On What's Happening in My Brain

Okay. So I couldn't decide if this should be:

talking about the spiritual experience i have while listening to drake

unpacking "intellectual property"

explaining why black girls are mad about kylie jenner

being queer & black & woman & lowkey flirting with my sisterfriends: a thinkpiece

why i'm not following the election, a listicle

the first bit of a short story i'm working on about a blkboy who works valet in a parking lot

& anyway, here it is, 12:36 in the morning and outside, crickets are chirping and the sprinklers are going off even though there's a drought here. oh! i almost forgot why i came here. i want to start a school..- oh! this is when intellectual property came in. i want a place to put all these ideas. (dang! you really can literally follow your thoughts. the brain is incredible. humans beings are magic. i should actually map this shit out. like, make an actual map. uh oh. okay. um. oh! the school!) -

i want to start a school that is also a collective that is also a commune. i want to buy property and rent out affordable housing to black & brown & qpoc & [im]migrant & working class artists. because how revolutionary is home? having somewhere to be belong? 

someone remind me to write that post. 

*oh, i almost forgot: intellectual property- i had a brief moment where i was like I WANT TO TELL PEOPLE ABOUT MY SCHOOOOOOOL and then i was like wait maybe i shouldn't post my school idea because what if someone steals it, and then i was like, wait a minute, that's a little anti-the mission statement, whatever that mission statement will eventually be, right? cause the whole idea is that knowledge is revolutionary and belongs to everyone. yes. that's the idea. learning should not be a privilege. if you are human, it is your birthright. so like, i don't want to say "fuck intelletual property" because obviously white people have been stealing the ideas of POC for years and profiting off of our brilliance and magic while we're still fucking disparaged and fucked up, okay, i didn't even want to go here - what i mean is like, i don't want to be afraid of losing something by offering others what i know. i feel the fear in my body, but like, that's what the enemy does best, you know? it makes you feel it. 

ANYWAY.

(would "a midnight train inside my brain" been a better title??)

!  i want to devise a curriculum with artists & creatives & thinkers & healers whom i've met along my journey. i've had such a journey. i want the world to know what these people know, because what these people know is actually magic. (omg. what if the school was actually like a school of magik, like a blkharrypotter real life village of people working to get closer to their magik, wait omg omg omg) -  i want people to start thinking about their lives as their art, to start designing their human experience with intention and rigor and focus and delight. dear god, please, always with delight! 

(do you know that i actually think the words "emoji prayer hands" as if it's an actual expression?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

) in this short story i'm writing, this kid works valet in a parking lot. he parks cars for rich people and spends all day getting high in their expensive cars. he's lowkey a badass and you really fucks with him but there's something humble and sad to him. one of those people who always look tired. who you want to take care of. 

that's really what i want. i want to do things that make people want to take care of each other better. (YO. i'm fucking starving, but i'm afraid if i go downstairs my ego will give me things to do until i'm too tired to write anymore. lol. does that ever happen to y'all? you swear you about to do something and then your subconscious be like "nope," and three hours later you're standing in the kitchen eating cereal from the box watching videos on vine.

omg y'all. my brain right now. this is real life right now, guys)

*i used to be a person who was all "can you guys not use the word guys?" but i also nvr really understood why i was saying that, it didn't bother me but i heard it bothered some other people and i didn't want to be an asshole so i was like, yeah, can you not? anyway the other day my brilliant & beautiful blkboybrotherfriend austin monroe was like, "you ever notice how white feminists are lowkey racist when it comes to language?

is that what he said? ugh i have to open the text to show y'all- literally everything he texts me is epic, i should make a book

*someone remind me to make a book about austin and our friendship

(for real, i could probably create a curriculum based on the things he's been working through and sending me for the past - damn! how many years has it been, now? 2006? 2007?)

my computer is so slow, i've been trying to open imessage for like eighteen days

(*edited to add- lol omg it took so long that i actually forgot to go back to this thought. only catching it now, in the final pre-post read through. phew! talk about a journey! lol. y'all curious as hell if you made it this far! i fux witchu)

oh, - a message just popped in from my sisterfriend (the one i lowkey flirt with, lol) asking me about a picture i just posted on instagram of me & my new ???girlfriend - i'm still feeling meh about the word, i really need to unpack that*

*somene remind me to unpack that discomfort

---a mightnight train to my brain? to my brain? to my brain?

i could also write a post about how being queer is still lowkey highkey terrifying and how i'm really having to like, step into discomfort about it in an effort to get more free because the devil is a liar, y'all, the matrix is real and deep out here and you have. to. stay. woke. 

*someone remind me to write a post about what i actually mean when i say stay woke

ugh *scrolling through text messages* someone please teach me how to not be passive aggressive with people who drain me 

oops

i did it again

y'all pray for me, i'm really working on myself. (& i really do like my new girlfriend. emoji terrified face.) melissa harris perry makes me want to work on myself. beyonce makes me want to work on myself. rihanna, dear god rihanna. can *i too* just be out here on forever-vacation, slaying the looks for black girls all over the world to see how damn BAD we is? 

*someone please tell me how to get iMessages to not pop up in the corner of my screen because IT IS THE DEVIL every time i am trying to do something all i can see is messages messages messages and I'm like "i don't want to be rude and not answer but also it's rude to my damn self if i interrupt my own writing, you know i'm trying to make a serious committment, here

 

and

do you see where this is going?

do you need a map?

i'm hungry now, for real,

i've got to wrap this up

i've got text messages to answer 

lol

okay

goodnight

i love y'all

stay woke

...

1:35am.

lol. i almost forgot!: