able to sit on your bean bag every day
and watch you jump around to that one techno song
with no name
and i think it's so cute when you cook for me
and how we can never sleep for long
before we end up wrapped in each others' arms.
i guess i can't tell you
because i know you'll cringe at the word
and its place in our time
but if you look rightly in my eyes...

it's there.

"in the thunder and rain..."

I'm back from Miami. I'm tired as hell and didn't want to go to work today. Didn't want to do much but lie in the bed, but my bed feels nothing like the bed from my hotel room, so my discomfort forced me awake at about 10 this morning.

I made it to work, the sky threatening me with each half-a-mile. By the time I got into a work groove (meaning watching the kids and entertaining them while working on my own work), the sky had darkened into that "Florida in July" look; you know, the one that you see right before you hear that first, disarming boom of thunder.

By the time I had the kids with their heads down, ready for them to take a nap until the group that always uses that back room came and kicked us out, the skies opened and the threat was actualized, as the rain began. First, it was little drops on the roof, and that turned into the hastiness of a necessary rain shower, and then, hail joined the club.

I left my body when it rained; left it sitting there with the kids, and I felt you. I didn't just think of you, I felt you. I felt you in the way the rain falling aroused my body. I felt myself with you, making love the way we always seemed to do, when it rained and clouds covered the sky, just for us, so we could lie in bed all day and love on each other, conversationally and otherwise.
_________________________________________________________

i don't care if you're my boyfriend,
or not so.
come inside of me
linger, play, exist
like the rain pouring
in torrents
leaving soft sounds
in the atmosphere
until the rain slaps the roof,
turned into hail--
the sounds of nature are attune
to my desire.
i don't care if you're my husband
homie lover best friend
enemy,
come inside me
and stay for awhile
until gray skies turn black
and soft sounds dissipate
leaving only
the look of our whispers
and the sound of your sweat
drying between my breasts.

"doesn't matter" 03/31/09 3:25 pm

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

this is familiar territory

when it hurts so bad (so bad, so bad)
when it hurts so bad,
why does it feel, so good?
when it hurts so bad, when it hurts so bad...
______________________________________________

I read in an advice column today that when you break-up with someone, you should write them a letter of all the things you want to say, but then never send the letter, because you don't want them to know that you're still hung-up on them. Well, I'm not big on deception. And as a chick who spent her entire adolescent life writing letters to boys whom would never know (and in those cases, rightfully that they didn't) how I felt, I'm over the whole writing a letter never to be sent stage. I became so very comfortable with writing a long time ago, but writing, for me, was a way to suppress through expression.

Oh sure, I expressed plenty... only to the paper in front of me. But I suppressed the emotions I felt, and they never got a chance to live properly. Which usually lead to them being manifested in other situations. I'm over suppressing my emotions. No matter how ridiculous they may be, or how much I might not like them, they do deserve a chance to live. So that they can be free to progress--whether they progress into deeper territory, or whether they progress into the shadows of what used to be.

Even this is a bit of a cop-out: there's all the possibility in the world that you could read this, but I bet you probably won't. But, in the not-knowing, there lies the possibility of hope. The audacity, as Mr. President would say, of hope. And it is an audacious little bitch, don't you think?

Hope will take your heart on more rides than you can anticipate. Hope will continue to live, even when you try your best to suffocate it and extinguish it. In one of my favorite books (Between Lovers by Eric Jerome Dickey), one of his characters says that hope has trapped many a fool. And some days, I think that's true. And some days, I think that it's the only thing to keep a heart going, foolish and hurtful though it may be. That's probably my hope talking.

But if not for unseen things like hope, and faith, and trust, what would we have? Would reality be enough to sustain us? I think not.

It is said that just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there, and it is also said that things are not always as they seem. I don't know. I don't know. I'm tired of trying to analyze; I'm tired of the hope; I'm tired of the hurt feelings, and I'm so beyond tired of my feelings ALWAYS getting deep before someone else's. How much of a relief it must be to be the one sitting on the other side of the room telling someone, essentially, that you are pulling your feelings out of a relationship. Or, that you don't see your feelings getting that deep. Or, that there's nothing that will make you get back together... even though there was nothing hugely wrong with the relationship.

Hmmm... must be nice. While someone else is standing on the other side of the room on top of dry grass, my fucking leg is trapped in quicksand. And the more my heart pumps and beats, and the more I long for you, the deeper my leg gets in the quicksand.

Like I said before, the frustration will someday go, and knowing that is very helpful. But you still have to navigate through the quicksand in order to get to that grassy side. Maybe we'll be friends. Maybe. Maybe. if i can shut my fucking heart and calm its incessant ranting for the great guy you were to me, and i guess you will get to be for someone else.

