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Monday, January 28, 2008

Nombre: SupA SiSter

Age: 266 (dog years)

Current Moniker: The Brown Recluse

Alter Egos:Black Mamba, Jen Yu, Wonder Woman, Marla Singer, Celie,

Self Description: Impatient. Moody. Compassionate. Uselessly psychic. Skittish. Fickle. Sensitive. Smart Assy. Random. Selfish. Giving. Unpredictable. Charming. Anti-social. Vengeful. Sarcastic. Neat. Sappy. Loner. Sick, dark, dry sense of humor. High sass factor. Possessing varying degrees of psychological and emotional issues. Kinda cute. Intolerable.

Current Occupation: Woman Of Leisure.
(translation: Unemployed. Disabled. Retired. Whatever the check says.)

Current Relationship Status: Voluntarily celibate. Blooming infatuation with low doses of Xanax. Unethical crush on son’s therapist. Increased obsession with Clive Owen since watching “Shoot ‘Em Up.”

Current Addictions: Television. Nag champa incense. Yellow Tail Pinot Grigio. Having full fledged conversations with pet. Laziness. Writing Hate Mail. Pellegrino. Knock-knock jokes. Turkey Pepperoni. Frightening self-analysis. Legal Pills. Texting.

Current Repulsions: Sex. George Bush. Nervous breakdowns. Working. Weddings. Lengthy phone conversations. The grocery store. The criminal justice system. Email. War. Hannah Montana. Funerals. Drama. Blood pressure pills.

Current Skills: Power lounging. Excellent TiVo organization and show conflict resolution. Remembering to feed my children. Reading obsessively. Naps. Flawless Borat impersonations. My famous turkey lasagna. Never checking the mail.

Current Hobbies: Ordering take-out. Spying on neighbors. Wondering when hip-hop will just die. Painting. Writing movie quotes on walls and mirrors. Window shopping at Big Lots. Pretending not to speak English when bothered in public.Re-watching favorite movies obsessively: (Collateral, Heat, The Hours, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Memento, Good Will Hunting, Brown Sugar; Breakfast at Tiffany's, Ghost Dog, Little Miss Sunshine, the usual shit...)

Current Bad Habits: Cursing. Mumbling. Vodka. Rambling. Always misplacing the remote. Obsessive movie watching. (see above) Looking up everything imaginable on Wikipedia. Not playing well with others. Perfectionism. Repeating myself. Talking to Myself. Repeating myself. OCD.

Favorite Words: Tomfoolery. Fisticuffs. Quagmire. Gruesome. Malfeasance. Hooliganism. Audacity. Fuck.

Favorite Random Responses:1) Escobar season has returned. 2) It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again. 3) Bitch. ..you don't have a future. 4) Gosh.

Last Year’s Highlights: Starting own business. Meeting some interesting folks. Slapping a guy in a bar who deserved it after a round of tequila shots. Birthday in Jamaica. That’s….about it.

Last Year’s Lowlights: The last guy I had sex with. My broken Ipod. Appropriate accusations of becoming a recluse. Lil' sister's murder trial. Then...Justin. Falling off my blog game.

2008 Goals: Write more letters. Stop trying to figure it all out, man. (in this lifetime). Apologize more. Put up with bull-shit less. Check my email. Start dating..and not just the brothas. Attempt to answer phone and keep disappearing acts to a reasonable minimum. Learn Portuguese. Write something that's important to me. Take up photography. Appreciate even the tiniest things. Pay my taxes.

Labels: beautiful struggles, haps, ramblings

Posted by Supa :: 6:39 PM :: 21 rants&comments

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Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Things Fall Apart

"Life is always on the edge of falling down again."
~The Noonday Demon*

the tipping point: [definition] The tipping point is the critical point in an evolving situation that leads to a new and irreversible development. By analogy, when a small amount of weight is added to a balanced object, it can cause it to suddenly and completely topple....

