the first half of the feminist vision was to bring women into the workforce. the second half of the revolution was to intergrate the men back into the family.
suzanne braun levine:

dating a man, is as excruciating as a root canal & as delicious as well.. a chocolate cake. now, there are things about being with obasuyi that are such a delight: the constantness of companionship that wraps my being. the fuzziness and deliriousness of the touch. the playfulness & sensuality of
coming together. the possibility of communion-ness.
the breaking of bread.

i'm realizing to my dismay(!), i know absolutely nothing about men. it's not that dating for me is new. i've been doing this for a very long time. yet, when i look at this man, im speechless and at loss. because inasmuch as i pride myself in knowing,i realize, chica, i know nothing.

& as we continue flowering into another month of knowingness, i hold myself real tight not to run as fast as i can, away from this teacher in the flesh. i am so tempted to do so: fleeing. & yet, i am tired and my feet are weary.

so, how long, can i keep running?
not long, they answer...not long.

last evening i had a verbal argument with my roomate. it all began with listening about him on this station.
actually thats not entirely true. that was the icing on the cake. it all began simmering after ln informed me that if she'd vote it would be him because of his values.

i was frozen for a minute. i couldn't help myself but think of ways by which this message of love was hikacked by folks who are not propelled by love. i was pissed. infuriated and rageful. rather un-christian like, i know. & i did meditate on it later on & apologised profusley afterwards.

i don't want to come from a place of anger, rather that of compassion. i know that we are all spiritual beings having a physical experience and i don't want to get too caught up in the physical-ness of things. i admit, it is a great, great challenge to be queer, ex- mistress, who is fornicating with the love of her life, non-christian & living in the same roof under constant judgement. & being reminded of the great commision. what's up with that.

once, in my teens, i was saved. it was a different kind of salvation.i liked the singing. detested the preached. teffied and immensly curious about the slaying of the spirit and speaking in tongues. adored the rosary and statue of mary. & wondered incesstantly what was really up with mary magdalene.in essense, i was looking for transcedental highs under the cloth of conformity.

so, i kinda know whats up with the spiritual quest. it's just that christians, or anyone else for that matter are not the only ones inhabiting the earth. & it pisses me off that there is this instance of righteousness that floats around.

phew! i had to say that.

i'm falling in love and it scares the shit out of me. that and its absolutely delicious. like sucking (freudian?hehehe)into mombasa mangoes in a hot, january afternoon. i've spend uncountable amounts of logged wo/man hours: deciphering. deciminating. de-constructing. dreaming. of and about love that i should have my p.h.d by now.*s*

& i realize, to my astonishment that whatever i've learnt from others even though is great practise, cannot be applied in this case. so there i am, rumbling though archives of conversations from girlfriends, ex lovers and recently, with my mother.

my mother. i love my mother very much. i value her more now, not that i didn't when i was younger. nowadays, we are both transitioning into a more organic and verbal space in our lives together. i look at her as a wise crone. oozing with wisdom and sensuality. & practical advice. she is also non threateing. (phew. there i said it. )she is happy for me.to her, companionship is a healing balm. & also, as far as she is concerned so long as it's not a girl, she's fine. (hehehe) not that i'm all out to her..ohh no. its those unspoken things. no confirmation.i pledge the fifth. it's not in my place to do so. especially when we are separated by an ocean and a -9hr time zone.

the committment to continiously wife myself is the best choice i've ever done. & the most hardest. i'm those types of people who mold themselves to suit the relationship. i've always been afraid to be present in relationships lest i come off as being too much. you know, the too much syndrome. the you think too much. or scream to0 much when coming. or you cry too much. or laugh too loud.

last year was a defining time for me. with the re-current illness& the demise of my status quo as a mistress for 2 years, i felt like shit. and feeling like overal shit. i was so ready for a change. & so tired of being so malleable. like water, taking any shape of whatever form.

i've always panted over solitude, cloistered lifes. like nuns' lifes with accessorized stuff (bath tub surrounded by shells. books. fancy writing paper. and music)& from time to time, i delve into the throes of silence. i even imagine myself living by myself, in the woods ala carte thoreau with books, dogs and a small garden to grow veggies and eggplants. then i get the urges. you know the urges to cuddle and spoon. to gaze into someone's eyes other then a dog, to fight and make up. to fuck for endless hours & to fix dinners that backfire. so, i'm not sure whether i can have my cake and eat it, although, i can't bake to save my self.

obasuyi is a gift to my senses. a sparkle of light & an immense sense of annoyance from time to time. reminds of me my brothers all the time. i wrestle with him & thats how i know i like him. african men are a strange breed, & especially those that are raised by their mothers and sisters. there is a deep trenched sense of respect for anyone female. i like the fact that he loves his mother & sisters. also, he adores alice walker. (extra brownie)

what terrifies me is i cry. i cry every tuesday since we started dating. thats weird right?it's like clock work, he says something, or doesn't i say something, he replies, i retort back and in between that, tears. uugghh! though its cool eh..! i'm like if he can deal with my tears (essential tears i must add), then he is a keeper. don't you think.