Beneath The Benevolent Sun

It started with one phone call from an unknown area code, then over the next few days the calls became relentless. Twice a day, seven days, from two different numbers on both my cell phone and home phone. With every missed call followed a voicemail on each device. Usually, I don’t bother to listen to voicemail’s, however, I decided to be an obedient twenty-three year old and follow up. That’s when I realized it was her! She has been notoriously known for decades as dark gray clouds looming beneath the benevolent sun. As you see, what was once a shadow ingeniously creeping from behind when I nourish my face in the warm sun is now hazing every corner of my being. An inevitable event when one chooses to follow the ideal path of society. The grave rumors about her power, a power that can cast a vanishing spell on you financially, weekly or bi-weekly. If you haven’t figured her out yet, her name is Donald Trump–I mean Sallie-Mae. She found me.

I had just freshly showered when the time neared a half hour past eight. The morning sun still young yet strong with her rays illuminating my messy room when the unknown–well, now, well known area code appeared on my cell phone. I cursed the air before I answered, “Hello?” This time her voice was deep and masculine trying to ask if it was I who was on the other end on the phone. Like, don’t play stupid with me. This ill-famed monster has been tirelessly sending her minions out to harass me every chance she gets. She know’s who I am. I know who Sallie-Mae is. Let’s cut the crap!  Of course, the topic was about a payment I was unsure of, in fact, I did not even know a payment had past let alone start! The new voice asked for my way of paying, either debit or credit. I should’ve said stripping, prostituting, occasional drug dealing. Sniffing coke to cope. “Debit,” I said. I forward all of my information when it occurred to me he may possibly be charging my card immediately!

“Wait, are you charging my card right now?”
“Yes.”
“Wait a minute, damn did you even see if I can pay right now! I don’t have the money at the moment.”
“I can push the date back until the thirtieth, but you need to pay before you mess up the co-signers credit score.”

Fuck. That means my mother. I hung up the phone, sat on my bed to pace my breath before I wet the tip of my fingers. fixing my posture, trying to be a big boy, I starred into the morning sun about to hide behind the building. It was something I wanted to do a the moment. Crawl and hide. Yeah, it sounds very immature. You’re probably saying how I need to man up, deal with it, it’s life, and all the other evasive sayings. The matter is, I don’t believe in that way of living: Suffocating under loans and debit while making income that barely scratches the surface, because I want try and find myself, solidify my identity the past six years. I’m only twenty three. I’m only twenty three.

I am only two decades and three years in and already I have IRS and his wife Sallie-Mae down my throat choking my prime years and other bills…Yes, other bills. Food, grooming, clothes, hobbies, school, phone, transportation. In other words, I see how depression is very profitable to the Big Pharma. Not saying I am there….yet. On a positive note, there is always good food. That will always be there.

 

The Past Discombobulated Months

The Past Discombobulated Months

The tragicomedies of my life still prevail! The last–I don’t know, six months has been marinated in molasses having me feel like I’m swimming in mud. I won’t even dare equate it too sweet like honey-dew. I would be lying like politicians. I had to subside on the blogging due to the daily clutter. Yes, I could have updated during the desolate work hours, however, half of my mind will constantly remind me how I should be doing school work instead. “You know all this energy you put in celebrated Mariah Carey’s song release, you could easily start your paper…and go to class on time,” my thoughts said undoubtedly. Did I listen to myself? Of course not, do I normally? Sometimes. On that particular day I just didn’t. Instead, I randomly posted an entry like a random boyfriend who unexpectedly vanished from home coming back to his relationship like, “Hey girl!” Clearly, my stats responded, “Bye Felicia!”

The precarious relationship between me and college worsen like an infectious wound. Leaving me in a deadly quandary, I had to meet with my academic advisory after being put into my last probation, “You know I’ve been trying to contact you last semester also, we were suppose to meet and speak about your grades.” I believed she lied. Although I may not always check my school email, because it’s very annoying to remember to do so, I don’t recall at all! I rolled my eyes in my mind at that statement. Whatever, anyways, she continued on about signing a promissory note that included my academic plan and what my GPA should be if I plan on to survive in that school. “Honestly, you got into this school by the skin of your teeth,” she said as I briefly explained my interminable struggles of college, including my dismissal from my last school. “Had you sent your college transcript from your last school, you wouldn’t got in.” Yeah, she is so right, but colleges want my money.

This lady probably in her late twenties, early thirties tried to reason with me through my explanation desperate to find something that will vindicate my poor grades. “So what happen that causes this?” she asked. I lifted my head up looking to the ceiling pantomiming my speechlessness with my hands and face. I couldn’t come up with a solid, plausible reason why. “Honestly, I just hate college. These loans make me question how much I really want my career. No one is forcing me other than myself and society making me feel as if college is the only way!” I ranted, “These classes are extremely uninteresting, you guys don’t offer much after radio, emotionally and mentally I feel stifled. I pay so much money to still walk into a radio station feeling inadequate.” I couldn’t be any more frank with her. The meeting went on to her concluding how internally inflicted I am, how I should really reconsider college, and so on and forth. With all things considered, I signed a few papers, promised I’ll do well and meet with her weekly for checks up. I assure you I did not attend those weekly meetings. In addition to, she wanted me to speak to my professors about my grades. I left that meeting trying to forget all that just happened to hear my heart like a siren.

