“Name” is queer and brown. today is indigenous people’s day and national coming out day. you betta believe this jota is takin the day off. shout out to all the jotitas coming into their own skin. adelante mij@s!

So, that if anything, lifted me up this morning/afternoon. This is the type of inspiration that I don’t get from graduate school. The type of inspiration that comes from the trenches, that comes from the heart, the gut, the soul, the pit of your stomach … the inspiration that’s bold and demanding. The fight in the struggles of queer communities, the fight in black folk before black folk got comfortable, the fight in community projects where your hands get dirty, your body gets sweaty, it’s hot out, the sun’s out, your white shirt is now gray black brown – useless in any other situation that doesn’t require you being dirty! Shit! That’s the type of inspiration I want … and man, I love the privilege that this place gives me but this place has no heart. It has no soul. It just is what it is, no root, or at least not a root that I’ve been culturally and historically a part of. Whose torch am I fuckin carryin? … anyway, this is it for now.

It could be a number of things =) I’m happy about whatever the reason because I feel the love… back to work! =o)

But this is pretty much a privileged outcry, right? I should be overly satisfied and grateful that I’ve been rewarded with the possibility to attend grad school. I know. At the same time, academia is changing and it doesn’t guarantee the perks that it did even ten years ago. It is a breeding ground for competition – which is fine because I like competition (I’ve been an athlete up until college). At the same time, there’s something off but I can’t put my finger on it. I’m semi-convinced that when I leave this place, I’m gonna explore something else – who knows what? Who knows where? Maybe I just want the simple life. Maybe I want to be able to just pay my bills, have a roof over my head, nurture my spirit, and thoroughly enjoy those who are around me. But someone’s gonna tell me that that’s not enough because in this culture, nothing is every enough. And the only people who aren’t overly searching for more (perhaps searching for more in a difft way tho) are those who are forced to stay where they are because of life circumstances, structural inequality, or whatever.

Once again, my spirit is silenced and told to sit to the side while I finish this degree. I have like 3 more years? Something like that. I’ll need the utmost amount of patience and rose-colored glasses to get me through. At the same time, I’m gonna enjoy sleeping in this nice, warm apt that grad school allows me to live in … I guess we call that a silver lining?

Maybe I should’ve considered the Peace & Justice program or the Community Engagement one? But who knew…

So yeah, that’s about it for today.

Attraversiamo! into the day =)

Anyway, so I’ve been thinking lately because I’m in a place I haven’t been much. In this “quarter” period I’m feeling more like an island than ever before. For the past double digit years, I’ve always felt like my best friends [one just texted me as soon as I typed best friend -an obvious omen or evidence of our telepathic abilities (i think that's telepathy?) ]- and I were the ultimate and epitomic (okay, I made it up) model of best friends – even if we lose contact, we’re still there for the very important parts – childbirths, break ups, make ups, weddings (still waitin on this one), loss of loved ones, birthdays, breakdowns, need of a designated driver, graduations – you name it! We’re kind of there at those emergency times, too. Like the ones where you pray after a very long time because it seems the only option … well, sometimes, we’re that. Still, I always felt extremely connected except for a short period except for those short periods when like 2 yrs or so would go by without really talking to each other. But we were living our lives – working, school, boyfriends, travel, etc. The idea is that you come back from that and nothing feels like it’s changed.

Well, what happens if it’s not that easy? What happens when there isn’t just a physical time a part but somewhere along the line, it’s like a different time a part, not like emotional but some other intangible emotion. I don’t know what it is but it just feels present – like the God thing, so maybe I’ll say it’s the energy.

I connect this with the “quarter life crisis” because since this feeling is so foreign to me, it’s like is it an opening for a new period? Like the period when those tight friendship circles open up and grow and become like a wiry ridiculous shape without a name? Where young girls become women and tackle their own dreams – despite how different they may be from one another’s, no matter where it takes them physically, emotionally, etc.? I don’t know, I don’t know what it is but in this regard, I feel like an island.

If you were stranded on an island and you could take any one thing (that couldn’t be your safety net – of best friends), what would it be?

And I don’t know.

So yeah, that’s it for right now

So how do I fix it? Omg – Idk. (<— shit like that gets on my nerves)….

I just – I mean in one way, this makes me all about equal opportunity, right? But is there a way I can flip this to become an equal opportunity person with love? Can I love all these people? Because in some way or another, all these groups affect me or are a part of me. It’s not a mirror thing at all, as in, I don’t like these groups because I don’t like myself. No.

It’s more like, people who are super elitist don’t find room or value in the words of people who are for whatever reason, in their imagination, beneath them. I don’t like that people with money or some higher level of income, think that everyone beneath that bracket is poor. I was raised in a house where the combined income was around 60k and I never went hungry or  missed anything that I didn’t need. At the same time, I feel like because the needs of the underclass are never discussed, that the working class are the people on the bottom – not a lot of money, but bills are paid (probably late), but all n all you make it. However, this part does irritate me about myself because I assume everybody is working class, including people in the lower class who may or may not be able to get their bills paid, who may or may not be able to have to focus on what I can focus on, who may or may not be a good person but have to hustle just to survive, literally….

Oh! Who I didn’t mention, I’m so tired of this whole Black woman syndrome shit that keeps coming up. If you don’t want to date a Black woman – go about your business and don’t, what’s the point of ragging on the group in public??? Just don’t say shit. The same thing for example with homosexuality, if you don’t like it – don’t be gay!! If you don’t like Black women, don’t date them and stfu up about it! Go one with your life – do you really need to put dirt on my name to make yourself feel better in the public light? No!!

Ok – I just haven’t written anything in a minute. I’m done for now.