Wow. If anyone still reads this blog, please know that I'm here and have not fallen off the face of the earth. Not literally anyway, but I'll explain more later. I have 3,729 unread messages in my inbox. Have not checked, read, nor sent an email or read a blog in a little under four months. The reasons are complex and varied, but suffice it to say that I was already barely hanging on after lil' sis' murder trial. Had a lot to process. Then, some other stuff happened, then some other stuff. Then some more stuff...

And then came a day, a few months later, (August 2nd to be exact), when I got the news that my baby cousin, our Justin, our 25 year old Justin, handsome, compassionate, intelligent and about to obtain his mechanical engineering degree Justin - had been senselessly murdered in Atlanta (same place as lil' sis), and that I had another good-bye to attempt, another funeral to attend, another fresh deep jagged wound for my family to try to stumble through, and another new set of motives and circumstances and crime scene reconstructions, hitting walls over this backwards ass "NO SNITCHING" ghetto mentality. New detectives, preliminary reports, felony murder charges, trial dates, all the familiar horror...and something inside my core snapped. It was all just too much. Half a decade of continual loss and death and grief. All these attempts to hang on to this slipping down life, to collapse, to get up, only to be knocked down again. Again. And again and again. Yes, the world breaks everyone. And it finally broke me.

On that day I made two announcements. The first one, to be expected. The latter, scared the shit outta everyone. Including me.

Number #1: Fuck Atlanta. Fuck Georgia. Fuck the whole goddamn state and every other state that touches it's borders. Fuck anything associated with Georgia. I'm done. That place has snatched too much of my precious blood. I don't give a fuck how irrational it sounds. So just fuck it.

and,

Number #2: I give up.

Not even feeling as if I had anything left to prove, the kids and I flew back East to grief and family and funeral - then I simply came home, got in bed, and didn't get up for a month. A relative came to take care of me and the kids. I slept, drank Vodka, sobbed until I threw up, drank some more, refused to eat, and took too many but not enough pills. I just wanted to sleep. I sat up one hazy afternoon, amazed I was still alive. By then it was September.

Things had fallen apart; again. Gradually, then suddenly. And this year, even a trip to Jamaica hadn't saved me.

Hence, the disappearance.

Though I won't even say I'm back - just checking in. The lady who lets me be lost on her sofa every week (my therapist) suggests that I try to start writing again. This is the soft encouragement she gives after reminding me all of this is normal after suffering a "major grief-triggered depressive breakdown," with a fair amount of "post-traumatic stress" to go along with it. (All these fancy words and phrases for going crazy, nowadays.)

So I have graduated from just trying to get out of bed and brush my teeth, to taking regular showers, to coming out of my room, to speaking without crying or shouting uncontrollably. Not without the help of a whole lotta love, and whole lotta doctor's prescriptions. (the legal dope- pills.) All of it has been a humbling, frightening experience, my closest slip into pure madness. Because of it, I've alienated a bunch of folks this go around; I became impossible and simply dropped off the map with no indication of a return. A few great friendships have been tested and deeply frayed. Normal conversations still remain amazingly tedious. When I'm able, I'll communicate what I can to them..and just hope.

But you are never the same once you have acquired the knowledge that there is no part of your life that cannot crumble..you must let go and understand that the world will be re-created and may never again resemble what you knew previously...*

So, a painful progress had been sort of achieved now, I guess. Phone calls and voice and e-mails still give me an unnerving amount of anxiety. I can text, though. And eat salad. Get up. Walk the dog. That I can do.

Re: writing again: I tell my therapist: I'm sick of writing about pain. I don't wanna be that tragedy chick. You know, that person who seems to go through it..again..and again, and again and again; that person(s) you lightweight stay away from just in case their shit is contagious.

What do you want, then? she keeps asking me.

I don't know, I keep telling her. I liked it better when I didn't have to think or want. But I suppose now, since I'm up and wandering around - maybe it means I'm trying to find out. Maybe.

Until again,

Be well, Blogger Fam.

~Supa

Labels: jagged little journey

Posted by Supa :: 2:10 PM :: 23 rants&comments

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Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Vacation Auto-Response...