Friday, March 20, 2009

relationships & Google

Since this blog is made by Google, I figured I'd post a link to my newest article, since my newest article is about Google, lol.

"Can Google make an "Undo Send" button for relationships?"

Who knows, maybe they'll see my article and make me famous!! Lol. Oh, the shameless self-promotion of a Friday night ;)

Okay, time to go do some more hair experimenting/face masking before bed.

Oh yes, Happy Spring for real this time! Today is the first day of Spring... and it was snowing in New York this morning. You know, with each passing day, leaving the state just seems like such a sad idea... lol. If not for the pursuit of higher education! One day it will pay off... when I'm back in Florida, riding in my white Beemer with white leather...

Okay, enough. Really. lol.

Adios loves,
Mal

Thursday, March 19, 2009

in between the land of dreams and morning

can i just give her a kiss?
you asked, with your head straight
and smile askew,
and i wasn't jealous at all.
so i stood there,
permission granted,
bracing for the impact
when you dropped to your knees
and stuck out your tongue.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

I can't feel my face

It's almost 11 o'clock, and I was supposed to be studying. I said I would study at like 9.

Ooops. Two articles, an email, and hair/face experimentation later, and here I be. Lol.

If you didn't know, I write freelance for Examiner.com, this pretty dope website that features local writers from all different cities in all different states! My feature is relationships/single adventures (duh, lol), but I just wrote two articles tonight in which I intertwined my hair journey with my relationship discoveries. It was spur of the moment, as most of my articles are (that's God knocking them ideas around in my head, no lie!), and I will link to them at the end of this post :) Oh, and just in case you were wondering, when you see "Orlando Singles Adventures Examiner" to the side of the page, with all types of titles and dates, that's my page, my articles, and the dates I posted them. So you can also click there if you would like and access articles that way! :)

So, my head is currently covered in Saran wrap. I put this henna protein pack on my hair and I'm going to see what it looks like in the morning when I wash it out. I have spent so much time this past almost two weeks experimenting with hair products. I also had to re-do my daily moisturizer... I realized that spritz and my hair don't seem to like each other very much. So I poured out the stuff (watching my money slide down the drain, but reminding myself it's all for a good cause), and re-mixed it and put it below the sink. I'm not putting it in the fridge this time, because the coldness and the oil also don't mix very well.

Annnnyhow, I can't really move my face right now--I also mixed together a bentonite mask (the clay + apple cider vinegar), and I put some honey, aloe vera juice, and distilled water in the mix (honey because it's supposed to be good for your face, and I'm an acne-prone chick :/). That honey has my face so freakin hard right now... it doesn't help that I've left it on for over an hour now, but I figured I wanted to get the most effect out of it! I hope it comes off my face... lol.

Okay, this was supposed to be a short post. Just sayin hey to whomever's reading :) and pretending like you're not on my mind

Adios loves,
Mal

**here's the link to the articles!!**
#1: "Do you know what you're putting in your relationships?"
#2: "You don't care what you're putting in your relationships (a follow-up)"

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

"you're one of a kind, you know that?"

i talked to you so long,
even the moon couldn't hide from view any longer;
all at once, it seemed, it appeared,
leaving those little cream colored lines on my wall.
i prayed before my short sleep,
that i wouldn't miss the sound
of your phone call
and the chance to learn more of you.
the words were on the tip of my tongue,
but i refused their relinquishing to the air
between our phones--
i thanked God for you.
i let the thought swim around my head
and slip through my veins to my heart
where it pulsated and grew,
and it is my sublime, sweet, silent wish
that even when you've found your place
in the world--
senator, presidential candidate, representative for justice,
world traveler, do-gooder for mankind--
that you can still find the time
to lie in the darkness,
approximate miles apart unknown,
and let me learn more of you.

Monday, March 16, 2009

"it's just one of them days; don't take it personal"

You should have let your perm grow out before cutting it.
********************************************************

Now, I know I'm reaching a very wonderful period in my life. I'm reaching a place where I am starting to take the things people say less personally. (wow! who would have imagined?!)

If you know me (which is a phrase I do not take lightly), you should know that I have always taken things to the heart; way too personally. I'm a sensitive soul, and have been since birth, with a heart that I proclaimed a few years back, to be simply way too big and way too open for this world I was placed in.

So, it's always been very hard for me to let things roll off my back. You know when Jay-Z came out with that song... go on, dust your shoulders off... yeah, never my look. I internalized everything and never really connected my internalizing with my periods of deep pensiveness, or discomfort, or anger that I would feel toward people I felt guilty of slighting me.

