B: the First Letter of the alphabet

My body, my ice, my cash — all real, I’m a triple threat.

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

THANK YOU

THEY ARE NOT INTERCHANGEABLE (but one’s mind can wander)

WONTON - IT’S A DUMPLING THAT’S ALL IT IS IT’S A FUCKING DUMPLING

YOU CANNOT “BALL” YOUR EYES OUT

THANK YOU.

IT’S ‘SLEIGHT OF HAND’.

IT’S NOT ‘COULD OF’, THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE WHATSOEVER. IT’S ‘COULD HAVE’. SAME APPLIES TO ‘SHOULD HAVE’.

^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!

𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐳 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝

A compilation of my favorite vines by black folks

“I’ve known most of my close friends since I was four or five.  We went to the same schools.  We’d go to the same summer camps together.  So for the first eighteen years of my life, I was never really forced to meet new people.  But last year I went to college in North Carolina, and it was the first time that I didn’t know anybody.  During orientation they had some sort of street fair so that you could meet new people.  I followed a bunch of guys from my dorm there.  I tried jumping into the conversation a few times, but it seemed like everyone was talking to each other more.  Eventually they peeled off, and I just walked up and down the street alone.  That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the semester.  It was the longest four months of my life.  It seemed like everyone was making friends except me.  Or they’d already formed groups and weren’t accepting new people.  I kept hearing other kids making plans after class, and it was a reminder that other people were making connections that I couldn’t.  I spent most of my free time alone in my room.  I’d sleep through entire weekends.  I felt like a broken social person.  Recently I transferred to a school closer to home, and it’s been much better.  There were a few familiar faces, which helped.  But I’ve also relearned how to make friends.  I’ve joined a few groups.  I’ve put myself out there more.  I’m being more consistent with people.  And I’m trying not to take it personally if someone says ‘no’ to an invitation.  I’ve met some new friends this year.  And I’ve realized that being social isn’t really something you are.  It’s something you have to practice.”

“We’ve been together five years.  I wanted a marriage, a family, the whole thing.  But he wasn’t ready for a child.  So I think he was hoping I’d end the pregnancy.  He claims I took control of his life by keeping the baby.  He’s not the type of person to abandon his child, so he thinks I forced his hand.  At first it seemed like he was going to make the most of it.  He told all his friends about the pregnancy.  He took me out to eat.  We had a little vacation.  But that changed quickly.  There was no stomach rubbing.  No asking how I felt.  He started going out a lot, and stopped kissing me goodbye.  Our son is seventeen months now.  We still live under the same roof, but that’s about it.  There’s no physical intimacy.  Very little communication.  He’s always great with our son.  They play together and have a great time.  But there’s no ‘three of us.’  We never go anywhere together.  Or if we do, the conversation is awkward and surface level.  I try talking to him.  I tell him: ‘If you hate me or resent me, just let me know.’  But he says: ‘Quit forcing things.  Let it become what it’s going to be.’  But it’s been eighteen months and it hasn’t become anything.  He never wants to talk about our relationship.  I know that I should leave him, but I just don’t have the courage.  I keep hoping something will change.  Because I always wanted the experience of raising a child together.”

“I’m on the way to buy soft drinks for my mother.  I also fetch water, and sweep, and help her wash clothes.  She calls me ‘boss’ because I work so hard, but I love to help her because she cares for me so much.  She buys me clothes.  She reads me storybooks.  She sings me gospel songs.  She helps me with my homework.  She gives me medicine when I’m sick.  One time she baked my friend a cake because his parents couldn’t afford any presents.  I’m going to buy her a house one day. She’s very dark and beautiful.  I really have a wonderful mother.”   (Accra, Ghana)

