last night – somewhere between standing on a cold ass corner by a train & passing out on a comfortable axx futon – there was a revelation made. written in invisible ink in the bible i keep in my pocket that quotes me.
why am i who i am?
my homegirl whom i wrote the ‘smoking’ blog about & i decided to connect after not seeing each other since election night when she was dancing on top of the city bus (or a truck) or some vehicle.
so we decided on bus boys & poets after i told her i had absolutely no funds thanks to the recent going ons – and she understood.
bus boys was it’s usual: fake axx intellectuals discussing politics and religion over plates of food they know they really hate. & then there were the laptop users who can never get work done at home – so they come here to check facebook and take up space.
but you gotta love it.
but we just wanted a drink.
so we walked out when we heard there was a 15 minute wait – and hit MARVIN’S.
i told her about all the shit that’s been going down in this life in the past year and a half.
she shook her head in disbelief.
then asked: who do you talk to about your problems?
me: the bartender.
i’m telling you folks, i make this life of mine look easy. i keep a few masks in my backpack to wear.
the truth is still: i am happy 95% of the time. but that doesn’t mean shit ain’t hard.
it just means my spirit is in tact.
so my whiskey sour was on point (in that small axx glass) & her martini was cool.
i realized i miss mingling with the working-middle class folks who keep their work clothes on after work so people can know they have a job that involves a chair and probably a cubicle.
they were all in there having fun, showing off their new scarves and hats and thin p-coats.
the thick ones are coming out in a few weeks. believe me.
it’s getting cold.
and then we got on relationships & flaws.
those of you who know me know that somehow i make it through life with little worry or concern. actually none at all…except in one situation: loss.
then i have some strange feeling that i can’t really define, but it’s there.
so we had to explore this.
and believe me, i’ve been thinking about this for YEARS.
so we go grab a bottle she left at a friend’s in bethesda & then hit her place in SW DC
and we start pouring and going back through the years.
her: when was the last time you remember being emotional because of a gain? getting your degrees? high school graduation? crossing into the frat?
me: none of that. damn. i was cool about it all, but none of it did anything for me emotionally.
her: do you remember the first time you felt a loss?
me: no. well…my earliest memory is from two years old when my parents split. i remember them splitting.
then i sat there, looked at at her looking at me – then i looked out the sliding glass doors, and said:
SON OF A BITCH!
that’s it! the source of all my bullshit.
and it’s so simple and in my face.
that’s my earliest memory. and it’s so random because i remember that, but that’s the only memory i have from 2. the rest of them don’t start until 4.
so we kept pouring the 10 Cane until we passed out.
then i found myself boarding the train with the Hill & Navy & Anacostia people.
it’s 10:00+ and in 3 hours i start shooting the first film of the weekend.
we’re shooting 4 total. mine begins sunday morning @ 830am. DAMN!
too damn early.
but it’s the life we sign up for, right?
i’m taking comfort in this life. not the comfort that kills us…but i’m happy with what’s going on overall.
my friends are the greatest and my family is alright. lol.
who could ask for anything more?
i know who i am.
and i know who i will be years from now.