Supa is back stateside...but her mind and spirit are still loungin' in Jamaica, mon.
(Sipping rum punches!!)

Me and My Partner in Crime (Sigz)
PS: I WON THE TAN CONTEST!

Resort Life!

P.S. - Soprano's finale hate? Anyone? Anyone?

Labels: haps, vacay

Posted by Supa :: 5:42 PM :: 24 rants&comments

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Sunday, June 10, 2007

Checklist....and Countdown!

Let's see....Been neglecting blog lately? Check. Miss cyber-hangin' with all my blogger friends and fam? Check. Cut self a lil' slack, 'cause life happens. Check!
Make amends upon return...check. Ready to relax and get rowdy on Carribean isle to celebrate upcoming earthday? CHECK. (don't ask how old I'll be - I'm a '69er so do the math!) Passport, laptop, bikini gear, Ipod, tanning oil, good book (& overstuffed suitcase)....check check check!!!

What's. up. Blogger. Fam! Life's been a movin' and ya girl has been busy trying to flow right along with it! And in less than 10 hours, Supa will render herself dumb, refuse to obsess on whether she tured off the iron or not, and gratefully plop her azz in that airline coach seat headed non-stop to Montego Bay. Yeah mon. I'll throw back a couple of Rum Punches for ya, while hoping all is beautiful in your lovely worlds!

So if I didn't get in all my last minute phone calls, I'll holla when I return. Mwabi, can't wait to see you when you hit the west side! Tia, don't get married while I'm gone...Cinq & Caprice, check your voicemails. Tammy Tam, relax and do you! Bloggin Hotties ~ we gotta hook up! Writing Crew ~ we need to, too. Skinnyman, I love a story full of advantages...And S.Simone - I'm gonna win the tanning competition. I still love you, though! Ha!

Wish me happy birthday come Thursday (Gemini's rule!) Soprano's finale tonight!! What's it gonna be?? Oh,the drama!

Peace, ya'll!

P.S.- Saw Ocean's 13 with the RR's Friday nite, thought it was complete garbage.

Labels: haps, vacay

Posted by Supa :: 10:03 AM :: 11 rants&comments

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Thursday, May 24, 2007

Thought Bombs...

So glad the sun finally came out today. These gloomy gray LA days suck big time. I need the sun. Need the warmth and inspiration of that bright glowing star. Otherwise I'm just a moody chick. I think that seasonal affective stuff is real. I'll use that the excuse for why I haven't called you back, Cinq. Caprice. Yvonne. Jude.....etc....

We're so full of shit. As a human race. As Americans. As Americans of African descent. What are we doing? What am I doing? How am I contributing to the world, to the global community? Cuz we're all the same. All of us. We all want the same things. A good life. Security, love, family, safety, health, access, opportunity. People in Iraq want the same thing. People in the Sudan want the same thing. People in Haiti, Mexico..hell, New Orleans..want the same things. To be happy and free. To be healthy. To have equal access and opportunity and the freedom to live your fucking life. To have the neccesities covered so you can dream a little. If you think what's happening on the other side of the world doesn't affect you, you're insane. If we think being an American doesn't hold us responsible for some truly heinous shit, then we're blind. I should be doing more.

Rap music is bullshit. Poison. Buffunory. I'm done. Again. Hip-hop is like a high-school love who had my heart at fifteen but can't do shit for me as a grown ass woman. We'll always have love and memories, but I accept that we've grown apart. So fuck it. Drum and bass and that abstract shit is really fueling my mind right now....Maybe I just need to go watch Brown Sugar..

I want to travel. Expand. My soul is itching to reach farther, a constant nudging I embrace but can't explain. I need new earth beneath my feet. Always wanted to walk the red carpet in Cannes. Maybe I'll get there, but if not it's still cool. I enjoy what I'm doing now. Feels like freedom. Running my own shit, working with people, doing bodywork. It's like being a composer. I hear tones and feel textures and see colors and it feels like jazz....

