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DIARY OF A TETHERED WOMAN

YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE HURTING? YOU’RE BEING ATTACHED TO SOMEONE WHO IS BEING DISTANT TOWARDS YOU. YOU’RE TOO CARING TO SOMEONE WHO SEEMS CARELESS TOWARDS YOU. YOU KEEP WAITING ON SOMEONE WHO IS STALLING FOR YOU.

An Intelligent 4$s Person. Jk it’s from lifequotes

Isn’t it selfish that you get to check for me but you don’t talk to me?

It’s almost disrespectful. To say it ‘feels’ weird rebuilding our friendship. As if there weren’t moments I felt weird but because I KNEW I wanted to not just have you in my life, I wanted to weave you oh so intricately into my stories. Especially with my music.

It hurts that I could push past and stay even in moments where I felt doing so would be to my detriment. Then again, maybe I am focused on the wrong thing. Maybe my intuition was warning me that it wouldn’t be just that moment that was working to my detriment, but our entire interaction. I can’t help but still feel that way when you comfortably pree my tweets but to use the same phone and reach out to me poses impossible.

Maybe this is just who you are.

I wouldn’t say I made excuses on your behalf. The only thing you owed me was reciprocity. Reciprocity that you did give, albeit wavering.

What needs to happen is me letting go. I am used to literally running away from my problems. That’s just how life worked out for me. I get done for some stuff, I ran. Problems at home, I ran. Dealing with my dad’s departure, I ran and in many ways, am still running. Even when things were at its worst with my mom, I ran. Shit, at every inconvenience we had, I ran. As fast and far as I could. But this, this is the first emotional inconvenience, hurdle….problem I’ve had to remain in the same vicinity. I didn’t have the option to run & even when I did manage to catch a flight, I was gone for a week and social media made me feel like I never even left.

He’s everywhere. In my thoughts, in my freestyles, all over Crosslegged With The Demons. Everywhere.

I am almost very disappointed in myself that the person my being chose to be tethered to isn’t even using my attachment to play tether ball, nah, that would require acknowledging such a tether existed. That is, except for those once-in-3 month FaceTime conversations that last hours and leave me exhausted and with feelings of diminishing self worth. So why am I still available? Hell if I know.

I don’t want to hate him; which I’ve been called foolish for- but I do not hate anyone; so why hate someone who’s been more good than bad to me? It doesn’t register correct with me. Yet I fear the other side of how I feel presently may be hate. Hatred for not being to me as I was to him. Which, in its own right, is extremely unfair to who he is, good or bad.

Nothing outside the tip of my nose is within my control therefore I must manage my expectations from them.

But it’s about the principle, isn’t it?

I found some spots on my skin and I fear they may be cancer. That or I am desperately looking for something else to over think and over analyse so as to wean my mental off him.

⁃ .aida

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4: A HAIKU

DYING

It has been a while

Oh I crave to feel alive,

To feel with my eyes

X

I doubt any of my readers from 2016 will still be here. But if by chance you are, hello. I am at my lowest point so I have returned to my first love.

I hope whosoever is reading this heals’ the same way I hope to heal.

See you on the other side xo

AIDA’s AVOWALs 1

This is the part where I lose myself

This is the part where I gain my wealth

Or shall I dwindle?

Shall I depart?

Will I lose myself or gain all of my wealth?

I’m stuck in a constant loop of asking myself “why?” And, worse of all, “What if?”. It is an unhealthy habit but I can not for the life of me help myself. I WANT TO LIVE FREE. I want to be free, in all implications of the word. Care free, most especially.

I don’t want to care what anyone may think of me or my music or my art or my self expression as a whole.

It’s certainly a journey of I so why do I care so much about what THEY think?

It’s crazy because in the beginning, I would tell you it was a ‘fear of failure’ but now that I am on an honesty wave, I can’t help but be frank with myself that it is I who has been keeping myself away from the things I want to do and, most importantly, to feel.

I’m not too sure how I will get out of this but I am very sure that I will.

When is not so clear either but, again, I am sure.

As breezy as always,

O.G Baby aka TOGMC aka Aida xx

SUNDAY, AUGUST 16TH, 2020 02:37am

I feel myself losing it. This hasn’t happened in weeks. I felt it creeping but did not expect a full breakdown at 2am.

I’m constantly thinking about my dad. Constantly thinking about how I lost him and how I am never getting him back.

