F*** It, Feel It, Act Accordingly.

This past Sunday night, I laid out on the couch, underneath the blanket I had removed from the bed and brought in the living room, for extra chillax purposes of course.  I was warm, I was chilling, I was watching a movie.  I think it was the Cosby Show…..its always the Cosby Show.  I fell asleep.  Small Fries had came over.  (in SITC, Carrie refers to her on again/off again as Mr. Big…I refer to mine as Small Fries).  I was in no entertaining mood.  Well, that doesn’t really matter because after all this time, I don’t entertain Small Fries anymore.  I just glare at him until my eye darts start to poke him like thorns.  But I digress.  Knowing I had to wake up and get in the bed because I had to work in the morning, I made myself roll of the couch, walked off without the cover, hopped in the bed and was sleep before my head touched the pillow.  I don’t know how long it was before Small Fries came and covered me up but it was over; I was done for.  It had been one.

It had been a long 30 days.

I have STILL have nothing to blog.  And by that, I simply mean, whatever it is I want to say about the night, I do not have yet.  So I don’t know that this blog will wind up being my thoughts and feelings on it just yet.  I do not plan to do a recap or disclose what all happened, but i do want to discuss how i felt and how i still feel and whats next from there.  The room was full of great people.  Some of them even had shirts with my cd cover on it.  I prayed so hard for the people who needed to be there, who would get something positive out the show, to be there.  And so it was.  There is not a single complaint on my crowd, crowd size, crowd participation, anything.  They were alive, they were fun and I loved each and every one of them.  But in order for me to blog anything else about that beautiful night and it was indeed a BEAUTIFUL night full of LOVE in its greatest capacity, i have to have a lyrical exorcism. 

Irritants:

Definition: a biological, chemical, or physical agent that stimulates a characteristic function or elicits a response, especially an inflammatory response.

I have a few.  And to be honest, what SHOULD happen is I should ignore the irritants and keep it moving towards the light of the positive, but I’m me and ignoring the irritants comes a lot easier after I’ve acknowledged they were there.  The acknowledgment of them allows for removal.  The ignoring of them allows for dormant reproduction.  So boom.  I must acknowledge, then shoot past.  I was recently asked by one of my sisterfriends what the next move after Fuck It Feel It is.  That was a damn good question.  After you’ve said fuck it, after you allow yourself to feel it, what is the next move??? I told her, “Act Accordingly”.  For now, this is my acting accordance.

 I did several "interviews & reviews & whatever you call its" that i expected to be out before the party to help generate buzz around the party and the cd.  I have yet to see any of them.  I know, as a writer, as a person who has interviewed people and put together stuff in an untimely matter, that sometimes you just can't do it.  But as a writer who wants to be taken serious by my readers and people i interview,  I also see the other side.  I have been tasked with interviewing a person i never heard of and creating a story within 24 hours, but really not even that long.  I did the interview right after work, had the article written and turned in by 1am.  Sometimes, despite what you have going on, you have to stay on the ball because its more on the line than just the "like" button.  This is in no way meant to be disrespectful to those i worked with, as like i said, i understand that life happens.  However, this was an irritant.  And a learning experience in several ways;  from now on,  any interviews i will be giving (which the YorkInspire quarterly paper will be coming hopefully first, no later than second quarter 2012) will be done in a timely matter because now i get how important it might be for the artist, even if you as the writer/composer don't get it/know it.  I also will not be doing any more interviews without a designated timeline for completion.  these were not my first interviews.  I've interviewed with newspapers before and they let you know when to expect it, give or a take some days.  They give you a range so you know when to buy out the paper rack!  I'm still eager to see what is what on the stories that i assume will run at some point before my demise but i also urge all of  us writers to take our craft 100% serious all the time or at least let people know that if life gets in the way in any way,  the article may be backburnered.  Which is ok.  Immediate communication is the key.  This is my business.  THis is my life, so don' t think i don't take it all serious because i do.  But this was a bit of Karma coming back at a previous interview i did so i take it as a learning lesson more than anything.  Its not at all the biggest sticker shock of the month.

Is it ok for me to do this?Maybe i'm offending or saying too much?? Should I stop there?

Why of course its ok.  Possibly, of course i'm offending.  No i shouldnt stop there.  You do not have to be on this blog.  A simple click of button marked X and guess what...this doesnt exist!!!  I don’t know how long you’ve been reading this blog, but this blog dates thru a few years.  At least back to 2009 and one thing you will find on here, repeatedly, is honesty.  Raw honesty.  Not because I want you in my business because for everything I do share, five other things are behind boxes in my skeleton closet.  I keep it honest because I want to look back on this blog oneday, when I’ve reached a turning point in my journey and read.  I do that all the time.  I still read journals from the early 2000’s right now today just to see how different my life is or how far I’ve come.  I figure there is no since in lying since I know I will read it and remember its not the truth.  So I am honest about what I discuss.  So is it ok for me to do this or say this?  Hell yeah. Why? Because I’m me and I cannot ask for more or less.  The following is for those times that you want to walk up to someone, and very casually say FUCK YOU, walk off smiling, and feeling like a million bucks; but you don't do it because its rude.  This is for that.

