I have a tumblr account now
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
I caved in. I opened up a tumblr account. Now my attention is divided amongst several outlets. That's the beauty of the internet. Anyway if you're on tumblr here's a link to my page
tarralu
This blog is still my baby tho so I will still keep this account. Just felt like joining the tumblr family and expanding...
tarralu
This blog is still my baby tho so I will still keep this account. Just felt like joining the tumblr family and expanding...
Yesterday I Cried
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Yesterday, I cried.
I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes, unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry.
I cried until my nose was running all over the silk blouse I got on sale.
I cried until my ears were hot.
I cried until my head was hurting so bad
that I could hardly see the pile of soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.
I want you to understand,
I had myself a really good cry yesterday.
Yesterday, I cried,
for all the days that I was too busy,
or too tired, or too mad to cry.
I cried for all the days, and all the ways,
and all the times I had dishonored, disrespected,
and disconnected my Self from myself,
only to have it reflected back to me in the ways others
did to me the same things I had already done to myself.
I cried for all the things I had given, only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished, only to give them away,
to people in circumstances, which left me feeling empty,
and battered and plain old used.
I cried because there really does come a time when
the only thing left for you to do is cry.
Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because little boys get left by their daddies;
and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;
and daddies don't know what to do, so they leave;
and mommies get left, so they get mad.
I cried because I had a little boy,
and because I was a little girl,
and because I was a mommy who didn't know what to do,
and because I wanted my daddy to be there so badly until I ached.
Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because I hurt. I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because hurt has no place to go
except deeper into the pain that caused it in the first place,
and when it gets there, the hurt wakes you up.
I cried because it was too late.
I cried because it was time.
I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know
that my soul knew everything that I needed to know.
I cried a soulful cry yesterday, and it felt so good.
It felt so very, very bad.
In the midst of my crying,
I felt my freedom coming,
Because...
Yesterday, I cried
with an agenda
-Iyanla Vanzant
I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes, unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry.
I cried until my nose was running all over the silk blouse I got on sale.
I cried until my ears were hot.
I cried until my head was hurting so bad
that I could hardly see the pile of soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.
I want you to understand,
I had myself a really good cry yesterday.
Yesterday, I cried,
for all the days that I was too busy,
or too tired, or too mad to cry.
I cried for all the days, and all the ways,
and all the times I had dishonored, disrespected,
and disconnected my Self from myself,
only to have it reflected back to me in the ways others
did to me the same things I had already done to myself.
I cried for all the things I had given, only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished, only to give them away,
to people in circumstances, which left me feeling empty,
and battered and plain old used.
I cried because there really does come a time when
the only thing left for you to do is cry.
Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because little boys get left by their daddies;
and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;
and daddies don't know what to do, so they leave;
and mommies get left, so they get mad.
I cried because I had a little boy,
and because I was a little girl,
and because I was a mommy who didn't know what to do,
and because I wanted my daddy to be there so badly until I ached.
Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because I hurt. I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because hurt has no place to go
except deeper into the pain that caused it in the first place,
and when it gets there, the hurt wakes you up.
I cried because it was too late.
I cried because it was time.
I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know
that my soul knew everything that I needed to know.
I cried a soulful cry yesterday, and it felt so good.
It felt so very, very bad.
In the midst of my crying,
I felt my freedom coming,
Because...
Yesterday, I cried
with an agenda
-Iyanla Vanzant
"Torture"
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I'm a lazy artist. I like to procrastinate. I'm telling you, this piece been sitting in the corner patiently waiting for my attention. I sketched this out last October or November
Torture..
Well since I decided to start focusing more on my portfolio, I decided to finally paint it. The process gave me a headache
went from white lips to purple
to white again...
Ms. Toni Morrison speaks the truth
Thursday, April 21, 2011
You think he belongs to you because you want to belong to him. Don’t. It’s a bad word, ‘belong.’ Especially when you put it with somebody you love. Love shouldn’t be like that… Could you really love somebody who was absolutely nobody without you? You really want somebody like that? Somebody who falls apart when you walk out the door? You don’t, do you? And neither does he. You’re turning over your whole life to him. Your whole life, girl. And if it means so little to you that you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to him? He can’t value you more than you value yourself.
—
Toni Morrison
Alone With Everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.
there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else
fills.
by~Charles Bukowski
Quote for the day
"Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life."
21 months locs
Sunday, April 17, 2011
So eh strange but usual phenomenon happened to my locs. They started thinning at the roots. Frontal weakness. I combined some of them at the root. Figured I can always sew them together in the future. But...
they already unraveled.
