all the pretty colors

myspace is very scary. not in a bad way. but in a "where the hell have you been/and why did u find it fit to email me" sort of way.

it leads me down memory lane. you know the one where you have to be accountable for your actions, damn that 20/20 vision. where all the colors stop running wild with pink and blue and yellow haze and become black and white. i mean. we can live a certain way, it's easy to be selfish when you dont have anyone else to think about. but when you look back -- and you see what your actions resulted in, its like damn. i suck

and most of us blame it on growing. some of us say - regrets would not lead me to the be the person who i am. and i like who i am. but i say: you might be cool, but that was real fuk'd up, yo. present company included. i have done some grimy ish. things that i'm not proud of. i was too in a daze with the intoxication of attention, liquor and coming into my womanhood - that i didn't care who i hurt. i mean, i didn't go out of my way to try and hurt anyone - but i didnt want the responsibility of someone's happiness either. it was all about ME.

and that thought process paid off in my career. but it crippled my personal relationships. it also paralyzed my hopes for any sisterly relationship with new women for years to come.

i was conditioned to believe:
women can't be trusted
women are sneaky
women are conniving
women are skanky

and then ... there are very few of US that aren't. and god bless the birds in the trees, i've been lucky enough to meet a beautiful array of women that don't fall in the category listed above. but believe me -- i know many that swim in that damn section - backstroke. breath. endure.

i think that's when it became my magnum opus. to break down the barriers between women. after my love/hate experience with the punany crew. after i was cheated on (by almost every boyfriend i had). after all that - i decided. i will find the woman that is me. she may have made mistakes - but she learned from them and scolded them -- rather than let them continue to run rapid like a growing tumor. festering in the brain child of unity. expanding with every eye roll. gossip session. backstabbing finger snapping moment.

its been a long haul. i have found many women that refuse to be a part of the pettiness. then i have met some that make me want to revert to fist to cuff antics, i mean. atleast i know what those results will look like. and in the midst of the frustration. it always seemed like a cool tradeoff.

in this moment of my personal movement. i have been challenged at work. writing for the same magazines that objectivy everything that makes women go crazy. highlighting the worst assets and limelighting asses -- i have pulled my hair out during meetings with editors and EICs. i have fell off the too-short and ice cube bandwagon, though i still can repeat the memorized lyrics of "a bitch iz a bitch". i have talked myself out of writing for a mag that i may not support - though i thought i did/could for the simple fact that they did not have my sister's best interets at heart, even if it was published by a sister.

these lessons are never-ending. but i press on. i still go to the coffeeshop where i am ignored by the women owner. i still received lackluster responses from women when applauding their poetic efforts. i still find the eye rolls in between the audience of mainly women. wondering where it may stem from, is a waste of time. trying to sustain my balance is a feat in itself. i want to revert to my oakland ways and say "BITCH". i want to roll my eyes and not deal with it. but that's just a cope out. art and activism isn't for everyone. but then - i'm not everyone.

i once thought men were the reason for women not getting along. and now i know. they aren't the sole reason (though most of them perpetuate it "girls dont get along", one female per crew of men, etc) we've got to start taking responsibility for our actions with each other.

the way we treat each other - without care. without second glance. that is what will forever replay in my nightmares. those will fuel my insecurities and remain as a reminder of what selfish people will do. i have been there. i have the scars to prove it. those memories are the ones that come back. blaring defined lines of black and white with grey shading. for artistic measure, im sure. this is when i am humbled. when i have to take the bad with the worse. when i have to see what i could've been. when i have to stop pointing at others and start thinking of change.

this lifestyle aint for the meek. preaching is only fun when you dont have to live in the moment. this is my beginning, again. i am full with the idea of something better. regrets aren't for the weak, its for the compassionate. the learned. the self-evolved. this how you become a better women. i'm learning new shyt everyday.