“It happened in May.  I was driving my friend’s Mercedes to school because my car had broken down.  And suddenly I got pulled over.  I turned on the interior lights.  I showed the policemen my ID.  I called my friend on the phone and asked him to explain the situation.  But they said: ‘Not enough, get out of the car.’  They started calling me a prostitute.  I told them I’m an artist.  Then they saw my laptop in the backseat, and they tried calling me an Internet scammer.  They asked me to open my computer and type in the password.  I told them it wasn’t possible.  Then they asked for a huge bribe, and I told them it wasn’t possible.  That’s when they cocked their guns at me.  One of them got in the front seat.  He pointed his gun at me and told me to drive to an ATM.  I brought him to this exact spot, and he escorted me to the machine.  I left the car running.  I maxed out one of my cards, and told him that I have go back and get another one.  Then I locked the door and started driving away.  That’s when he started shooting at me!  All of this was captured on surveillance cameras.  I sped away.  I was taking short cuts and back roads.  The whole time I was thinking I’m about to get killed.  When I got home, I found four dents in the car from where the bullets hit.  Afterwards I contacted the police, and they said they wouldn’t even speak to me unless I deleted the story from social media.  I said: ‘I’m not doing that.  I’m a law student.’” (Lagos, Nigeria)

Houston, 15/09

“I’d always dreamed of getting a college degree, but I got married right after high school.  We started having children right away, so it wasn’t easy to convince my husband to let me study.  The one time I tried to mention it, he immediately said ‘no.’  But a few years later we were in the passport office and I saw an advertisement for a university.  I pulled on his sleeve, pointed at the sign, and said: ‘Lets take a look.  It’s only a look.’  That very same day I enrolled in classes.  Each night I’d wait until 2 AM, after everyone’s demands had been answered, and the whole house was asleep.  Then I’d begin my studying. I’d work until morning, wake the children up, and prepare them for school.  Only then could I rest.  It was exhausting but I was so happy.  It felt like I’d gone back in time and my kids were my siblings.  During my third year I was pregnant again, and I was terrified that I’d go into labor during my final exams.  But I got my diploma.  It was the happiest day of my life.  My husband was thrilled for me.  Everything is different now.  I understand the world.  I used to be afraid to leave the house.  But now I feel powerful.  And it shows.”   (Cairo, Egypt)

“My father was very strict with us.  His workshop was across the street from our apartment building, and he’d scream if he saw us peeking out the window.  It was like a prison.  We’d just stay at home, make him tea and food, and watch TV.  Back then it was mostly black and white movies staring Egyptian icons.  My favorites were the love stories.  But it was just a fantasy for me, because my father swatted away all my suitors.  During that time I fell in love with my grandmother’s neighbor.  He was tall, light-skinned, and wore his hair combed back.  I’d pretend to visit her just so I could see him.  I’d wear my loveliest dresses, get my hair done, and stand outside his window. He’d always smile at me.  I was pretty myself back then.  I loved him.  And he loved me.  He told my friend that he wanted to marry me.  But my father married me off to my cousin, and that’s when the tragedy began.  I gave birth to one child after another.  I’ve had to work full time because my husband is so useless.  He’s a total bum.  But I still live next door to my first love.  He has a university degree.  And every time he sees me, he smiles.”   (Cairo, Egypt)

lil matt damon SNAPPED

“I thought I could resist the rat race.  I thought: ‘I’m a unique guy.  I like to mix things up.’  So I fought it for a long time.  I stayed up past my bedtime.  I listened to music really loud in the morning.  I rode my bike to work.  I always tried to find new places for lunch.  I joined a softball team.  I went to concerts on weeknights.  But I just got tired.  I ended up staying later at the office.  And I fell into a rhythm: come home, watch TV, and go to sleep.  I’m not sure I can do this for the next forty years.  I just miss waking up and not knowing what’s going to happen.  It’s never explicitly said to you that you need to live on your own, and have a good life, and meet someone, and have kids, and have those kids be more successful than you are.  But you feel the pressure all the time.  You feel it every time someone asks how your job is going.  Right now everyone in this park is taking a break from the thing they have to get back to.  It’s comforting in a way.  There’s a sense of solidarity in it.  We’re all feeling the same obligation.”