Sigh
It's slightly stressing me out because I really don't want them to break especially since they're weak at the roots. I twist my locs only once a month so I don't know if that's still considered as "over twisting". I really don't know what to do. I didn't think I'd start having this problem anytime soon. Anyhoo, here are some more pics
Sigh
It's slightly stressing me out because I really don't want them to break especially since they're weak at the roots. I twist my locs only once a month so I don't know if that's still considered as "over twisting". I really don't know what to do. I didn't think I'd start having this problem anytime soon. Anyhoo, here are some more pics
Well that's it for this month. Sowwy it's not one of my golly "I LOVE MY LOCS" post...I have to figure out what to do about my weak locs and the best way to combine them...
For Women-Ursula Rucker
Thursday, April 14, 2011
For Women
My skin I brown
My hair is platinum blonde, today
Burgundy tomorrow
My nails is long
I know no sorrow, cause
Ain't nothing I care to know, but…
where my check so I can get my tix for the Jay-Z show
And
I do aspire to be a video-ho do
and I know
Pop-eye got shot last night
But
that's how it go, in da ghetto
in da ghetto
What do they call me?
Read the tattoo on the left breast
My name is…Lexxus
yeah girl
my name is…Lexxus
get it right
My hair is platinum blonde, today
Burgundy tomorrow
My nails is long
I know no sorrow, cause
Ain't nothing I care to know, but…
where my check so I can get my tix for the Jay-Z show
And
I do aspire to be a video-ho do
and I know
Pop-eye got shot last night
But
that's how it go, in da ghetto
in da ghetto
What do they call me?
Read the tattoo on the left breast
My name is…Lexxus
yeah girl
my name is…Lexxus
get it right
My skin was young, so young
It burned and tore
My hair was pressed and curled
and tied with ribbons that Sunday morn
September 15, 1963
I screamed
In the basement of the church, I screamed
The last day I would ever see
Ma and Pa would never know the woman I would grow up to be
I was an involuntary offering for humanity
Why did they hate me?
Why dey hate me, so, so, sooo
What did they call me?
Four Little Girls
Four Little Girls
It burned and tore
My hair was pressed and curled
and tied with ribbons that Sunday morn
September 15, 1963
I screamed
In the basement of the church, I screamed
The last day I would ever see
Ma and Pa would never know the woman I would grow up to be
I was an involuntary offering for humanity
Why did they hate me?
Why dey hate me, so, so, sooo
What did they call me?
Four Little Girls
Four Little Girls
My skin is tough
This woman
This
Lunch and home, mistake and love maker
double shift worker
sometimes warrior, sometimes weak
This wife
This single soldier
God-given, God fearing, God doubting
This, bearer of wisdom and fruit and pain
This
once girl…sometimes still
saint, sinner, teacher, multi-tasker, friend, this everyday wonder
This…woman
This…nation-builder
This…raiser of leaders, of losers, of babies, of boys who will become men
Girls who will become women
This…woman
Some call me mama
Hey mama
Hey mama
Hey mama
This woman
This
Lunch and home, mistake and love maker
double shift worker
sometimes warrior, sometimes weak
This wife
This single soldier
God-given, God fearing, God doubting
This, bearer of wisdom and fruit and pain
This
once girl…sometimes still
saint, sinner, teacher, multi-tasker, friend, this everyday wonder
This…woman
This…nation-builder
This…raiser of leaders, of losers, of babies, of boys who will become men
Girls who will become women
This…woman
Some call me mama
Hey mama
Hey mama
Hey mama
My eyes are a rainbow
I reflect the spectrum
I have seen much
My heart weighs heavy
Even with joy I feel so much
My hair is electric
I am ablaze, I am the source
I can feed you or starve you
Breath life into you or bleed you
I can fuck you or love you
I don't care how they call me
I know who I is
Call me…
crazy, divine, Ma'at, true honeybun, Supreme Pontifica, electric lady, holy prostitute
I don't care what you call me
I know who I is
I know who I is
I know who I is
I know who I is
I is…
Mammy, mulatto, welfare mom
Matriarch, mid-wife
I IS
I reflect the spectrum
I have seen much
My heart weighs heavy
Even with joy I feel so much
My hair is electric
I am ablaze, I am the source
I can feed you or starve you
Breath life into you or bleed you
I can fuck you or love you
I don't care how they call me
I know who I is
Call me…
crazy, divine, Ma'at, true honeybun, Supreme Pontifica, electric lady, holy prostitute
I don't care what you call me
I know who I is
I know who I is
I know who I is
I know who I is
I is…
Mammy, mulatto, welfare mom
Matriarch, mid-wife
I IS
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