Henceforth, the rest of the month followed by trying to take on too much on my plate like I tend to always do. I started a radio internship, while still doing another internship, which swallowed my Tuesdays up–my only open day. Luckily, my mom was able to drive me to Brooklyn in the mornings to my radio internship. It’s been low-key sweet; a nice one-on-one time with my mom. Also, I had the usual work and school added to the list. So, my schedule told me I had no days off. And I didn’t, for balancing school, two interns, work and some social life was emotionally draining. I started to think I was doing too much…maybe I was, though, I continued to persevere.

Meanwhile, I went through my typical emotional downpours which lead me to think I needed help. Reason being, when people asked how I was doing I felt like crying on the spot. I felt myself literally faking the smiling, saying “I’m okay.” My body in an exigency to express my truth. I wanted to say so badly when asked, “I am not okay, I feel horrible, stagnant, money-less, lost and so forth.” This has not happened to me before, mainly because when asked I don’t feel the issues at that giving time. However, in that bracket between November and March, it became really hard to compartmentalized my nerves. I started noticing people asking me if I am okay; I believe It was starting to be visible on my face, which, yet, again, is not usual. This will happen during the rare times I am not talking and my mind is bounded in tumultuous thoughts. I was a ticking time bomb or a dam collecting droplets from every upheaval, whether it be from missing my bus, some dramatic turmoil with my partner, or doing some paper, I was at the edge. I told myself plentiful I needed to speak to someone. With tiny bits, I expressed my ongoing issues with me and school with a few friends who been through therapy. I sought out for a counselor, but it never pulled through. Eventually, as I knew it would, I lifted myself out of the funk. I tried concluding the reason to be the warming weather. I tried so hard to pinpoint the downpour thinking it was just a multitude of unsatisfied areas.

Be that as it may be, I am glad this is all passing. I don’t believe my school is going to dismiss me, my interns are ending, school is ending, and I joined another radio program. Through speaking to a dear friend, I realized I am in a much better position than many people with a degree. Comparatively, with my job, radio internship, and program, I have skimmed my field closer than those whom graduated. She told me not to rush myself or be too hard as the process of adulthood molds me. Things will fall into place as they have been in the midst of my strife’s. Though, I am trying to transfer into the school that dismissed me while learning I have a 15,000 balance from my current school with no loans I can take out, due to my grades, I know things will work out.

I swear when I left high school, I was not expecting all of this.

In response to State Your Fear 

The Prom Picture of 2010…Five Years Later

I sat in the living appreciating this rare moment in which I was in solitude. It’s a rare time when my young brother leaves for the day and my mom is out for work simultaneously.  I laid across the brown leather love seat closest to the window with my up legs against the arm of the chair and my head against the other. I placed my nook down after spending some time reading “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed. It’s such an inspirational work of art that causes me to reflect on my own much more, or much deeper I suppose. I resonated with another human taking about a brave task to center herself in the natural world, hiking through the snowy alps of her memories, with the attitude to keep on going. I stared out the window looking at the building adjacent absorbing the midday sun. It didn’t look like it was cold outside since I’m warm and the sun rays were at its peak for the day.  I got up still listening to the silence of the house accompanied by my thoughts. I made way to the brown wall unit that held the flat screen TV framed with pictures of the of me as a kid, awards, fancy ornaments given from friends that traveled, but one picture stood out the most. I was only looking at the wall unit to see my reflection. Me wearing my multicolored tights of red, yellow, orange, green, and blue. It sparked the sun light and the glass window on the furniture reflected it. I tried doing a dance move fixing the posture reminding myself again how my form and precision sucks. I needed to take professional dance classes immediately.

I glanced down and saw a picture of my prom of me and my distant friend Tammy, who lives back in her hometown in Canada. I studied my face shaking my head at the split image resemblance I had of my father. We both shared the same strikingly bright smile with deep dimples and naturally straight teeth. The gene that brought me many compliments and possible wooed people over. The gene that always cleared me at the dentist without typically brushing my teeth twice a day everyday and flossing. I smiled thinking I look older, but not much older. The date across the picture sealed in album says, “THS PROM 2010” I thought, “wow that was five years ago” and I wasn’t pleased with that thought. I bunched my lips to the side feeling a sense of pity for myself.  I kept thinking what the hell I did or accomplished this past five years and I couldn’t a finger on it. Although small accomplishments were made, I did feel like I should be at a better place where I am at now. Honestly, I am. I am just not satisfied. For when I look at between 2010 I saw many changes.

