A little blank in the eyes...

I've always been told that I have a very expressive face, my first reactions to anything (the truest reactions if you ask me) can usually be read in my face and I've also been told you can tell my mood in my eyes.

For a long time I was extra careful to cover up the upsets and sadness and disappointments going on in my life and put on that perpetual smile so many of you know so well that maybe none of you have seen a real one in so long that you can't tell the difference. For a long time I'd be very careful with my "cover" that it never dawned on me that those who were curious could really read me if they wanted to through my eyes.

I've also been told on many occasions that I have sad eyes. I believe pictures taken of me when I don't smile look sad , the sides of my lips are slightly turned down so I thought that contributed to my somber look. I gave no consideration to the sadness that seems or seemed to spill through my stare.

I suppose that may have been where I expressed the sadness, behind my eyes. I used to blame the circumstances that caused my sadness... the death of people I love, the end of some relationships, broken friendships, missed opportunities, but I didn't take the responsibility for the presence of them in my spirit. I never admitted to myself that I was the one that held them in my heart for them to be present in my glare and dwell there so long that it almost became a facial feature.

Its always been a habit of mine, and I am sure its a regular practice of many people, to compare my present situation to ones I've had before. I found myself in a discussion with my boyfriend, (yes I have one of those but that is for another blog, he's a good guy and he's really sweet to me, I hope that puts you at ease until I give you the details) and he said to me that my stare has started to look a little blank and that he's finding it increasingly hard to read my eyes. When he said it at first I was a little confused by it, I didn't understand how it was possible for me to be blank in the eyes.

Then I gave it some thought, maybe I'm blank in my eyes because I've started to let go of the things that made me sad and disappointed, maybe what he saw in my eyes that he was so familiar with was the sadness I carried for so long. I've let go of a lot of things so maybe the absence of "readable content" is just the space made for something better. Maybe my emotionless stare isn't a bad thing, a sign of newly found hope in things yet to come.

Flipped upside down and back around

I was doing so well with the promises I made you guys. At least on entry a month I said last year and then nothing from me in seven months... What a horrible friend. Excuses? Of course I have those and if you're interested I'd prefer to offer them as explanations as opposed to excuses. I don't regret the reasons that prevented me from writing I just wish I made the time to write through them.

Everyday for the past seven months have been centered, at some time or another, around my grandmother. Joyce Winsome McKenzie was born June 14, 1935, she attended Primary and High School in St James, went to teacher's college, entered and won Miss St. James, gave birth and raised 6 children, taught at her alma mater, worked for the government, jumped in Jamaica carnival on numerous occasions, opened and ran her own culinary school, wrote Common Entrance and GSAT math books, traveled to China, Korea, Alaska, among other places, helped to raise her grand and to an even grater part great- grandchildren... I could continue this list forever and through out all her accomplishments and achievements and recognition she was on of the most down to earth, humbled person I know.

In mid July my mother asked me if I would mind going to stay with my grandmother because my cousins that were staying with her for the past almost 3 years were going back to the states and grandma would need some help around the house because of a pinched nerve. No problem I thought I love my grandmother's company. I moved in the very same day my cousins left and my grandmother became my everything.

In the mornings we'd wake up (she would usually wake me up) go downstairs, and make breakfast. She'd go off to work and I'd go off to work and we'd both not say anything much to each other until the evening when she'd bring me home a slice of cake or a sugar flower she made while at her school, until one day it became hard for her to breathe. Now I cant even remember the day of the week really I just remember calling my aunt and telling her to come quickly, they admitted her. There was fluid on her right lung, so they removed it and tested it. She had just completed treatment for breast cancer earlier in the year so they were testing to see if the cancer had spread. we got her home and she was doing fine until the shortness in breath had come back, back to the hospital pumped more fluid off the lung and this time powdered the lung so that no more fluid can gather in that part of her chest cavity. Safe for now, I thought, but I thought too soon. Results from the lab showed that the cancer was back and now in the lining of the lung and lung and was extremely aggressive. I stopped working the minute she was home and spent every waking moment doing whatever it was that she needed me to do, I even started sleeping lighter so that if she called in the night I would be conscious enough to respond. The rest of the summer was much like that and towards the end I got help with her. Its hard taking care of someone you love, its harder when its your full time responsibility and increasingly more difficult when you have to do it alone.