Why in the hell did I start watching the news again. Paris Hilton needs to get off my tv screen. Why does this silly girl's antics piss me off? Maybe beause on this particular news segment it was reported that she was too distraught to make an appearance in court... and I'm wondering what kind of excuses do normal non-heiress people have when they're too distraught to do whatever. Fuck that bitch. I'm trying to live a real-life life so forget I even mentioned it.

Talked about death the other day. Am still challenged with having unbiased coversation with folks who haven't experienced loss on the same scale, yet who through honest conversation give their insights and opinions with absolutely no malice intended, yet i still want to wrap my fingers around necks and declare softly you don't know what the fuck you're talking about. But I can't judge anyone else's experience. Nor can they mine. And I'm still working through some shit. And I gotta remember that sometimes even I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. And so the gap remains...

I keep so much inside. I have a story to tell so why aren't I telling it? Recording it. Writing it, like I said I would. Why doesn't anyone? We're all full of these stories waiting to get out. Can I write it as I'm living it, or do I need some distance and perspective in order to put it all together? How cool is it to be able to write your own endings. And beginnings. I will do it. You should do it. Everybody should. We can. I wonder if Rainier Marie Rilke knew his shit was prolific. Or did he feel just as lonely and hopeful and confused as the rest of us. What does any of it mean? Christ, I sound like AJ from The Sopranos.

Been reminiscing lately. Thinking of certain men in my life who were beautiful romantic disasters. Who would stay up all nite building/sparring with me about art and philosophy and the Harlem Renaissance and the existential crisis Peter's character went through in Office Space, or dissecting themes and symbolism and archetypes in whatever movies we'd both seen in our Netflix queues, eating day old take-out sipping chilled vodka while attempting to figure out our mutual and individual existences, or whispering into the clouds while chillin in a hammock, or sharing this overheard conversation or that obscure quote or whatever wacky historical fact...or smiling over frozen mojitos in bryant park...just be reminiscing on all the mental fucking sessions that replay in my head... it's a lovely hodgepodge...and quite refreshing when despite whatever happened you can still remember the good things..

Life is magic and I wanna learn some new tricks

Labels: ramblings, stuff, the writing life

Posted by Supa :: 5:57 PM :: 13 rants&comments

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Monday, May 14, 2007

Holy Shit, Man...

Dude. The Soprano's...Oh, Christophur!

As RR#2 would say - OMG!

I must say, it's almost disturbing how much emotional investment I have in this motley crew of totally fictional muthafuckas...but the writing, acting, and production on this series is phenomenal. These sociopaths are my guilty viewing pleasure.

Only 3 episodes left..So what's gonna happen to Tony Soprano?? (hit up the new poll!)

Labels: bullshiznit, haps, stuff

Posted by Supa :: 7:44 PM :: 10 rants&comments

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Thursday, May 03, 2007

Floating Forward...

What's happening, Blogger Fam! How you be, how's life treatin' ya, and what's good?!! (tell me, I really wanna know!)

Meanwhile Supa is over here, holding down her little spot on the planet, a lil' overwhelmed as of late, always hustlin', steady daydreaming, forever grateful. I have been so lame on my blog posts and reading, Ize feels like I dont know ya'lls anymore! (insert Sophia voice from Color Purple) I'm way behind on email and phone call returns too, so if you wanna cuss me out, there's a bit of a line. lol (Cocoa Girl, Cinque, Jude)

But trust, I haven't been slacking..running The Lounge keeps a sista pretty busy (happily busy, but BUSY)...I mean, I kinda knew starting your own business venture was a time-consuming deal, but one never knows just how much until she's IN it, right? But it's alllll good. Tia helped hook up The Body Lounge website and we got the Myspace page going, and I even started the lounge blog, along with planning our next big marketing push, all on top of holding down the Supa Pad and the RR's, pondering on going back to school this month and trying to get to JAMAICA next month...balancing social life, "me" time, a new honey(sneaky smile), and everyday existence....AND still trying keep up with the latest Soprano's episode (whew), so alla that should serve as quantifiable proof I 'aint been sittin' on my azz..Damn. I'd like a nap, please!!! (Tia, I don't know how you do it...AND stay sane)

(side note: Please add The Lounge as a friend in your Myspace, I swear that page is lookin' kinda lonely...)