My rareness of my smile has now dampened. The left side of my face undergo facial weakness soon after that prom picture was taken, that at one point it completely took my smile away from me. It has yet full restored, I do believe it will in time, after I start a healthier eating lifestyle. The picture was taken on my left side profile and it occurred to me also I was able to hear out of both ears. That was taken away from me, as well,  after a major operation in 2013 which made me look like Vince Van Gogh for Halloween. Then I funneled into a negative thought spell even more.

What was I doing for the past five years? I couldn’t pinpoint an answer. Other than feeling like a totally failure or a stagnant being. Stuck in mud. Chained to a leash that illusion me of making progress and when I wasn’t. I felt like I did nothing but fail at college over and over. I already got kicked out from a community college for failed grades. I hated school and still do, but at the time I honestly wasn’t certain on what I wanted to do. However, I sure did sounded like it. “I want to be a weather man” I would say to other people to me sound like I had a solid direction like everyone around me. I gave me parents the safety belt while making me look good to other people. I claimed to what seemed probable to me. I had this long deep desire for tornadoes not understanding is not the broadcasting weather I want to do, it was just simply going to the great plains to chase a tornado. That specifically. I didn’t want to know the chemistry of weather. I joined my first relationship broken then every before at the same time in college. With that I thought that community college right in the garbage and did not care. I had no friends there, all my close friends were gone away to school, and I stopped doing my hobby to sustain my first job and college. When this relationship came along I had to be in the mindset that it will make everything better. That my life will give color again. The taste of freedom, love, and consistency will be given to me by once person to compensate the state I was in. So I grasped all of that while waving college I hated goodbye.

I put my time and energy into that creation for the next four years, switching to another school failing at that again for not wanting to be there, and getting fired from two jobs back to back, while trying to understand my wants and needs in the mist trying my hardest to fulfill the ramifications of another. Lets add also, trying to succeed in my hobby that challenges you emotionally, mentally, physically, and my wallet.  I looked back at my relationship and really think I failed miserably.

I don’t know if the feelings stated play apart in the long feeling of inertia the burdens my back and day-to-day activities, but when I look at that picture from 2010 I couldn’t help myself but to funnel in this pool of mess and low self-esteem. The unexplained lethargy have embodied my much more these past few months. As I trying to heighten my sense of self I do understand I have to come to terms with myself about many, many things.  It’s like opening wounds so they can heal properly, but being much more content with slapping band-aids when a reopening occurs. That’s mostly what I have been doing prior my self-awareness journey; point fingers, blame, forget, runaway.  I know how my thoughts gravely affects my mood. My thoughts influences my experiences, my thoughts can heal and destroy, manifest, I know I am an unlimited being connected to all.  I know, I believe, I witnessed. I know my power. It’s point in which you stop just knowing and start apply what I know to better myself. It’s that purgatory between knowing and doing.

Writer’s Block Party: Food, Drinks, and Confusion For FREE!

Daily Prompt: Writers Block Party

When was the last time you experienced writer’s block? What do you think brought it about — and how did you dig your way out of it?

Well before I start… COME OUT TO THE DAILY ANNUAL WRITERS BLOCK PARTY FREE CONFUSION! FREE PANIC ATTACKS! FREE DEPRESSION! FREE FOOD AND DRINKS! FREE NO KNOWN WAY TO GET OUT OF IT

Everyday @ anytime! located on In Your Mind Street Between the Devil and Inspirational Avenue

Come meet local mourners around you and celebrate one of the most forgotten writers diseases in history of inscribing 

That’s it, just wanted to promote this event.

So… To  answer this question I am currently in a writers block and have been for the whole summer. Why? Well, because I want to start on my memoir and don’t know how to begin. Also, I don’t want to relive some of the most haunting memories. I just know I have a great story to tell. I don’t want to spell all that I am going to write in that book on here. Then, I don’t want to update nonsense. I want to update quality that is going to attract people. This is not Facebook and Twitter.

Yes, Daily prompt helps to a degree, it helps me stay relevant. I don’t like to feel forced to write or write about what some one else suggested. I want my blog to be organic.

I figure I have to read or experience more so i have something to write about. This is so not the journey I thought blogging will be. I never really experience the pressure of writers block until i started blogging. Well I never really took writing seriously prior to that.

I figure if I follow, read more write more, I can write more, I don’t know.I know I am still in a writers block. So I cant even say how I got out of it.

LOST

I am lost like never before.
I am confused like never before.

I am uncertain.
I am not content.

. . . .

The freezing wings marathon across my eye lids lifting the tears off my eye ducts.
Self induced tears.
Words in liquid state.
. . . .

Walking to this bus stop in so much pain and anger. Two hours early the alarm rings off at 8:45am walking me up from a sleep that was not long and deep, but rather short intervals, many in an hour. The sleep being a result from going to bed at 1:00am concluding a day drenched in uncertainty  and confusion. That day Wednesday was unprofessional. I strive in distress to make it to class on time. I got there late and quit. I hate school  education institutions called college. To work afterwards is too much, too demanding from be being free and simple.
I don’t know what to do.
I’m so confused.