By the time school started I was already tired and began hating the sound of my name. No rest for the wicked. A few nights for the week I took the night shift with grandma which eventually became sleeping in the sofa next to hers and getting up at the strangest hours to make her tea, helping her to the bathroom, helping her sit up, sometimes feeding her and dispensing pills which seems to multiply every time she went to the doctor, and even through all of this I still could not imagine what was to follow.

On the 29th November we took grandma to the hospital. She had stopped eating and it was becoming more difficult moving her. They admitted her to the hospital, put her right back in the same room she had been in the first time we took her there and for one week I could not do anything constructive unless i was at her bedside, I didn't even bother to go to school and if I did make it into my uniform I quickly walked down to the hospital. On Sunday night I kissed her cold hands on my way out to go home. As I put my head to the pillow my mother called, grandma had passed. It was then that I realized just how quiet the house was. I pulled my clothes on and went with my aunt to the hospital and stayed until the undertakers came for the body. Its been one month 2 weeks and three days since she's passed and I have not slept one night in her house alone, but I will tonight. All my company leaves me today, not sure how I'll fall asleep.

Last year this time I was gearing up for my second semester at school, by the way I kicked ass last year... 4.02 GPA. The scholarship eluded me last semester but there are a few more to come. Last year this time my world was almost perfect, still some pot holes in the road but I was learning to hold my own. Now today, today I still think of my grandmother, I sit in her house and wonder if I will ever be as magnificent and graceful and poised as she was. I miss her.

In Loving Memory of Joyce W. McKenzie.

New Consciousness?

Yesterday I mourned the passing of a friend I've had for about 10 years. His name is Oneil Edwards and he was part of a dancehall group called Voicemail. He was shot multiple times at his home while he was going in after a night partying. While I sat 4 rows to the left of the middle exit of Church on the Rock with my eyes sore from wiping away tears with my hands and mu lip quivering like it usually does when I'm fighting back tears my mind started racing.

When I got the message he had been shot and in the hospital I started to think about how we met, and how he and Kevin were excellent at making me laugh and I started to worry about Kevin and Craig. I had flashback from my sweet sixteen and I can remember how much passion they sang with and how hard it was to concentrate on the words of the song because my eyes were just darting all over to look each one of them in the face and I couldn't stop blushing. And I remember my fifth form ball when they sang and I thought these are my boys. My friends and I would call radio stations and request songs and listen to interviews and feel almost giddy when we watched their first video thinking this is it... this could be the big break!

When they became popular I thought to myself why would they want to stay friends with me, regular me who has no status in the grand scheme of things; but I'd go out and see them and they'd curse me out for not coming and saying hi, and made me promise I'd call. They hadn't changed but I guess my perception of them had.

Now my friend of 10 years is dead and I'm stuck with a racing mind. His death will, I hope will, bring a new consciousness to the dancehall industry (it should or what's the point?). A consciousness concerned with what they dj or sing or produce, to transform it to something uplifting and gives hope to those that are so wayward or without guidance that they buy into the arguments that are proposed in the lyrics of dancehall. For me though its a consciousness related to the invitations I send out for people to be a part of my life. I have so many friends, I know so many people that are there for the laughs and there is money in my pocket and we can go to the all inclusive party in a new top and heels but where do they go when I'm crying and if they remember me in my loss does that make them better friends than those who call me to invite me out? What about those who rarely call at all, are they my friends or are they just acquaintances? Am I picking the wrong people to care about, because I'm busy loving a set of people that may not hold me in the same esteem. While I soul search and look for answers I promise to call Kevin more.

Rest In Peace Oneil, missing you already.