It took me meeting someone who quickly and deftly recognized my pattern of internalizing everything to really start this revolution in my life; this growing into an individual who can now not only understand that everyone is different and that not everyone is going to have something nice to say, but who can also bring my body's physiological reactions to reflect this as well.

Sometimes, when people would have something to say that I deemed ignorant, or rude, or conceited, or misinformed, or cruel, my body would have a reaction--my ears might burn, or my mind might replay what they said over and over again--I would be so upset, but I wouldn't say anything about it. I had a hard time trying to determine, as a "southern" female, how I could get my point across without being considered rude or too forward.

Although I had my times before when I had to educate someone on something that they said, today I noticed the difference. Before, when I would speak up, it would be because I took things too personally; thereby, my reaction, though warranted, in the long run (to my eyes) would look a little over-the-top. Again, not my look.
******************************************************

I was getting ready to leave work today, and a couple of people were standing at the front. Everyone hasn't seen the TWA (teeny weeny afro) yet, so I'm still getting people that are like, "oh you cut your hair." Today, I got another one of those why'd you cut your hair questions with a slight frown, as if to say, eeew, why would you do that? Instead of getting offended, or taking it personal, I didn't even have a chance to think about it because I joked back with the person, and asked them why they had to turn their face down like that when asking me about my hair.

And then, a complete stranger of a woman told me that I should have let the rest of my perm grow out before cutting my hair. Before thinking about it, I said, snappily, well, I didn't have time for that. I could see in her reaction that she wouldn't be asking me any more questions. Later, I thought, who in the hell are you to be telling me what the hell I should or should not have done with my hair, but in the moment, I let her comment roll off my back. I have come to learn that I wasn't put here on this Earth to impress or please any man or woman. If I happen to do so, all the better, but people won't always be pleased with what I do. They won't always like me for what I do. And really, I don't have the time, and have stopped making the time to give a shit about people who aren't pleased, or people who take the time to make negative commentary, about anything. But, in saying all that, I'm also very well aware of the fact that for some people, that's just what they do. I can't really take it too personally--everyone isn't going to have something nice to say. God made us all different, and those differences make the world go 'round.

At the end of the day, comments like that still show me that people (who don't even know me like that!) still have plenty to say about something as not-so-serious as my hair and what I decide to do with it. And that tickles me to no end.

...don't forget that boy told you--
get that dirt off ya shoulder...

Adios loves,
Mal

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Going the natural route, Part III

Okay, so maybe it's a little too early to be trying to post some hair progress, but I see a change! Don't be confused by the fact that I have on the same robe--these are a week apart! Lol.

The first picture (on the left) is of me last Sunday (03.08.09) after I cut it and then conditioned it and such. It was admittedly a little wild, especially since all my relaxed ends weren't gone. There are still little straight ends lurking in there! Plus, I hadn't done much for the hair in the moisture department.

The second picture is me today (03.15.09) after my shampoo, conditioner, and hour baby food banana/yogurt/growth oil/conditioner/baking soda/clay/honey deep condition. I was really pleased with the results! I could really see more of a curl/coil definition all over my head!

The third picture is last Sunday, after I washed my conditioner out... I think. It might have been before the conditioner. You can definitely see the coils real nicely, and I was very excited, but my problem was that by the next day, my coils had disappeared. I knew they were still on my head, but they were covered by this dry mass of... hair. As I've discovered in my reading, moisture is the key! But, isn't it funny--when relaxed, I ran from water exposure: I wouldn't dare be caught without an umbrella, only because rain + relaxed hair = hell. But, this is what happens to my hair when you put water on it. Much more beautiful than my relaxed tresses, I must say.

The fourth and last picture is me today, after I washed the deep conditioner out. The coils were definitely there, but they looked... different. They were softer, and they were more noticeable all over my head. I feel like since my natural hair has gotten used to life without my poor relaxed hair dragging it down, the natural hair is starting to come into its own; just coiling and curling up all over the place.

Is this what giving birth is like? Watching your child each day, seeing how different they look with each passing day; their progress exciting you to no end?

Okay, so people with children might want to bust me in the eye for that... but still... I'm in love!

Now, to see if this aloe vera juice/honey/Giovanni conditioner/distilled water/castor oil daily spritz + sealing my ends with Castor oil will work for me! I'll let you know :)

I must give the big ups to Bloggers black girl with long hair and CurlyNikki because from their blogs, I have learned absolutely EVERYTHING I'm saying right now about this natural transformation. Trust, I didn't know shit (!) about natural hair prior to my addiction to digging through their blogs!
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A little Spring time love from the newly short-haired cutie :) I got the short hair on lock, and I'm loving it! Who would have thought?!

