Suprise Visits of awesomeness!

so, yesterday when roasting in bed with a fever and with no voice to even whisper, I lay wondering why it is that this week of all weeks I should get sick, the week of The University Chorale's concert season! bloody hell... a short prayer and braps what happens? GRAMS TO THE RESCUE!!! 

WELL, she made my day, it was a refreshing though short visit. Love you Grams!!!

more details to come 

A little nostalgia

He sits by the window, and stares out onto the sweeping lawns, his house an island in the lush and perfectly manicured expanse of green, waves of crimson and pink breaking at the front and back porches. in his hand he fingers a ring absently. it is an intricately decorated ring, a golden band on which is overlaid a silver rose, its leaves diamonds encrusted within the gold band. A tear falls as he remembers the small of fresh pudding, the air thick with the scent of baking, and the atmosphere full of the warmth that had nothing to do with the oven and all to do with the love so tangible as to incite pinpricks of Goosebumps and stir a contented excitement to overcome anyone within the house's confines...

Thinking on my days, and the escape from an almost fitful night...

      "...To send his precious peace to my soul, to my soul..." I lay in the almost tangible darkness of my room, the confines which keep the world in check while my thoughts reach out, passing over the minutiae of my existence, and the recollections of past and gone pain and grief, glimpses of moments of bliss and interwoven through each experience the emotional band that the memory evokes: from joyous hues of gold, violet and lilac to deepest black and crimson, my mind perceives it all as it transpires as if before my eyes. It is a 3-dimensional to scale model of my world, illuminating my dark corner of the universe with splashes of radiant imagination...
      and in the wee hours of this morning, it was blood red... a dark energy that incites and excites emotions I am unused to feeling so intensely almost unprovoked...and I feel the bile of rage bite at my throat, choking the ability to see reason...frantically, I take a lungfuls of air, and the vivid colour and emotion recede, to be replaced by sadness...the deep aching sadness that seems my eternal private companion...

And I give in to the oblivion of what apathy would feel like...and feel the freedom sap the resolve from my bones. thus comforted, I free-fall into a deep, dreamless sleep...

I guess i'm feeling... feeling.....

Defeated: the sensation of being demoralised.....
This sensation of it all...it all being truly and utterly nihilistic...of being totally hopeless...yea...it Needs to STOP
  -__-
like now...

Sincerely,
Someone with better things to do than be crumpled under this depressing weight...

Oh Lord, Big up to di Jing-Bang dem!!!

Aunt: "yuh lucky yuh neva come home come see di jing-bang* dem"

Me: " O_o jing-bang?"

Aunt: "yuh fada cayliss Ooman dem, full up di house one bag a igleness, mi jus go ova deh an look if yuh room door lock..."

...at this point the conversation turns to a "tear down" of his unscrupulous and lazy ways, me being silent audience...She is summarily joined by my cousin, who confirms it all, responding to her rhetoric and nodding at points where there is no pause. I am boiling inside, as I think of how he has his visitors, who walk through my room and trouble my stuff at will, often then seeing me on the road and interrogating me as if they'd known me all their lives (yep, THEIR lives) because they're intrigued by the wall (I should post a pic one of these days) or intimidated by all the crap he feeds em...then, as usual with scenarios such as this, in steps the accused, wide grin and searching eyes...

"Mi Hungry enuh, weh yuh have ova ya?"

...he proceeds to have the last fish patty (my aunt has half baked patties which she buys as labour-saving meals when she cant be bothered), devours the last of the cream of wheat cereal and again vanishes, off to cavort with the "jing-bangs"-but not before wondering why im not staying over my own yaad, and instead siddung over here a bodda di ole woman dem (He was smart this time to not mention that he had girls there half his age flirting with and would like his "junior" to come play wingman...becuz, fuck no way in hell i'm gonna help my father get into bed with anyone who I myself am older than, or worse yet have them switch and come on to me, as has happened in past *KMRT, ALL A DAT is  for another post*) I simply let my aunt answer...and she did, laying into him so he had only to smile and leave after making light of her stabs... Ahh Bwoy...dis family, *SMH*

* "Jing-Bang"; A young woman (or older woman, as defined by perceived or rumoured desirability) or a group thereof, who seek(s) the attentions, gifts and resources of an ordinary, often foolish man, often at the promise of future physical/sexual favours which they have no intentions of fulfilling.