Hey :)

Ok so I know I have been a little M.I.A. I have exams going on, one left and its my course... Math. And because I pretty much know I can walk into that exam and pass with at least a B I decided I would show you guys some love and bless you with my presence (lol... yeah right!)

Its been a pretty eventful couple of weeks. One of my friends came down from FLL and I'm telling you its like he never left. We hung out twice, I was prepping for exams and couldn't find much time to do anything other than study, but while we hung out it just reminded me that I really am blessed to have some real, good people in my life and no matter the distance or the time apart I will always have them and they me. Its funny how really good friends never fall out of sync and even funnier how fast the fake friendships fall apart but I won't go there tonight. Tonight is not for that.

So its coming closer and closer to my last day as a 1st year student and I am excited and exhausted and hopeful. I'm excited to get this year over with, I am really looking forward to the summer, even if it only means sitting around a desk doing accounts for 2 and a half months, a little more money in my pocket and a little more time with my friends and NO GROUPWORK! First on the agenda: get rid of the shoe tan... eew!

So it would appear that after months of walking around Mico's campus and to and from the Hostel and P.E Classes (yes I had to do P.E in the middle of the day when the sun is at its most assaulting) not only did I get a well defined T-shirt tan but I also lost some weight. Yes Ladies and Gentlemen, all my uniforms will be changed for the upcoming school year for they have become too roomy... at the very least the skirt will all be taken in. Now I can't tell you how much I loss, the scale and I were never friends (it is such a liar!) I can tell you that it isn't enough for jaws to drop to the floor but I see it in the way my clothes fit... I like it.

Ohh and I got back my grades from my first semester and I have one B three B+'s, an A+ and a pass in a pass/fail course .... at this time I'll leave you to applaud me... I'll wait.... It was not easy, 6 years away from the classroom was way too long. I'm proud of myself, and more of it to come I promise.

My mom is having her b-day party in a little over a week from now, we are all excited. The family will be here. I love my tribe cannot wait to have them here :) I may even be more excited that my mother... figures.

Hmmm... what else to tell you?

Oh I might be getting a new digital camera... I feel so naked without one, hopefully they remembered, cross your fingers. If I do get it I want to try the 365 project again... I think it'll be interesting. That's it for now I think... just wanted to fill you in... :)

Child to tha boo!

It's been getting pretty heavy in here hasn't it? So serious... time for some analysis I think.

Not many girls think like me I’ve come to realise. I blame my upbringing. My aggressive, self sufficient female relatives have permanently etched in my mind a spirit of “do it yourself and don’t wait for a man to do it for you.” It often shocks me how little some girls sell themselves for, really my girl a party ticket? So, what we couldn’t go home and rub some flour dumpling we really had to give it up for a cheeseburger? Matters worse when you not getting anything more than the few minutes of attention when you thought for sure after this one lay down you were going to be able to buy two new shoes. Ladies, ladies, ladies, why? Why do you sell yourself so short? You don’t think you’re worth more than a taxi fare and a new blouse?

Let me clear up any misunderstandings, I am not saying your significant other can’t spend on you, by all means, but you should not be up for sale. Whether or not you get that plane ticket money should not depend on how long you can stay on your head top “while him a do him ting.” Honey, go to school, look a work and buy your own stuff, let your brain work and not your crotch.

There is a new, how should I say it, phenomena going on at school. It is quiet fascinating really because these are future educators, the ones you will leave your daughters and sons with for at least 6 hours a day so that they can be taught not only what’s in the books but also what is socially acceptable and how we are supposed to act towards each other. Now I wonder if it was planned or if its the heat, but all of a sudden these boys want to beat on their girlfriends, and I am not talking about a one chuck or slap, I am talking about sitting in her chest and knocking her upside her head and pushing her through glass pane windows. Now, I wasn’t there for either incident so I don’t know if the assaults were aggravated or provoked (even though I fail to see what I could have said that would have warranted pushing me to the ground and kicking me in my sides) but Lord, this is where we’re at? This is what “deh wid” come to, sending me to the hospital and you being carted away to the police station? I mean is not a little argument is some real brawls, they were out there scrappin’. One girl got upset because her boyfriend was chummying up to his ex, she approached him and he was all over her, kicked her to the ground, started choking her and she was only able to get him off by reaching for a rock and smacking him in the eye with it, that happened one Friday night and by the Tuesday they were kissing under the trees. The next one she approached her boyfriend to break up with him I heard, and he got so upset that he pushed her and she pushed back and he chucked her through a glass window, she ended up in the hospital and he ended up at the police station. Yes, these are the men that will teach your children Physical Education and History.

