*Breaking from the political to post an essay I wrote for a Chinese pop music class. I’m proud of it, so here it is!” Omnipotent Youth Society – Source; Youtube Pop music is a special form of art. Between the formulaic simplicity, we often hear certain anxieties of the context in which it was produced… Continue reading The Importance of Ambiguity in “The Boulder That Crushes The Breast”
So you probably haven’t seen me dancing for a while. If you have, I’ve probably grumped on you about how fucking racist this bloody scene is. *sigh* Anyhoo, here’s an explanation of why I’m done with blues dancing, and there’s an extremely high chance that I’m not coming back. This post has been sat on… Continue reading Why I Stopped Blues Dancing
Oh dear. I am quite absolutely, positively, unequivocally, deeply, terrifyingly in love. It seems that after years of patience I have found myself a guy that I actually like. He blows my socks off; he is delectably woke, astutely adventurous, furiously intelligent, and stoically kind. His heart is so pure. He wakes up each morning… Continue reading How To Fall In Love
There. I said it. I’m tired, I’m done. I want to clean my hands of this shit, shave off my afro, buy a clean white body to wear so my intellect won’t be questioned each day I walk into class. I want to never have to talk about race again. I’m bored of having the… Continue reading I’m Tired of Being Black.
So tomorrow I leave the City, and it feels like it will be for good. I’m just moving across the Bay, where the grass is a little greener, and the trees breathe real air, but I know I won’t be back. I’m moving away from the big buildings with minute, claustrophobic apartments, away from the… Continue reading A Love Letter To San Francisco (or Bae, I’m Breaking Up With You)
It feels more finite than other birthdays. I feel more like a woman than girl, more adult than child. I was nearly shocked upon receiving gifts, because I’m a big girl now. Do I have time for birthdays anymore? I am afraid because time runs through my fingers like sand. It’s easy to reflect on… Continue reading On Being 20
Class is over. I’m hungry. I go to the clean, polite Wholefoods down the street from my College, and I choose what I want to eat. They have gorgeous smelling soup. And macaroni cheese, sweating on a hot plate. And tatter tots. And potatoes cooked with rosemary and olive oil. They have delicious bread. Cake,… Continue reading I saw a black kid try to steal a pizza in Wholefoods, and it broke my heart