Brand Agent Agency

"I remember you spraying your sheets. That bedding was so well kept by you.

It's like you knew what mattered and what not to worry much about. You specialize in "...."

I just made up that word."

I DO!! "---" gosh that is such a great title.

i know you did. you need to be my agent. i keep telling you that. you need to drop everything you are doing and make me your life and brand. I am almost sure. between the art, the food, the "....", the love like yourself living, interior decorating and world products, as well as my business Ideas, I could make us millionaires, if not billionaires. and I did not even include my writing and such word based products. ..like long time I wanted to write my poetry in nice big font, and print it on wallpaper . and sell it as decor.

you get me and your ping of getting me is how to sell me to the world":

"Now don't go spreading it, Melise. You may be able to build a brand around that and your intuitive capacities.

lol. i was just about to post.

hell the stuff is too good not to post

"No. As your agent, I'm putting the brakes on you, lady. I need these ideas to stay "silent". ...consider yourself in the cocoon at this point; beautiful butterflies of wealth to come."




" Oh...in our world, I am "handling" you...as an agent would. But more...

Alchemists are Beauty Undefiled

so hard is it to find a steak lunch mate?

loachos and trifling bunches/ one of the persons i met, i first met them over a decade ago by offering them lunch. ask him to take me today first thing out his mouth is ;am i paying' niggers who are douglas and indians have no shame either.

all this talk of women having friendzone males who are transport...i dont know that at all. Never had it. Dont think in that framework. Perhaps it is because from age 16 I always had my own vehicle

But i am not complaining, i just find it so amusing how one can have a life and reality so far removed from the popular myth and story line.

just last night my godsister was telling me how much my life constantly variates from the norm, something always spectacular, surprising and appealing.

i just dont understand where people and males get this loacho thing from. I cant imagine them being like that with their male friends, or maybe they are. it matters not

the other thing that occurred to me last night , this morning are my variety of haters. the high kind, the kind who think they smart, crafty and with gifts and talents. bullshit. they are just busy dead japs, already sprayed dead, still buzzing an insistence of futility.

haters who enlist zombie worthless agents to spread rumours and lies. but here is the clincher. they think they are hurting me and i am and was oblivious . i now coming to the story, figuring out the pieces a good nine months after the fact. They trying to hurt me, remove from me a great gift, something they wished they ever had or known in life, something that made them green in envy under all that white, made them sick and plumb more into darkness, a darkness that their vehicle now bears the appearance of weight and battering. see cause her soul is in everything else except her body. many things that she steals and attempts to coerce. but what i am getting to is that these two imps trying to do me in and only hurting innocent people,another lady who had no idea how much of a cheater her boy was, living in delusion she was/and is. but i realize the more they do, they do to everything I am, everybody walking with me, and besides all of that, me as an alchemist, so you throw bad for me and guess what? it turns into gold. you speak ill of me, and guess what, my light shines brighter. you try to remove one from me and guess what, a whole calvary comes seeking. there are things i have to talk and share about but i am not sure where is the place and timing but know one thing. there is an experience most women never ever have, and when they see it , it makes them turn ugly and crazy. I have seen it twice in my life. once in college, telling a friend about my life with my boyfriend. she was so surprised she tried to attain it for herself but it dont work so. what you have with someone aint transferable, even if the tool is there. it is the energies combined that brings it to a height of life and skill/ a gift most women know nothing of, far less to imagine, far worse to ever experience.

that is what i had that had turu in a state. enlisting a street rat ornella who looks like a recovering coke addict, bespoiling a young sister;s life at a time when she waited eight years to make a baby for a loser bum, she still unmarried, he very single but she calling him her husband. living lies and then have to contend with a very public betrayal. and all the while, I am still the golden girl. the bomb in the ria, smelling like frankincense rose and looking like the pot of gold giving life to new worlds, possibilities, vista and rainbows.

i never knew i was that much an alchemist

turuornellamarkcarlababy

Paedophilia: Sexual Predatorship, Promiscuity and Child Marriage in Trinidad and Tobago

i swear to you i was trying to keep quiet.

i was trying hard not to say or write a word about this child marriage act everyone is discussing. when i saw this cover, I had no idea what i was going to read, it was the comments in the thread that led me to open the link. sigh. smh.

