Monday, June 27, 2005
Unfathomable acts of a Distorted Black Mind Pt 1
Do you ever find yourself thinking crazy thoughts? Thoughts like if I died tomorrow, would my boss send my favorite flowers to my funeral, or would my neighbors whom I know hate my guts come and see my body? Would my family dress me in my favorite sweat suit instead of an ugly ass funeral shroud? Would I feel death like they do on the movies? I mean after I'm gone, would I feel the casket closing and the world closing itself off from me? Ok, ok, I know I may be freaking a few of yall out, but the truth is, most of us have morbid thoughts about life and death. I'm woman enough to admit that sometimes the thoughts get me high. Not like (narcotic high) but more like surreal high. I wonder if it will really matter once I'm dead, whether or not I choose to speak to my neighbor who happens to be a racist bastard and really can't stand me, but makes every effort to be nice, simply because I'm one of those 'good black people' who knows how to take care of my yard, and I recycle, just like they do. Whopppeeee. so what? Truth is sometimes I'd like to strangle my neighber, and I'm sure he probably feels the same, especially when I sit in my backyard writing my poetry while he's having one of those incredibly 'white' barbecues with a gas grill listening while they all sit around listening to John Cougar Mellancamp while I nod my head to Nas or India Arie. Gotta do a part II on this one, kinda feeling it!
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10 comments:
I do think about life after death. And I think, it would be a safe assumption that just about everyone thinks about it.
And well it takes all kinds to make this world. :)
Interesting thoughts. And some candid confesisons.
thanks for stopping by my blog - always the best part, when someone stops by, is the chance to find theirs. Looks like theres lots of good stuff here to read: I haven't much time now, but will be back to read yours in depth later.
as for death.... it always seems to me like it would be the most peaceful, gentle thing. But then, I enjoy sleeping.
Thanks for taking the time to visit. Nothing better than truth in writing.
I feel you on the random morbid introspection especially pertaining to your own demise. I often wonder if I will die a peaceful death or a tragic one full of pain. Will I be ready for it or run, fighting for my life? Soon or much, much later? Who will cry the most? The least? Who will tell my Internet friends?
My mind sadly renders itself paralyzed by the sheer thought of my death. I’m so curious that it’s sometimes absurd.
I'll push it one step further - truth is the ONLY thing in writing! But its slippery, hard to grab ahold of sometimes. There's a guy I've started reading lately - maddensblog - makes me laugh and I don't know if anything he says is real, or what the blend of real and fantasy is, but it's all true, if you catch what I mean.
anyway, my dinner is in the oven and right now I'm going to settle in and catch up on some of your blog.
later -
You're right, truth is the only thing in writing. We are to write truth, as it happens, as we see it, as it is. I hold on to that as I tell all my blogger friends that I spend a lot of time thinking of what other people are thinking. Weird I know, but well I guess I a little weird.
When thoughts of death pop into my head, I try to push them out. I want to live forever, I kid you not.
As for truth in writing...I keep forgetting to tell you Icy that I too am a writer. Searching for a publisher.
I think a person can use fantasy to discover truths too, what's it called by St. American writers? Magical realism?
As for folks like your neighbours...as Anoop says, it takes all sorts.
A friend taught me that many people carry loads of baggage, and told me not to get offended by them, or I'm helping them to carry their baggage.
GG, that's deep, 'helping them carry their baggage.' I try real hard not too. It's funny that same neighbor is now suddenly in a mental institution and I have been praying for them for days even though they truly can't stand me. I will not fall into helping them be hateful, even if silently.
Living forever, wow, never even considered it, but I've always tried to stay youthful and happy and often death seems far away, but I know it can come at any given time.
Hayden, I wish you the best in your continued journey. Doesn't matter how long you've lived, its what you do with it while you are here! My grandmother went back to nursing school at 62 and got her degree during a time when women just stayed home and had babies. It was her dream, and she chose to make it her reality.
Hey, thanks for checking out my blog and commenting...I appreciate you stopping through to read my ramblings...
As for death, it is probably the only thing that I am really scared of. In fact, I am afraid of dying where I can see death coming. That is why stuff like drowning and suffocating is probably the worst way I can think of passing away...
The thing about death is that even if you are super-religious or something, you can't be sure if there is really anything after this. So we could be just inching closer and closer to the end, where there is nothing afterwards for us. And if so, how is it that we can accept dying so nonchalantly? There are some people who say they wouldn't want to live forever because all of their loved ones would be gone. It may hurt, but I can't think of it hurting to the point where I don't want to live anymore. Just some stuff I think about...
Speaking of your gran going back to school...on Oprah I saw the story of the ex-slave, who at 90-something learnt to read and write, then wrote a book about his life. Inspiring!
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