<Above> A stylised representation of the Jamaican "Jing-Bang"

An Afternoon out...

Today was decidedly A vacation day from my usual topsy turvy pace... the activities began with a chat with a new-found good friend(well, with the makings of Awesomeness) , followed up with a trip to the pool, where I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of three good friends. we proceeded to go watch the Jamaica Defence Force Massed bands concert at the Amphitheatre (Shell Bandstand) at the Royal Botanical Hope Gardens. The music was in many places A.HOT.Steaming.MESS but it was entertaining, what with soloists botching through crowd favourites and the refusal of the horns to play in the same key as the woodwinds, who were determined each to play decidedly above or below pitch for many of the higher notes. It was a great day to step outside of the frenetic pace. I add a short video of us in our picturesque day and a photo, taken by Andre <<the one n the video who shows his tongue a bit too often for a 20 year old (._. ) >>  in which I was so intensely focused 'pretend conducting' (*sticks out tongue* NO one is NEVER too old to pretend conduct) the band in one of the better known pieces, that I look like a complete retard...as in seriously...I was scared by my expression...

but yea...all in all a fun time was had by all.

I am sorry...and thank you

I don't know...I truly don't know what comes in the future steps taken...but One thing's certain I will heed your words...

             "......You rejected my love...Don't reject my forgiveness..."

thank you...

A quote that moved me...

Shared by a friend earlier this morning I felt compelled to steal and share it here...


         "The human heart dares not stay away too long from that which hurt it most. There is a return journey to anguish that few of us are released from making." — Lillian Smith, American writer and social critic (1897-1966)

...Eventually

This word, glorious in it's employ within my daily parlance to denote the time that I will generally take to perform any task or duty which will be of a manner that helps self...eventually...so often I put myself on the back burner with regard to the undertaking or completion of any task: I'll be fine, I can rest after, I will, eventually...Which would ideally be fine if not for the fact that with five choirs and two dance groups, three jobs and a desire to maintain my four hour a night sleep regime, "eventually" never truly comes...


"My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light"

 

-E. Millay, attr. to Roald Dahl

A Disconcerting encounter....

           While walking from my monthly obeisance of paying the bills ( a responsibility that my aunt pawns off to me when she doesn't feel up to being on the road -which is invariably all the time -__-), I spotted (well, was spotted by really...no, lie! I was accosted seems more fitting) Kevin, my childhood barber while walking by one of the more popular local restaurants in Half Way Tree. He had on a very...well downright bizarre expression as he  greeted and spoke to me in a rushed tone that was nothing like his usual self.
         "Yow how yuh do boss?" He ignores the concept of personal space as he walks right.up.into.my.face.
          "Mi good, long time no see, Aunty Donna didn't tell me you moved shops." Which was true, I hadn't seen Kevin for nigh three years.
          "Yea man, deh a Arcade now, did a lie low fi a likkle, all spen' some time inna jail still." This I could've observed. men who are incarcerated for any spell have a somewhat "tainted air" to them (in my experience). and he exuded it in his disconcerting stare and toothy smile - or what would've been toothy, had his teeth not been a yellowing deteriorating mass that I've come to associate with protracted drug use...My heart broke at the memory of his common law wife and son. "Eh," he hands me a card, "Keep di link. Aright? Lata boss." and like that he is gone, walking just as briskly away...and I notice...His gait has changed- which is expected, men who go to prison a rarely maintain a confident stride; his hair is less sleek-groomed, yes, but not "neat"...his clothes hang on him as if he has lost a large amount of weight, which I surmise he has... our exchange lasted in all roughly one minute, yet it shakes me still hours after seeing him...its on these days that I can see credence to the expression:

"...Life is hard...and then you die..."

Me In Movement...Here it goes

Here it is... that I should make a post that showed myself in movement was a suggestion by a friend (who I summarily gave the death stare before being made to do it anyway -__-) but here it is, THE WALK THRU : modern movement and Afro-Caribbean steps. The Music is from the album The Garifuna Women's Project.  Well, here goes nothing/everything then....critique away