all these things that i've done.

at the club tonight
reggae, our favorite.
a month ago
a year ago
two years ago
we wouldn't have just happened to
run in to each other there
by chance you would have
called me at 5 pm with this evening's
game plan and we would have left
and made a grand entrance together.

and tonight,
the music was jookin
as usual and me and the girls
were wylin
[especially me. you know how i do]
and we were dancing in the same circle
through association but not
dancing together.

and it was crazy because
one of "our songs" would come on
we'd both go crazy
start doing the moves that we made up
a billion years ago in your room
and we'd share a smile
for half a second and then we'd remember
that we aren't friends anymore. so we stopped
dancing
looked down and felt awkward.

and we all left that same time
because we run the same circle of friends but
before we all departed hugs were
distributed and hopes of safe travels
back home were given out except you
and i walked past each other
as if two months ago you weren't planning
to bless the food at my thanksgiving table
as if i didn't cradle your head in my lap
in the backseat of a car while you
were damn near dead
as if we completely forgot
that we used to be all each other needed.

it's taken me this long to admit it
but now that i get it
i realize that
no matter
what you do
i'll always
always care about you.
and tonight there were so many things
i wanted to tell you and you were
2 feet away from me but
we let 2 other people
get between
what used to be.


damn, bighead.
i miss you.

lost and found.

so
i feel like the past 24 or so hours
have been a more or less summation
of my semester. thus far.

and
i'd be lying if i said that
i'm not upset and i'd be lying
if i said that i don't care and i'd
really really be lying if i said
that i don't care about him because.
i do. and i do. and i really do.
but sometimes
you lose a battle.

and
tonight with the girls
over dinner
talking and reminiscing and being around
the people who know me
best and i don't have to
put on a face for, well.
that's rare. and for everytime
that i get my feelings hurt,
get upset,
or lose a battle,
i know that i can always find a home
in the hearts of my four best friends.


and with all of that being said,
and with all of this madness
swirling around me --


--i'm still
the luckiest girl in the world.

4th meal.

so i go down stairs to the munchie mart
korey is there as usual
we chat and i wait until midnight
to finally calm my stomach and get the usual
late night snack:
orange soda, naked juice, banana

and then all of a sudden
the two of them walk in
like a bootleg bonnie and clyde
and it seems like korey turned
the temp up in the munchie mart to
200 degrees i was on mother
fucking
fire and i was sweating like an african slave.

i dont even stop to chat with korey tonight
i grab my purchases and dip
press the elevator button for up
repeatedly
as if it will be aware of the urgency
that it knows my ex best friend
and his girlfriend are coming up right behind me
so open up and SAVE ME SAVE ME

my luck has been bad as of late and
tonight seems to be no different
as the elevator door opens up wide
as soon as they arrive behind me.

the three of us in this ascending box
the two of them hand in hand
me clutching to my banana
no words to be said
after two and a half years
what more can i say?

i get off on my floor
and the cold front left behind
from the frostiest elevator ride ever
makes me turn my thermostat on
and i warm my hands over the heater

daydreaming

so the past 20 or so hours have been
like a daydream that you
try to wake yourself up from but
you're stuck in.

.......


you know what, i don't even know what to say.
we'll see.

the three.

the two of us
were the first people he met
that july two years ago
and then we became three.

and the three of us
sat on a couch
for three hours
and strived for a compromise.

although this should have been settled
last year when it was 3[+1]
and now that the [+1] is his [-1]
and she's the 1 who is trying to
destroy and dismantle what we've built.

but the three of us
have been through hell and back before
so what the hell. why not
once more.

the world, post paper.

i planned to wake up and write my paper at 6 am.
i woke up at 11 am, screaming.
i wrote 7 pages in 2.5 hours.
i turned the paper in before class started and walked out.
i saw my long lost love sylvia and i screamed and shouted.
i got an e-mail that is both horrifying and hilarious at the same time.
i am trying to conserve my meal plan so this dinner better be good.
i need to take a nap because my head is going to explode.
enough about me. let's talk about you.

korey.

korey works at the munchie mart in my dorm.
and he's seen me in some of my finest/
most embarrassing/ most scandalous
moments but he claims i'm still his favorite
'customer'. 

so lately, 
korey has been giving me advice on a variety
of subjects but tonight we resumed a conversation
we had last weekend about a situation that i feel like
im stuck in.

korey told me that im 20 years old
in a college full of niggas so i shouldn't
even be concerned with just one. and i explained to korey
that not everyone can grow up to be a whore like him.
true, he said. but don't let your ego and pride
blindside you. you're stubborn. and you'll
end up fighting for something
for someone
that you don't even really want.

courtesy call.

i really thought he lost my number
but i shouldn't have been too surprised
when my phone rang and his name popped up
trying to get back in good with me
because i'll be back home this weekend
and he thinks it'll be like old times.

i accepted the call but kept my distance.
i told him i was busy doing work
which i was
and that i'd call him back.

i used to wonder
where the love went
between the two of us. i think it
evaporated. or
exploaded or keeled over and died.

but
im not in the business
of resuscitating SHIT
over my thanksgiving break.

the political science 204 study brigade.