I do not like when people question the dead like they chose to die. In this case, at least. But why, dad? Things were going to be different. I was going to see you again. I fantasised about coming back and showing you my Masters. You were gonna talk me through falling in love. We didn’t speak often and that is a regret i will live with for the rest of my life because i am your copy. It’s very ironic, isn’t it. The literal extension of that great man’s personality.. Now he is no more. I remember how he would reminisce about losing his father and end the statement with ‘now he is no more’. What a mind fuck.

Every time my mom says I act like him or that i am my ‘father’s daughter’ it hurts me. It’s just a reminder that my person is gone. Prior to him leaving, i was a confused mess in life. Regarding our relationship, I was so scared to be hurt. So scared to add to the abandonment issues. SCARED. Story of my fucking life. 11 years out of 25 and i have been living in fear. Fear to speak, fear to be. After my father left, I have been even worse for wear.

For the past year, I’ve been ;grieving’.At least that’s what I’ve been told.

If you asked me, I would say I’ve been taking up space. Nothing I have done in the past year has had a purpose. No aim, no objective, yet somehow everyone around me commends me on how strong I am. Even when the breakdown is apparent, I’m being told “It’s grief. You’ll feel better” Okay Stephanie but I don’t, now what?

I skipped his funeral, ya know? I couldn’t do it. As if me not witnessing his funeral somehow negated the real fact that he was dead. My father is dead. I won’t get to do it differently. He never got to see me thrive as an adult. It doesn’t seem worth it to make anything of myself. What a fucked thing to say.

I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I fear i may die. If it’s not from the comfort food, it will be the self-medication. If it’s not the self-medication, it’ll just be me.

I desperately crave peace. Desperately.

I am being told to distract myself but I have (Reid that, albeit unenthusiastically, but here i am, 2 am, cross legged on this raggedy bed, in this raggedy house, a looming headache from all the tears, wondering why I don’t write anymore.

My dad gave me this iPad for that reason and what have I done? Everything but write. His books are gone. The password to his Apple ID doesn’t work anymore so I guess he really is dead. His slides are gone. His pictures are gone.

I feel like a total fraud.

I may not know who this version of Aida is but what I can tell you for free is that she is a fraud and self-destructive as hell. IfI am not careful, she may end me.

Lord help me. I am grateful for life and the birds that sing. I am grateful for the chance to cry because that means I was awarded the chance to care and love. I am grateful for my father, even in the worst times. I do believe I will be okay. Either that or I will die.

At this rate, there’s not in between.

Purest Form

You ought to understand that I love you

That I crave the moments where we argue

Because that shows me who you are in your purest form

And I think that is magical

Yes, I’m a bit cynical

But you take my breath away in your purest form

The feel of your lips

Your hands on my hips 

You love me in my purest form

How privileged I am to have known you in your purest form. 

OSHUN:MY GRACE

 

“Re-evolve til your uneasiness is solved”

So.

Thandi and Niambi have successfully changed my life.

Before I begin my rant on how I would give my left nut to meet and write with these two ladies and beg to be their friend *I am anything but proud, I will be on my knees faster than you can say Nwanyi’oma* I’m going to tell you a little story of how I came across their music and decided to follow their journey.

I was in my dorm at college, chilling because I had nothing to do that day. I had just finished watching a documentary about The Black Panthers.

So, I’m sitting at my laptop thinking of what else to watch. I had just ordered pizza and I needed the perfect movie or documentary or article to accompany it. I’m on YouTube looking at my suggestions and I see Oshun – Protect Yourself and first thought: “Who are these people?” It had an image of like people in fluffy jumpsuits holding a futuristic gun type machine. I ignored it and listened to some Badu and Jill Scott. This goes on for like a half hour. I’m done with my pizza and the ‘itis is setting in.

SIDEBAR: I can’t properly fall asleep in a place that’s completely quiet so I usually play the Heart of Reiki instrumental to fall asleep.

I go back on YouTube to find the video and once I search for it, I see the same Oshun video and two other ones (Stuck and Gyenyame). Again, I ignore. I can’t find the video so I go on SoundCloud to check if the instrumental is there. First thing I see, before I could even search for the instrumental, someone on my soundcloud had reposted Stay Woke by…you guessed it, OSHUN! Then I’m like “Woah, ok. This is….let’s give this a listen” I’m thinking I’m gonna hate it like who do they think they are taking on the name of Oshun. The level of fuckery, right?

Wrong.

Believe me when I tell you that the ‘itis disappeared reeeal quick.

