My World I Live In

i danced until my bones

felt like liquid gold, and

my pores gushed out

the shimmers that make

black girls shine like cuban

links with the diamonds.

the hot commodity, yet, the value

diminishes because everyone

needed to have one of her,

have her, have her.

i danced until my bones

felt like liquid gold, and

i felt the lights shine off of me

and for a moment tranquillity

took over me, and i didn’t feel

anything.

i danced, i danced, i danced,

i just didn’t want to feel this anymore

i just didn’t want to cry anymore

i just didn’t want to feel like dying anymore.

i danced until my bones

felt like liquid gold, and

my pores gushed out

the shimmers that make

black girls shine like cuban

links with the diamonds.

i danced until i was empty.

and my gold turned into blood,

the doors leading to her soul were locked and guarded. the windows used to peer at her heart were closed and boarded up. no one could see her inner self, and she promised herself she’d keep it that way.

My circle is damaged and damaging.

It’s painful trying to shape the rest of life when the circle ain’t right, but being aware of what’s needed is always a step in the right direction.

Pray for a circle who listens and knows when to talk.

A circle who can see clouds in your life even without a drop of rain.

A circle that says “yes” or “no” with transparency, honesty, and a truth.

A circle who knows your true potential and won’t let you sleep unless you’re reaching for it.

A circle who is gentle enough to show love but harsh enough to keep you going on days you want to give up.

A circle whose “I Love You(s)” outweigh all of the daily hatred of the world.

A circle who doesn’t box you in.

I understand the “self” in self esteem but I also understand the geometry of achievement.

I miss the 90′s.

I miss dumb romantic comedies, coming-of-age angst, and juvenile delinquency. I miss seeing Jackie Chan in all of my favorite movies and as a cartoon character on my broke ass television screen—through a baby crib no less. I miss the heartbreak of seeing the sun go down, and I miss the happiness of hearing that afterschool school bell. I miss missing things that don’t actually matter.

I miss young Christina. Applegate. There’s a bunch of others I’m sure, but she matters the most to me. 20-year-old Jennifer Connelly. The one with the gorgeous eyes who didn’t ask for anything but a ticket out of town. Nia Long holding a man at crisis together as he struggles with masculinity, murder, and pain. I miss Kate Beckinsale before she was—I don’t know—Kate Beckinsale. Back when she was just the daughter of a Beckinsale. I bet you not a lot of people even recognize her father was famous. Not even you. 

I miss Alexa Vega and Raven Simone. And though I miss Christina Ricci, I really miss Hilary Duff—the one that met Casper. We love the other Hilary too—the girlfriend of that secret agent kid, I for some reason can’t remember what his name is—but I like Casper and Wendy more. She taught me it was okay to be friends with weirdos and accept the insanity of those human beings we’re supposed to call “our family.” I miss her before the whole paparazzi thing. You know what I’m talking about. I miss not recognizing how fucking dark the world can get at night. Shit—I miss Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones teaming up as maybe the hottest Latin-Californian couple to touch the fucking television screen. I miss, and I miss missing the things that made my childhood seem apprehensible. 

I miss what it first felt like to watch 5 teens struggle with adulthood. I miss Ally Sheedy, even though I can actually text her right now and probably let her know that. But even that’s not the fucking same…

Because I miss Brandon Lee. No, no, no—I fucking miss Brandon Lee.  I mean, yes—of course—I would never try to act like I don’t miss his father.  Heck, if it was Bruce’s idea to use the soundtrack of Once Upon a Time in The West for a whole bunch of his scenes in Way of the Dragon—that’s all the more reason I love them. Cause if that’s the case, I miss them both ten times more.

I miss Heath Ledger. And not because both The Crow and The Joker seem so alike—but because 10 Things I Hate About You or A Knight’s Tale never could have ever prepared me to lose someone like that. Who the fuck would have thunk it? That’s like telling me that dude from Black Knight would become an alcoholic or something. Or that he wouldn’t really mean anything 20 years after his debut stand up. That even though he basically changed the entire way we consumed comedy by hosting and helping put on new talents—that nigga didn’t mean shit. But, that shit’s not real to me yet… And I don’t think it ever will be. 

I miss Eddie Murphy before he became Donkey. Because at least back then, people could call me a jackass for liking his music. Especially because they didn’t even know he made any.

I miss when rock music used to matter to people.  I miss when it actually used to be considered pop music at that.

I miss… I mean… I guess I miss not being able to recognize I’d be missing all this shit in the next couple years I got to stay alive on this Earth. 

Things have started being less like Martin & Gina and more like Rachel & Ross. Less yellow, purple-haired or one-eyed and more focused on a dog and baby that can speak full sentences somehow. Matter fact, things are just a rip-off of my favorite sci-fi trilogy nowadays when I really think about it. And I’m not even mad about it. Everybody and their mothers love the shit I used to like.

Things just aren’t the same anymore though.  And I’m not really sure this is me being nostalgic or worried about my future or the mental health of the world or anything like that. But I don’t know. None of that shit really matters to me I don’t think. I just—I just wanted to let people know I miss Mac Miller maybe.

And shit—he’s not even from the 90′s.