So summer is knocking and I'm feeling the itch - the urge to slip on that summer dress, walk around pedicured and barefoot, sip homemade lemonade, lay around in the hammock & work on my tan, cocktail in the big city until all hours of the hot night...

..but damn. It's only the beginning of May...and plenty of work to be done until I can play. And this last month has been an adjustment period of sorts...life after the trial still feels strange indeed. The new normal...*sigh* Strange, indeed...more on this lata.

At any rate - shout out to blogger Bunny who sent me the nicest encouragement card in the mail after the trial, and to Christine who is the first to make a Body Lounge order via the web - yay! Who says these internets can't bring positive things and people together? Pffft.

Supa, signing out, and still floating forward...

Much love ya'll. And tell me, what are your summer plans? Might need some good ideas :)

and happy belated birthday Tam and Mwabs!!

Labels: haps, ramblings, stuff

Posted by Supa :: 12:38 PM :: 13 rants&comments

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Tuesday, April 17, 2007

So Much News, Such Little Time To Blog...

But let's start with this...

"Calm down white people, stop going crazy over Don Imus,
ya'll are still in control." -Spike Lee

Don't know about ya'll, but I always thought this fool was suspect. Didn't even have to listen to his shows to know he was an old-school bigot. Straight up vintage. Shit don't bother me. Personally, Supa likes to know her deep-seated sexist/racists right up front, no beating around the Bush. Meanwhile, it's kinda interesting how hip-hop got pulled up into this Imus mix....might be apples and oranges, but I do know that when folks demean and denigrate their own (*cough cough* present day rappers *cough cough*) then everybody feels like they can do the same. And in the eloquent and succinct style of this dude:

That's all I'm gonna say about that.

Labels: bullshiznit, haps, ramblings

Posted by Supa :: 3:56 PM :: 11 rants&comments

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Sunday, April 08, 2007

Supa: Checkin' In..

What be the haps, Blogger Fam? Hope all is well in your worlds! Sincere thanks all for the messages and comments and concern and well wishes...

Supa's been good. Just taking it slow. Relaxing, regrouping, re-adjusting...didn't do Jamaica (yet), but took a mini-sabattical to the Palm Springs desert for a few (hence the cornrowed 'do!) ; enjoyed lazy life in the sun, thankful for the breather and change of scene; for some time to think, be still, reflect, smile, cry, laugh, get a lil' tipsy, and be thankful some more. (special bonus being, having a promising new fella at my side, who's been doing a damn good job of making me smile and honoring my tears....hmmm....) *smile*

Business at The Lounge is good, just been taking it one day at a time, cherishing the little things, keeping a tender hold on this thing called life. Been journaling like a madwoman, and an old/new manuscript is definitely in the mix. More on all this later. Meanwhile, keep livin', loving, and do what makes you healthy and happy. Ya girl is strivin' to do the same...

Much love always!! ~Supa

Labels: beautiful struggles, haps, stuff

Posted by Supa :: 8:58 PM :: 16 rants&comments

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Thursday, March 22, 2007

Tears, Tatts, and Triumph

So ya girl is checkin' in. Still in chill-and-absorb mode, but I'm compelled to simply say thank you. Thank you to everyone - my regular readers and Blogger Fam, the lurkers and first time commenters, friends (on and offline), and fam bam - all of you who kept me close and in your thoughts and hearts and prayers. Couldn't have done it without you - believe it.

The trial started out rough and I had to stop posting about it for two reasons - one, after realizing the details were making me feel worse and pushing me back toward insanity, and two, after being "warned" by the court that even my little ole blog ramblings might have an outcome on the trial. So in true Supa fashion I busied myself, got some new tattoos, allowed myself to collapse into the comforting space of loved ones and everyday life. And yeah, that's about it. So it's all over now but not really; things never really balance out, yes the trial is done and the murderer was handed down three life sentences (I'm slightly pleased, as another trial watcher commented), and so now life will and can move forward, yet the hard fact that lil' sis still 'aint comin' home is the continual sobering reality. But I think she's happy; she's been sending me little signs. And she's free. That's what pushes me forward.

I would do some personal shout outs, but the list would be too long. Ya'll know who you are. I'll be back in a minute, a sista just needs some time and space to breeaathe. And who knows, an impromptu trip to Jamaica just might be in the mix. Yess..

Be well, Blogger Fam!

~ Supa

Labels: beautiful struggles, lil' sis, ramblings

Posted by Supa :: 6:16 PM :: 17 rants&comments

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Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Trial Diaries: Continued...

Day Three

I'm good. Much better today. Decided early on that I wouldn't get any trial updates until the days end, so I could insulate myself with good thoughts, good music, and the simple graciousness of being alive. It was a beautiful day. Had a cool day at the Lounge, scheduled a breakfast meeting to do some co-op advertising and promotion with a semi-big-willie in the Leimert Park merchant community, enjoyed my South Central neighborhod on a sunny day (Bone-Thugz and Harmony were shooting a video on my street - how crazy is that - didn't realize they were still a group...) Rolled around the streets with the sunroof and my thoughts wide open. Got some special love and support via text and email. (wink) Made an impromptu trip to a day spa I'd been hearing great things about down in Koreatown, spent the eve in pamper mode. A much needed mini-mental vacay. One day at a time.

Take care, Blogger Fam.



Day Two

Okay, so I wasn't ready for Day Two. Nope nope nope. Nope no fucking way. Was I supposed to be ready to hear never known before facts (evidence) about Dena's last conversation, or her last moments on earth and at what angle she got blasted, or how this bastard actually had a baby with another woman after he killed my sister and unborn neice? (what?what?)

See, here's the deal. While the cops and the army and the district attorney were building a case against this fool over the last few years, there were facts and "details" they simply would not share with us. Said it would jeopordize the case. Said it might inflame the family. No kidding. So there are things that even I didn't know which are coming out in trial and I won't get into details but it's fresh new heartbreak. Fresh and new, alongside the old scars. And here's the even trippier part. I had the urge to call Dena to tell her how the trial is going. I can't even get into the psychology behind that right now.

And driving home, I'm thinking: shit like this changes people's lives. Drastically. Permanently. This shit is so far reaching and I wonder if, just a very small poignant if, if a person who murders, who snatches a loved one out of the arms of folks who watched her grow and believed in her and loved her to pieces, if it's even comprehensible for that murderer to imagine the ripple effect that his senseless, cowardly act has on so many lives - friends, co-workers, cousins and nieces and nephews, neighbors, law enforcement, lawyers and reporters, how so many lives will change and intersect and collide but for no other reason than his own sorry ass actions. Lives shattered, even those of his own family. He has no idea what he's done.

I'm torn. I'm torn because of how I feel about trial watching from a distance, yet knowing that I just would not be able to sit there through all this evidence. I've got kids to take care of, a business to run, and a mind to keep stable...I'll be there soon enough, just not for this part. (But still...)My presence will not change the outcome which I've already determined will be just. The trial is moving along well, which means closing testimony might happen next week and that's what I'm waiting for. Miss me with the defense's case, just miss me with all that bullshit. We know what he did.

But Dena-D: Lil' sis, you're an angel and you've been sending me support and placing little signs in my path to let me know you got my back, and I appreciate it. I really do. I've been embraced in ways large and small, unexpected and completely appreciated. From everyone who's sent me a comment on the blog, to the thoughtful and supportive emails, phone calls, and texts, to my friends and fam bam who have kept me lovingly occupied with hugs, real talk, pretty new "keep ya head up, cheer me up" shoes (thanks, Pam!), hang out sessions at The Lounge, etc. Any and all of it. Ya'll are performing a delicate form of heart surgery, and I love you for it. And trust, I'll be okay. Just need a minute to absorb and reset, and I'll be good. And everything is gonna be alright.