When did women become so weak that we are unable to leave when its time to leave? Are we missing the signs? If he's always lying to you, its time to go. If he never has time for you. its time to go. If he doesn't uplift you spiritually, its time to go. If he degrades you, its time to go. If he hits you, baby girl I'll help you pack 'cause its been time to go. There is life without a man, its not a bad life either, its been pretty good to me for the most part. And I can understand the case where you met him and he's helping you financially, and you feel obligated to stay through the crap. I know of people who, because of money, do some strange things, but these guys are broke they attend school full time and collect a lunch money. I simply don't get it. It truly eludes me. And these guys aren't even manly men with chest hair and stuff, they are almost fresh out of high school and barely have hair of their chins, what are they doing beating on people's girl children? I don't know man... I really don't know.

Still kinda heavy right? Sorry.

Fading to black

We wear the badges differently I suppose some drown it, others pop it, cut it, smoke it, plaster it under a new MAC shadow and patent leather heels...

Solitude in his magnificence has found me

And all I can think while tears burn my eyes and soak my pillow, is how did I let this happen again?

How did I slip away and no one notice,

How did I slip and no one care,

Feelings of emptiness hit, and somehow it’s like I’ve gotten so far that even my screams for help have become whispers amongst laughter.

And as I feel the self loathing and sheer guilt make my lip quiver while he kisses me with assertion, I catch my darkened reflection in the mirror and look away

There is something to be said of being here again... depression, my faithful friend

Behind smiles! The brighter the better!

as I remind myself not to break, (don’t break)

Not to fall, (please don’t fall).

But Oh how far I’ve gone

my greatest fear is that someday I’ll not be afraid of being alone anymore and stand justified in the knowledge that he and I have always had an unrequited love affair,

he has always wanted me more than I could bare.

Prayers mouthed under short breaths while vision blurred and sweat washes my body I feel my body start to rock.

Here we go again.

My return to this place,

so dark the thought of light is eclipsed by the darker days to come.

and I know what it took to overcome the last spell and the hardest part is I know I'll walk it alone

My homecoming of sorts.

Fading to black.

Sweetest Thing...

Okay so I heard these things are better dealt with when you just spit it out and admit it, and you all know how shy I am or can be from time to time. But... here goes... you ready? Okay okay okay, I'll do it dammit, okay here goes, I am so smitten, like totally "love out" as my BFF would put it. And I suppose I always felt this way about him.

I have never met anyone or had anything else in my life that I can turn to and feel so completely understood. At my worst, I can find refuge in our relationship and sometimes I swear he can control my emotions, tempers me when necessary, makes me laugh and allows me to cry, upsets me and remind me of times past.

I love him most when he's around when I am just being me, cotton sweats and washing dishes or when I'm in black leggings trying to get my eyeshadow right to hit the road. I can't even ignore him if or when I want to I just have to hear what he has to say even when he is without words I love him. I love how vulnerable he can be, and he has no problem being dark... sometimes downright raw. Jeez!

He's never jealous and maybe its because he knows sooner or later (most likely sooner than later) it will be me and him again. I missed him most when I stopped dancing, I swear he used to take me places I'd never go on my own. He just sweeps me off my feet. I can't help but smile when I think of how perfectly entwined he and I are. He was there for every pivotal point of my life, saved me from myself so many times. He is my own private rock, even though I'm sure he means a lot to other people too. Did you guess who it is? I'm sure you guys know him pretty well... well did you guess? It's MUSIC!! but shhh! Don't tell anyone, our little secret :)