I am a djinn.
I would rend the sky,
Bring floods to the desert,
Even blackout the day,
Any terrible thing you could imagine,
If only you would speak the words.
I am jealous of the Sun, Who fils you with warmth. I am jealous of the Rain, Who touches you down to your bones I am jealous of the Wind, Who's fingers run through your hair, even now. I am jealous of the Earth, Who you trust to hold you up, when all else fails. I am jealous of the Eyes, Who have had the chance to behold you, for all your life. I am jealous of the Words, Who've never failed to make you laugh. I am jealous of the Lovers, who've you've allowed to open your eyes. I am none of these things. I am secret. Something that you can hold, That you can cherish, But you may never love, Out in the open.
The Void with The Voice is a new project, I’m going to be writing and acting out. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been MIA lately. I’m trying a drastically different writing style than I’m used to and for that, I’m gonna need to put in under a new header. This doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop writing here just that a lot more of my stuff from both projects will feature on here too.
This is going to be a lot of fun. I’m interested to see how my readers react to such a different thing from me. Please go on this journey with me and join the Dark Denizens.
I remember all the times I forgot flowers
That time we tried to shower
Neither of us staying clean
I’ve let you go,
The smoke of that loss
Gone before I knew….
The thing I miss most is the
apple pie you made.
That shit was almost worth
Your crap attitude and your shit ass friend
A vision that blots out the rarest pigment sunsets
Or mountain landscapes
Is there truly beauty in those things,
When apparitions of divinity walk along the Earth on two legs?
Does the moon but reflect the sun?
While their intellect out shines the rise of Helios.
There’s beauty in many found things
but perhaps in a muse that finds itself.
Can vibrant, Autumn leaves
or soft, downy snow
string words together that compel
writers desire to tear their hearts out in envy?
Will a zephyr or the avian song
bring chills with notes stagnate over millions of years
or the symphony composed
from a compassionate soul
who ne’er take life’s pleasures for granted.
Is it hubris to compare one
to both earthly and celestial wonders
but I am ever so confident that I know the right of it.
For what could be held in such regard
But the vastness of beauty in a mortal vessel.
What is a stage but a pedestal
They belong to life
An actor to the stage
And I just want to play the part that’s belongs to me
I want to surround them
To pull them into me and never let go.
That would satisfy only for a moment
A split second of selfish desire
It’d bring the whole thing down around me
Isolation and freedom in ruination
That I could have just one piece of them.
What would I do just to know.
Just to understand.
Just to know their name.
Things have been pratically unbearable at work and honestly the only thing that’s been getting me through is writing every night. I’m shattering my earlier records and really putting my all in this. I want to take up freelance writing I hope that’ll help me improve. I know I probably say it enough to make it cliche but I feel like I’m getting better but I won’t stop.
I have a friend that’s always trying to get better and I want to be like them. Plus they have given me a special bit of motivation. Find someone who will give you that boost that’ll fit you. It’s hard for me to get motivated by myself but knowing that I have to turn in my progress to someone who’ll praise me when I do get something right and not scold me when I don’t do it has really put the onus of progress on me.
Mechanically, the way I put my sentences together seem to be improving. I’m always listening to new stories to see how they bring things together how their dialouge work furthers their character growth and trying to understand the story structures I like. I opening up old works and trying to hone them a bit better. One day they should see the light of day. Please be paitent with me dear readers. Good luck out there!
They poured sunshine and flowers into a glass
Two cubes of memory to chill
A shot of anticipation
A chaser of catharsis
Just what I need to take the edge off
Sorry it’s a short one today but, there’s a lot going on and I will definitely have more material coming soon. Good luck, Readers
I actually did it. I followed through and wrote a part two. Now that probably isn’t surprising for you guys but, if I’m honest my drafts are an absolute mess. I’m going to jump right in with my next couple of pics.