Currently on the CD player: "Anyone Who Had a Heart" by Luther Vandross. Mmmm, oh so classic.

knowing i love you, so
anyone who had a heart
would take me, in her arms and
love me too
you
you couldn't really have a heart
and hurt me
like you've hurt me
and be so untrue
what am i to do?

I don't know Luther. I just don't know.

Back to pretending like I'm working the nightly grind. Holla!

Adios loves,
Mal

(Miss A, I definitely put up the pics tonight just for you! :)

nightscape of a highway lonesome

For some reason,
the rich sound of Teena Marie's crooning
about her casanova brown
takes me back to that drive
that never seemed to take long enough.

Many a Sunday night,
I sighed as I veered away from I-4
toward the Turnpike, headed toward Ocala,
never toward Miami.
The sun was never setting,
but always set, done, gone.

Some nights, I had the moon as my company,
as I cruised, my black car blending in with the blackness
of the sky and asphalt.
Some drives were accompanied by my tears,
for a man who was always getting better
but whom I later realized, would never get there,
at least not for me.

Sometimes, it would be just me and my frustration,
knowing I had to go back to a place
that some days I couldn't even stand the thought of,
though I now have to stretch my memory
to try and recall why I hated it so truly.

A couple of nights, I smiled on my way back,
though those smiles never lasted.

Because, as soon as exit 382 made itself apparent,
always faster than I anticipated,
the smiles were gone
and the tears wiped away.
My body tensed,
and thoughts ran rampantly businesslike--
French test tomorrow morning;
final project meeting at Library West;
working the front desk tomorrow evening.

Gainesville always greeted me with open arms,
though I could muster nothing but stress in return,
until this night,
when a song unrelated brought back
those drives with the care of hindsight,
for that routine was wholly and solely mine,
and I'd be lying if I said
that the idea of that lonesome highway
and that hour and half
of just me,
the moon/sky/stars,
the asphalt flying by at eighty miles an hour,
and my music

didn't make me wanna kinda just slide into my front seat
robe, slippers, and head rag only,
and just ride out
to the memories.

the grave reality of a selfish humanity

Okay, so I lied. I had to check my regular internet sites before I went to do any work.

And I was saddened to stumble upon yet another man-shoots-entire-family-then-kills-himself story, this time, from Miami.

What is going on? I know people have always been crazy, and crazy things have always happened, so I shudder to blame it on the times. In the Bible, in Ecclesiastes, it is stated that "nothing is new under the sun," so it really can't be that these things are just new.

But, I just don't understand. What could ever possess you to just shoot people? Maybe because your life ain't going right... so you decide it's everyone else's fault, including your own (I guess?), so you kill everyone you see, and then take yourself out as well?

When did this become the right answer?

I just don't get it. When I was a kid, these type of stories were the grim, horrible exceptions to my young news-watching. Now as a young adult, these type of stories are grim, but the norm.

And guess what... the childhood news-watching I'm referring to was but a mere decade ago.

Damn.

Adios loves,
Mal

"I think I'm in love, again..."

Man, let me tell you, it's fun to be in love with something that ain't goin' nowhere.

Scratch that--it's amazing to be in love with something that ain't goin' nowhere.

That something being my hair texture.

Yes, in case you didn't know, I cut my hair last Sunday. I was so done being scared of what my short hair would look like on top of my head, and I chopped it myself with the scissors I bought myself. And since then, I've been having such a fun time! I wouldn't have believed it (even though I read testimonial after testimonial about how natural woman after natural woman fell in love with their hair as soon as they chopped it).

I will post pictures later (my camera is recharging), but it's been so much fun. From my coworkers staring at me, mouths covered and eyes wide when I walked into work Monday like everything was typical, to the kids I work with threatening to pummel me because I cut my hair off, to men greeting me when I walked into a sports bar Friday with "good evening my ebony princess, how are you?"

Okay, so I'm pretty sure that dude was drunk, but I think you understand.

The attention, while warranted, I don't think I was expecting. But I really appreciate it. As one would expect, I've had some (very very slight) ignorant/misguided/negative commentary, but I'm not sweatin' it. Because even those comments that are ig'nant or negative mean that you took the time to think something about the hair on my head, and then say something to me about it. Glad I could be on ya mind like that!!! ;)
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Right now, I'm chillin' at my kitchen table, doin' it old school and listening to my CD player. (Which I haven't listened to in ages!) The music of the moment: "Black Orpheus" by Ondine Darcyl. Perfect, perfect, mellow Malorie music for a Sunday evening. I can just see my future self, writing in front of my laptop in my apartment/house/bungalow/whatever, my pet dog chillin on the floor near me; oils burning and jazz on low....