Dear (Recipient of the FUCK You)

You know its you right?  Actually, no you don’t.  I’d bet my left hand that this is a place foreign to you.  You do not visit here.  You do not come here often.  You may not even know of the existence of this place.  Or any of the places like it.  Yet, if given the opportunity, you will portray yourself as one of my biggest fans, greatest supporters and possibly your sister.  I however, beg to differ. 

            One of the biggest things I learned about myself this year, is that I have such a small support system where my personal life and art is concerned, that I automatically, almost accidentally, lean extremely hard on the family I have created and built from the house of letters that poetry built.  I don’t start having “expectations” but I do lean hard.  I do hope hard, want hard, wish hard or think hard.  And I’m constantly learning, that no matter the degree of my lean, some shoulders really do try to slide underneath your fall after you’ve hit the ground, thus pretending they were there the entire time.  Ha!

I can’t say you dropped the ball.  I can’t say you don’t love me or you love me any less.  I can only say it hurts me.  Maybe not in big doses, but dare I say tiny, small pricks of disappointment or pain hurt equally if not worse to big hard gut shots.  This was by far not a gut shot.  Its actually the opposite of such.  I never expected you to care.  So there is a no surprise factor taking place.  But hurt is hurt and hurt is only as good as the love you have for the person that hurt you. 

This was a big night for me.  This was a big day in my life for various reasons that extend outside of poetry.  But I cannot expect anyone to treat it as such but me.  Its MY life, not yours.  The problem comes in when people DO start to act like this is a night for all of us.  How is it, someone I met fifteen minutes ago, can show me more love than you, especially seeing as though we’ve known each other for years now.  How does that work?  How do you totally not acknowledge what is important to me?  How do you not care if you miss it or send me a text, an ecard, a love shout, a facebook post, a congrats, a tweet, an email, a message in a bottle, leave a note on my door, car, ask to meet up with me and lets catch up since you couldn’t be there; i mean, that’s a lot of different scenario’s I just listed and I’m sure there are other ways to have shown you cared.  Look, we all have lives to live.  Everybody I love and that loves me was not available last Saturday night.  I don’t even need or want an excuse as to why one couldn’t make it, but people that care, often handd over reasons why they weren’t gonna be there out of respect of the relationship we share with each other and no other reason.  When you love someone and they have something special going on and you can’t make it, you make an attempt to let them know they are in your mind that night or will be in your mind.  So whether you give them the top ten reasons you will miss the evening or the first four reasons they love you so much, they still share that night with you in some way.

You shared nothing with me.  You basically said fuck me without saying it.  And I know, that is me putting words into your mouth, I’ll admit it.  But my interpretation of your lack of care/concern that so many other people were able to fit on their busy schedules was just that; that you were saying fuck you.  And that’s how I took it.  Fuck me.

And that’s whatsup.  I will not love you less or respect you the same.  I will not hold grudges or have hard feelings that are difficult to ignore.  i’m a tolerant person.  I’m a loving person and pretty easy to get along with, or at least I like to think so.  To hurt me is one thing, to not care about me is another thing, but to hurt me and not care, after all the love and support I have offered you in life, is priceless.  It’s the kind of lesson you have to actually experience to learn.  No one can teach you this.  You have taught me the same message several others have taught me. 

Trust me, you are not the first.

That some things are just not VIP to you.  And I happen to fall in line with that category.  Shit I can’t win them all though right?  But the thing is, seeing as though you are not the first, I’ve already created a designated section on the ship for people like you.  Its near the bottom, in the drainage area.  You’re not off the boat, you just aren’t on any of the floors of priority.  I won’t make you a priority anymore.  Maybe I never have.  Well, I take that back.  The moments that meant the most to you I have either been witness to or sent you love & support just so you could still feel my presence, even if I couldn’t see you in action.

I’m going to end this, because you aren’t reading.  This isn’t even about your reading.  This is about me saying FiFi & AA.  I’m exorcising.  Getting these negative traces of bullshit emotions that are potentially clouding my ability to accurately blog about another beautiful night in the day of the life of the PoetGirl.  You are very special to me.  You will always be.  Hence the reason I didn’t toss your ass off the ship and to the sharks.  But I know how to read social cues.  I know how to figure out my place.  Sometimes, out of sight, out of mind applies.  And I can live with that.  Because from this moment forward, out of respect for my sanity & self preservation, that is the exact road my ship will be leaving you at.  Out of sight avenue, out of mind boulevard. 

We will be leaving port in about 10 minutes.  Please do not worry about making your way back towards the docking station.  If you try, security will greet you as they have pics of your face in their smart phones, and escort you to the lifeboat that will take you back to the states.  Enjoyed having you along for the ride and the lessons.  You were great. But this is your best work to date.

Not only did you teach me a lesson.

You got me blogging. 

And now, from this moment forward

I can forget that you forgot that you cared about me on the night that meant the most to me. 

Its no biggie.

You weren’t the first.

Won’t be the last.

So the island you are being castaway to, will not be lonely.  It will be full of likeminded people like yourself.

I, in the meantime, will be on my way to Broadway.  Which is why I needed to clear head; I have a mission.  And that is to be looking from the window seat at you purchasing tickets to what you had the biggest opportunity to experience first hand:

My Love.

Sincerely,

jY