Over the past few days, I’ve had several blocks of time when I was all alone. Just me by my lonesome. And I loved it, every single millisecond! It tempts  me to issue a request of the universe and ask for one week; one week when my son is somewhere safe where he can have as much fun as his 6 year old self can handle; a week where I am totally alone: no 5:30 am wake-ups by bright brown eyes which look confused when I say it’s too early to go outside. Oh a week of not having to explain daily that during summer, Ra wakes up early and goes to bed late. A week of not having to plot and plan out meals. A week of watching stubby lil fingers zero in on the meat/chicken/fish to the exclusion of everything else. A week of not having to say eat your food or explain why it’s important to eat fruits and vegetables over and over again. A week where I wonder what on earth I was doing being a mother; let alone to this child who can manifest my best and worst qualities (mule headedness, intelligence, compassion, selfishness) in the space of one hour. A week where I learn to love the sound of my voice again.

So. Yes. So consider this my request, Universe. One week; a week, I want to specify, where my son is with someone who has his best interests at heart and who understand this parent’s need to not here daily reports. A person who will just send me pictures and not call me in a panic because mule headedness won out over other emotions.

simply streaming day 1

July 16, 2010

yesterday, i blogged under a new theme: simply streaming: writing whatever comes to mind and posting. i’ve decided to set myself the challenge of simply streaming for 30 days starting today. of course  being a writer, such posts will be edited – minimally.  as someone commented on a previous blog, i rarely use capitalization when i’m blogging. in fact, as a poet, i find the whole capital – lowercase thing problematic. i never like how my poems look when i use standard grammatical rules. poems are not novels. novels are supposed to have structure…even if it’s a deconstructed structure. so to free myself of constraints in this undertaking , you will rarely see capital letters in simply streaming. let the words flow like water…undammed.

shitty dreams. shitty dreamers. that’s just want floated through my mind at this moment in time. it’s a kinda harsh juxtaposition: shit and dreams. maybe that’s why i don’t like either kind. who knows. i do know that a decision i made about five years ago was the right one. i also begin to understand that why i entered this year thinking it’s gonna be my year. i thought whatever it was about this year that made it “mine”, was going to involve writing but now i realize it’s all about independence and declaring it. i am free now. the die is cast and it spells out amandla tichaona.

freedom, of course, is scary. scary and humbling. but every person in the world, i repeat, every person in the world deserves freedom simply by being born and as i so aptly wrote in my younger years: i wasn’t born to die.