This YouTube video made me consider what Blackness is as a concept. Maybe I was a bit ignorant when I considered only African Americans as Black. Black is British, French, and anywhere else our people are in the world. I was reluctant to count them amoung because many of them seemed to be reluctant to count themselves among us. Seperating ourselves and gatekeeping really ruins our collective power in the world.
Cynthia Erivo’s self-hate tweets were classist, discriminatory, and White Supremacist. I don’t want to go over the whole thing but, it started with people getting up in arms about a Black British Woman playing the part of arguably one Black Histories greastest heroes, Harriet Tubman. Sitting there watching the movie with my mother, Super Hero Harriet Tubman was terrible. Please don’t pay to watch that movie. I’m not saying pirate it but, if you happen to find it lying around… Watch the movie, that made me question everything I knew about Mrs. Tubman and not in a good way
Now this book took me on a wild, contemporary, contemplative ride in the most urban of fantasies. With bit of plot there was cojent comentary on something to do with race, economics, immigration, you name it, if it was about the social justice of our world today then this book spoke on it, and well.
N. K. Jemsin might become one of my favorite writers, weaving in ideas that make your brain itch in the best way. The characters she gave in We Are The City Now are of viewpoints I haven’t heard yet. From an ederly, lesbian native woman, to a Middle-aged Black ex-rapper, a plus-sized, Immigrant woman and a Black, Queer sex worker expierencing homelessness. These characters were interesting in not just who they are but, in the diversity of lived expierences. It was a breath of fresh air and gives me the idea that my characters should be more distinct. I want more diverse characters in all types of fiction, so everyone can be seen.
While I don’t agree with everything that MelinaPendulum brings up in her video, I think it’s important to think critically of the things we love and for me that’s Brigerton. She speaks on the diversity, colorism, and that scene. I hope Brigerton fixes some of the problems in their next season. MelinaPendulum is great her takes are whip smart and continue to be one of the many places I go to to hear other Black people speak on pop culture.
Training school for Negro Girls scoured my soul. It was stomach churning, wild ride. Multiple times I felt a despair and defeat that was a different flavor than the one I was used to. I had to put it down many times just to make it through this collection. If this is how it feels to be a Black Woman… Then I have learned a bit of humility.
I say all of this not to deter you but, so you know what you’re getting into. This is well written and the kind of art and writing I only hope I can achieve. This work echoes with emotion and a matter-of-factness that gets to heart of what Camille Acker is trying to say. I hope if you choose to check it out you’ll have as challenging a time as I had.
There are others I haven’t gotten to but, these are some of the ones that have impacted me the most. The Black voice is beautiful and poingnant. We’re seeing it in more places and finally seeing a finally see the diversity of opininions and that we are in no way a monolith.
I might go back into more depth into some of the things I covered here. I haven’t gotten to Malcom and Marie or Black Judas yet and I know those are gonna be bomb. Maybe that’s how I’ll finish everything out.
I don’t own any of these pictures. All images hold original copyright, no copyright infringement meant.
What do you do when someone puts into words a fantasy you didn’t know you’d long for? I mean everything else around you is just so complicated and this seems so right your breath catches. Is this what affairs are made of. Can two unattached people have an affair?
Have you ever wanted something so much you felt guilty? Like you were somehow cheating on all your dreams, things you used to want. Now you’re typing this and you can’t forget the words they said… Were you just settling for a life you thought you wanted?
Maybe it’s a pattern for me. Is it weird that I knew I wanted to write books in elementary school when someone else wrote one? Maybe I only wanted something because I watched someone else enjoying it. While that might be how it started, I know writing was made for me. Finishing a page makes me happy in ways I didn’t know I could be. The closer I get to completing a project the better I feel about my abilities. Now if only I could finish something.
Okay readers, I hope the start of your week goes well and your tax returns come swiftly. My friend is starting a new job and I’m so proud of her. It’s just nice to see that her hard work is finally being realized in the major way it should be.