|
02.04.04 - 11:33 p.m.
undesirable i've looked forward to this moment for the past 24 hours: the chance to strip off my perfect black nappa leather boots, flattering silk v-neck sweater, professional long black skirt, elegant black leather tote bag...to then.... curl up in my deskchair, put on my frumpy highschool hooded sweatshirt , pull that nondescript hood over my head, place my forehead to my knees, close my eyes, let the tears fall down my cheeks, and finally... melt. i'm typing because picking up a pen feels like lifting bolted iron, and i want to see my feelings on a page...i want to see them so that i can cry for them..i want to see them because i'm starting to believe that there's a screen between me and the world...and the world will never fucking ever fucking ever reach me or touch me, no here's the kicker, is THIS WORLD DOES NOT DESIRE TO COME NEAR ME, OR EMBRACE ME, OR LAUGH WITH ME and i want to shout so damn loudly that "i have feelings" and louder "why the fuck is it so hard for other people to even BELIEVE that i have feelings?" i'm not making any sense. how about this for spiffy epiphanies? THE FACE OF SELF-SUFFICIENCY IS THE FEELING OF BEING UNDESIRABLE TURNED INSIDE OUT do i like living alone? do i like being alone? do i like having entire days go by where no one gives me a hug or asks how i'm doing? do i like having a total of 3 "intimate" relationships in 30 years of my life, or the fact that 2 of those 3 relationships, I was the one who asked the other out? do i like that i have attend the last 8 weddings "without guest"? do i like resolving myself to the fact that regardless of my weight or height or fitness level, or my intelligence, my income, my manners, my generosity, my thoughtfulness, my listening ability, my whatthefuckever - that my body, my flesh, my black female flesh in this country is fucking UNDESIRABLE?!?!? if i had to write an essay right now about the flash of janet jackson's breast -- making news headlines about around the world -- i'd ask- why do any of you fucking talk about this as if you cared? and fuck, if brittany spears had flashed her pink nipples at you would you have been less mortified and paralyzed and aghast? sure, i could say that rated-R is rated-R - it's not about race, but maybe it is. because maybe what this american media backlash is about is that the national "eye" wasn't particularly yearning to see janet jackson in the flesh. sure, dance for U.S. Janet, sing, perform, sure we know you're talented, but listen don't get any ideas - we don't desire to see breasts on bodies that look like yours. maybe i'm saying that imagine if sunday's superbowl show (inadvertantly) forced the country to gaze at a bared bblack woman's body, maybe the least one of these talking conglomerate heads "CBS;MTV;AOL" someone could say is - you know what, the sight was beautiful...or admit that you know what - unintentional flash or not of her flesh, the experience didn't scar/subordinate/traumatize me. when i think of janet jackson i think of a black woman alone. add to the list, halle berry, toni morrison, the williams sisters, oprah winfrey, alice walker, rachel robinson, coretta scott king, maya angelou... i'm sure my list is flawed. what i'm saying, the truth hurting me now is it's that it's not enough to raise these women up as these performing, talented, inspiring women. i don't care to know how self-sufficient and revolutionary they've been. god, i would give up so much right now, so much of my experiences in my twenties, THE LONELINEST years of my life, to have been romanced, to have been asked out, to have been PURSUED, to have been WANTED. it's so not worth going into the kick in the teeth that set me reeling into tears. and it's so much better, as i have tried desperately to do, to not look up desiring as i walk the sidewalk, or in cafes, or on the trains and buses. wouldn't you feel closed if you were convinced that no one, not man or woman, certainly not white men, nor even black men these days for that matter, was even fucking OPEN to desiring someone stuck with flesh like yours?
MUSIC:
READING:
FEELING:
�
|
|