Trial Diaries: Intro


So today, my life unfolded simultaneously on two realms: one in a Georgia courtroom, the other, over the span of a beautiful lazy Southern California day. I got up early, got the car washed, walked the dog. Basked in the near 80 degree weather, ate breakfast in the back yard, did some laundry, hula-hooped, read in the hammock, napped. Took it reeeaaal fuckin' slow. All while a jury heard the first day of testimony in the case of my lil' sis' murder trial.

Had already decided I could spend the whole day stressin', or go through it graciously with the knowledge that justice has already been done and this trial is merely the logistics to that pre-determined end. When I called in for the day's updates, I didn't ask about the jury demographics or what the accused was wearing; just wanted the information revealed by the first witnesses. I was told about the hunter's testimony, and the circumstances surrounding exactly how he found my sister's decomposed body and I said hold on because I thought I was going to throw up. But I didn't. That's a very good sign. Not getting sick so much anymore. All around, it was a good day, as good a day as any. I feel a strange calm. I think about everything that's happened over the last four years. It didn't kill me. That must mean I'm basically fucking invincible.

Ready for Day Two.

Labels: beautiful struggles, jagged little journey, lil' sis

Posted by Supa :: 7:45 PM :: 16 rants&comments

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Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Jagged Little Journey...

jagged: ['ja-ged] having a harsh, rough, or irregular quality

journey [jur-nee] : a traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time

It's countdown time. My latest mantra: Stay busy, think positive, remain calm, breathe, focus, don't shut down or start cussin' folks out, everything is gonna be alright. Justice will be served. Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

But shit dude, I can't sleep. Third night this week and I'm up past 2 a.m., hula-hooping on the cold kitchen tile (my latest exercise fad), Ipod headphones and 2pac on blast, doin' dainty Vodka shots wondering how the fuck am I gonna do this. Can't pretend like it 'aint happenin', time's up for alla that. With the media and the D.A. all up on the other end of my line, couldn't ignore it if I tried...

It's been four years a long time it's the day you've waited for all this time four years how do you feel will you be able to contain yourself it'll be the first time to confront your pregnant sister's murderer...

Shit, man. Like, what am I supposed to say...(do all you reporters ask the same dumb ass questions? how do you think I feel, genius? you want me to get all heated & gully so I can get lectured again by those nice Georgia detectives about the sentences and fines for making terrorist threats against the accused?) Nah. I don't even go there lately. All I do say is: I'll be there.

Can't really call the rest.

No one really knows what it does to you. It changes you; but in ways they don't readily see. After all, you do resume some semblance of "normal." Folks see you up and about, hair combed, speaking coherently, occasionally smiling, and they convince themselves you're beyond the worst of it. You'll live. They don't know..not really. Only you know the sleeplessness, the late night conversations with God and ghosts...the hole left in and around your life, that cold breezy place where it seems nothing good sticks. You wonder what your life would have looked like "if", what their life would have been like "if", and you lay deep in the night and see the sun rise before realizing it doesn't even matter. There is no "if". There is only now.

And so, lil' sis' murder trial is set to begin March 5th. Like, for real for real.

So I hula-hoop, listen to music, stay busy, think positive. Remain focused. Try not to cuss nobody out. Do dainty vodka shots, daydream, furiously rework my gratitude list, stay in the moment and write it all down. And pray.

That they keep him far enough away from me in court.

Labels: jagged little journey, lil' sis, ramblings

Posted by Supa :: 7:24 PM :: 11 rants&comments

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Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Barack in Los Angeles...

And yep, Supa was there screaming at the rally like it was circa 1987 at an LL Cool J concert.
GO BARACK!

Labels: haps

Posted by Supa :: 8:33 PM :: 12 rants&comments

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