so as usual,
the psci 204 study brigade
meets in its not so secret location
the monday before a ridiculous assignment is due.

this time is a little different
the three of us are weary
ready for thanksgiving and generally
feeling like zombies.

amanda, usually chipper
is drugged up on pain killers
and reading internet media blogs.

linden, usually sarcastic and funny
is somber and focused
like he wants to legit murder this paper. and our professor.

and me, usually fairly optimistic
is ten degrees beyond frustration
and literally planning my weekend out in my mind.

people in glass rooms shouldn't be in glass rooms
when they have seven pages on the american democracy
due tomorrow.

deactivation, part deux

so yesterday i decided to deactivate my facebook
idk. b/c i was in one of my moods and i really
didnt't feel like dealing with anyone.

but around 3 pm today i got mad bored
and i reactivated it. i suck.

but then i realized just now i have this paper
mean ass 7 page joint
due tomorrow and it will not write itself
so again, i deactivate.

let's see how long this lasts.

the writing studio.

so today i had to go to the writing studio to visit with my professor to discuss my latest paper. she liked it but there still were kinks that needed to be worked out, as with all papers. i hate philosophy, but i like her. and i really like the writing studio. it's green. i like green, so it's fine.

anyway, we talked about descartes [wack] and spinoza [wacker] and i basically charmed my way into explaining why my paper wasnt the 'required' 5 -6 pages [it was four] but she said the content was so good it was cool. yeah.

i have a tendency of steering my professors off topic and today was no different. my professor told me about a story she heard on NPR last night about people whose profession it is to establish some connection to people who die alone by going through their homes and looking for artifacts. apparently this one woman was a packrat but the only personal information they found about her was a christmas card sent to her 30 years ago. the team tracked down the senders and they did not remember sending the card, nor did they have any recollection of who the woman was. damn.

insomnia, #1

i guess since i slept for mad long today and since today was fairly hellish, i was restless around 1 am and decided to harass christine. she and i started talking about different subjects and then jeannette walked in. the three of us proceeded to guess where each other would grow up to live and what type of man we could see each other marrying.

• christine = white man named pete, from san francisco, fairly chill but REALLY funny and enthusiastic. they'd have to live in new york because christine isnt living anywhere else.
  
• jeannette = some halfsie or some weird hybrid of raciality named Birk [not his real name, but he changed it bc it sounds more eco-friendly]. they would have two kids, clover and sky, and live in a treehouse.
• me = the girls deduced that i would marry someone who would completely zone out on sundays during 'game days' and it would piss me off but i'd love him so i'd get over it. also, they decided this man has to be mad chill to balance out my....me-ness. and he'd have to be fairly comfortable with the fact that i'll probably be a crazy paid badass.

so this discussion went on for awhile then aba happened to wake up and joined in the convo. we started talking about organ donations, jonbenet ramsey, ghana, allergy shots, brooklyn, and everything in between. the white girl who lives between christine and i beat on the wall and yelled SHUT UP and i almost got up and handled her but i regained composure.

anyway, this went on for awhile but then we all got sleepy and christine kicked us out. this is what we do on the 11th floor.

2nd street.

the leaves hadn't fallen yet
but we already were
inseparable and rumors
swirled as they usually do but we
were too awkward to
bring them to light

and one night i was in your room
as usual and we wanted
to go to bb kings and see a jazz set
but you thought it was too late but
i was unwilling to take no for an answer
and we ran out of hemingway hall
hailed a cab and headed to 2nd

we were the youngest people there by far
your goatee hadn't grown in yet
and i still had brown streaks in my braids but
we sat ourselves down in a cramped table
and listened to darnell levine croon and wail
the candles on the table smelled like
promise passion and love
subjects that we hadn't
yet got into our freshmen year in college
subjects that we avoided our sophomore year
subjects we are avoiding as i type this

and after the show it was cold
and that night the trees on 2nd
bid adieu to their dying leaves and you
had your arm around me, keeping me warm.

and on the way home, we said nothing
while the cabbie played miles davis
our silence was sweet and its vibrato hung in the air
we said nothing, and it spoke volumes

linden franklin.

my mother always told me that there are
some people that when you meet them,
you'll know. you'll just know.

she never embellished on what i
should know but when i met him
i knew that he was the one
that i knew i should be aware of knowing.
if that makes sense.

that was over a year ago when
he was that transfer student that
answered all the questions in class
and i was the sophomore girl who
attended psci 249 only when i had
a paper due but when we finally met
i knew.

and he is the type of man who'll leave the
sports bar on a sunday
tear himself from his beloved carolina panthers
and listen to me cry
about some other nigga who broke my heart
again
and will sit quietly in my multicolored room
in the chair in the corner and listen patiently.

and during finals time we
depend on each other like ying and yang
like day and night like wrong and right
he's my alarm clock, calling me at
4:00 am
waking me from a semblance of sleep
telling me to get up and finish
our paper that's due at 11 am.

and when i tried to push him away
because i was uncomfortable with the fact that
a man genuinely cared about me
and didn't want anything in return he still
held on and i held on to his body
wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders
sobbing.

i pray for him every night
and i thank God for
transfer students