*sigh* I'm back from the future.

So, today, I studied some more for my teacher certification test (next up: GRE... *ugh*) out at Lake Baldwin. I love the weather... makes me never want to leave Florida! The sun had my skin all prickly (though I got a very good tan yesterday at the beach, and yes I said tan :) and the environment had me daydreaming. Earlier in the day, I spent some glorious time by myself, shopping the aisles of Chamberlin's. I love health food/organic stores. I have really come to enjoy them. Bought a lot of hair goodies, and then tried them out later on. I was very very pleased with the results. I would have never thought a year ago, or even a few months ago that I would be putting honey or clay or yogurt or any actual oils in my hair. That would have spelled D.E.A.T.H. for my light, breezy relaxed tresses.

Oh, how things change :)

Okay, back to my job searching/studying/listening to music/daydreaming/trying to tune out the sound of the tv that has now been turned on by someone that ain't me...*sigh* really, back to daydreaming about the future... and playing with the tiny coils that are popping up all over my head, with each hair experiment...

Adios loves,
Mal

dreamclouds

the clouds outside my window are so much more plentiful than you would have liked.
they're everywhere, blotting the sun,
covering the blue in the sky--
they probably wouldn't make for very good pictures.
but, they're still clouds
and still they remind me of the secrets in my dreams;
of lying, exhausted,
clothed in black shirt and gray sweatpants,
protected by the blanket of your embrace--
for a few hours out of my life,
escaping to the heaven of you,
the place where forehead kisses
and dreamclouds abound.

Friday, March 13, 2009

frustration

it'll wash away, she knows.
one day, when the strangers offer their unsolicited commentary
on her smile
and her curve,
she'll giggle again, genuinely, like before.
it'll wash away, like wet paint in a rainstorm,
oozing down the entirety of her,
invisible,
it'll wash away, she knows.
she'll see his face, one day, and rejoice in the human being
he is,
instead of sighing over the thing that could have been.
she'll allow someone else
to taste
the specialness she reserved solely for her--
the way his eyes glint like diamonds needing no sun rays--
because she'll have no choice
but to accept what life says,
but it'll wash away, she knows.
like mascara to tears, it'll all wash away;
the thing that threatens her heart with every pulse;
the shadow that lingers behind her every step;
it'll all wash away,
she knows;
the frustration will someday go.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

goody bag

It was way past time for me to do laundry.
My bag had clothing sitting on top of it, falling to the floor below,
covered in the dust bunnies hiding in the shadows of my closet.
I dumped it all onto the floor,
finding a thin plastic bag within the pile, full of the smoke smelling attire
from our last hazy night at the club.
I poked a hole in the bag, ready to separate the whites from the colors,
when I stopped and stared
at my reminder that things so quickly had changed.
None of the clothes smelled of smoke anymore,
and unfortunately, they smelled not of you, either.
The dark jeans that rubbed their blue onto my shoes
I turned inside out.
The blue boxer briefs that made my ass look even bigger
I threw with the dark colors.
The light colored work shirt that I tossed in the middle of the night
--or was it morning?--
in order to feel your skin on mine
I left on top of the pile.
Soon, they'll be nothing more but dirty clothes
wet and entwined in each other's embrace,
until they are dried and folded
and left to become a part
of some other weekend's memory.

virgin

I sat there in the quiet air of the office,
next to him, as I told him
the thing never told to anyone before.
I, foolishly, thought he would scoff or frown
but he smirked the way he does,
only setting free an "are you serious?"
reassured by two laughs, bursting from his throat and mine,
still quiet enough to not disrupt
the heavy office silence.
I told him the thing never told to anyone before,
but kept to myself
the thing that would have brought tears;
only two have captured a place in my heart
that will forever be tender and kind.
As he will one day see,
he's the second.

Friday, March 6, 2009

"...that I was, fucking high..."

the world is dizzy
but nothing spins.
the haze of smoke seems to linger about the room,
curling around your closet door.
my head tingles;
neurons and synapses in overdrive.
i kiss your lips
and the sensation is likely to send me
over the edge
of the bed
onto the bean bag
where i pull my knees to my chest
and wait on your landing;
delicious, slow, carnal.

Unless otherwise indicated, all words here are property of Miss Malorie

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