I was immersed into this realm of beauty, not for that seen but the unseen. The beauty in tradition. The beauty in the simplicity of their message but the power that held it all together. The physical and spiritual beauty of these ladies. The deities they embody. The love of self that is hard to miss. Oh, I was in awe. I was in love. For the first time, in a long time, sitting there, on my bed, staring at my laptop…I felt whole. Their songs go past the body (making you want to dance or bob your head to the beat), they go deep into the mind- making you think and challenge the ideals that have been drilled into you so you can find your truth; and the soul- making you feel. It’s a very powerful thing to feel and to experience that from  3,4,5,6 minute songs is beautiful. To this day, their music has the same effect on me.

I have never vibed like this to any artist so you know I had to put my girl, Zara on their music asap!! *laughs*

Honestly, I can’t wait to see where these amazingly awesome #wokeaf ladies will be in the next couple of years.

When I grow up, Thandi & Niambi, I wanna be just like you!

x

JOURNAL #1: RACE TO THE ‘DEEP’ END

 

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST MAY NOT THOROUGHLY MAKE SENSE BECAUSE I AM WRITING AS IT COMES. I REALLY DON’T WANT TO EDIT ANY JOURNAL ENTRY BECAUSE…WELL, THEN IT WOULDN’T BE A JOURNAL ENTRY. IN CASE THIS ENDS UP REALLY CONFUSING, LET ME KNOW AND WE CAN TALK THROUGH IT AND TRY TO DISSECT MY MADNESS TOGETHER *laughs*

 

Everyone wants to be ‘deep’ these days. Everyone wants to walk around in old school garb and eat grub ‘only from the soil’. Everyone wants to argue the non-existence of gluten. Everyone wants to become a conspiracy theorist.  Everyone wants to say some ‘deep’ shit and have the world ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at them. Everyone wants to protest. NO ONE WANTS TO UNDERSTAND.

It’s no secret that the world is drastically shittier than it’s ever been (given that we should be, by now, mentally and morally moving forward). Sadly, it gets worse as time progresses. Now, a new breed of man is rising. The ‘deep’ ones. The ones who see through the world’s bullshit and challenge authority… But another breed is rising. A breed synthetic to that of the deep. I call these, the everyones. (you know how DJ Khaled has his ‘theys’? Yea, this is my version)

It seems like a lot of people are in competition to see who can be the ‘deepest’. To see who has more ‘intellectual shit’ to say about a certain issue. Oh, it doesn’t matter if they are making sense…if it sounds like what Gandhi would say, then you are on track. It saddens me that there are people who are quick to take on a persona and ride with that persona without learning a thing about said persona. “Oh I saw this really dope quote on tumblr so now I’m gonna say some deep shit so people can reblog it” *types* the uneasiness of my mind is equivalent to that of the pirate when he hears the song of a siren  #deepaf It annoys me that being ‘deep’ is a trend now. And with all trends, it’s nothing but platonic. How ironic, deep ain’t so deep anymore. A lot of people no doubt want to be Social Media famous and a way to be that is getting likes and recognition on your social media account. These days the types of things that get recognition are things relating to being woke or ‘deep’. It seems like being ‘deep’ is now a lot of people’s ticket to getting recognised. It’s a wonderful thing to be influenced by those around you or to want to emulate a person or live your life based on a particular idea. But, it’s also a wonderful thing to be thoroughly educated so that when you meet an Aida who asks a lot of questions, you don’t get backed into a wall and subsequently embarrass yourself.

I want everyone to be educated on Earth and the inner workings of the human. If that equates being deep, then yes, I want everyone to be deep. But, understand this: just because your fashion sense is influenced by generations passed, you follow chakabars on IG,  you mistakenly read TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, you went to that one yoga class and got your ‘chakras in check’, you sometimes smoke weed on the weekends and your roommate burns incense does not make you ‘deep’.

Come to think of it, what qualifies as being ‘deep’?

I guess there isn’t a definition of what ‘deep’ really is. I guess it’s those things said or done that aren’t necessarily to be fathomed on any given day. (Let’s be honest, it’s not generally seen as ‘normal’ to casually say “the uneasiness of my mind is that of a pirate when he hears the song of a siren” ) Just Sayin’

Everyone wants to argue ‘individuality’ but everyone is just like everyone.

 

 

x

 

 

OOOOH, MAJOR SHOUTOUT TO SIMONE BILES & SIMONE MANUEL!