but this right here. that is the mother speaking. her voice

"She told officers she trusted the man even with her own life and never expected him to prey on her daughters. She said she read stories in the newspapers about children being sexually assaulted, but never thought for a moment, it would hit home as she considered herself to be an extremely cautious parent when it comes to her children."

the most derelict of mfers. the delusion, the myth of self. the lie and lies we tell ourselves is sickening, defying all sense, common, bought or borrowed. you are a cautious parent but sending your young girl children to walk the road by themselves. what part of this world and this trinidad that the sane and real vigilant would never ever do such a thing? Night or Day?

what grown mature wombmyn knows to trust zero man with your girl and boy children, not even their father. it was the 1930s, 1940s, 1950s 1960s that my grandmother i learned had a policy never to leave her girlchildren with their father, her husband, a corporal police, mr very serious everyone respected mister felix baptiste, the patriarch among six of his siblings, he being one of three boys and i am not sure he was the oldest. so you understand the dynamics. my grandmother an uneducated venezuelan grew up in the hinter hills of maracas riding donkey on hillside farms. She knew that back then. what wrong wid allyuh. was allyuh excuse/

and no one would tell her, fuck outta here, cautious and two girls walking the road unattended dont match. that is not equal equation maths. let alone trusting a man who is not even their blood, or any man at all.

so the reason why i was trying not to say a word about this child marriage thing is this story. that "child marriage" discussion is wrong headed, it is sa subset for a deeper, larger problem: Paedophilia, and the preying of young people, girls and boys, more the former, but in trinidad my common sense telling me not to even use that archaic ignorant language and differential any more... marriage just justifies, validates the predatory behavior, but this is not about child marriage. it is the preying on our children for sexual deformity and male dysfunction

That is the discussion.

and i bring it down to bottom line basics.

Protect those who cannot protect themselves. Protect the young,

the uninitiated, the innocent, those still growing.

Stop male domination and entitlement, which would be a full catchment of professionals raping grown women, and other male types raping children.

Sex without consent is violence, which then gets to us fully understanding violence.

When we get to understanding all this is about Violence, Entitlement and Male Domination in all forms. we will start to get somewhere, but no where is there space for this level of conversation.

the other bottom line i want to state that i was trying to avoid, is we as a country are yet to admit the rampant extent of sexual predatorship is normal and cultural. societal and accepted.

i saw someone asking for stats on child marriages. again then i cringed.

forget marriage. do you know how many of us come from a lineage of rape, and no i not talking about from slavery or indentureship.

merely ask us about our grandmothers, if you ever knew? my father's mother was raped at fifteen, .her oldest daughter,the result of that rape, my father's eldest sister, was also raped at fifteen. my father's niece, the eldest daughter of his youngest sister, she the mother, gave her daughter up at young teenage years to some grown man of early twenties cause he told her he was interested. statutory rape.

why do we not consider those women who offer their girl children up

why do we not awaken to how common grown and professional and titan men of this country took country bookie, young girls to wife. one of the biggest female lawyers in town her mother was a fraction of her famous lawyer father.

my point being, we need to break down the artificial barriers and languages that cut and dice child sexual predatorship between the powerful, the poor and the folk in between.

it is real deep cause this is a culture all about sex. more sex happening in the schools between equals than learning. so brother, I have no idea how to stem this thing. But long time now i see that as a form of boredom, lack of training, lack of productivity, guidance, so the poor of mind and spirit make activity of their bodies. that is something i figured out a long time ago. you give young children activity and responsible adult supervision, half of our societal problems will disappear. literally. but can that happen when the pool of beings are so regressive and degenerate., male and female in a maelstrom of  Paedophilia: Sexual Predatorship, Promiscuity and Child Marriage in Trinidad and Tobago

http://www.newsday.co.tt/news/0,227937.html 

Commentary

Teocah Arieal Ainka Dove:

Just now ·

"It becomes ......

for one to wonder.....

If by the comments being made by religious leaders...

If in some way, they are responsible for the prevalence sexual abuse in the least within their religious communities.......

Because if a man, in a particular religion, knows that he can marry a 12 year old, then by all means he may see no issue in having sex with the same 12 years old.... out of wedlock...

I am not saying this is what it is, I am asking if this could be so..... given such....."

"Community and Ethnographic Esoterics"

Benevolence
merlin, May, 2000

 Where the river
Meets the sea
Unseen maelstroms whirl,
And I inhaled the majesty,
That makes receptive soul
Of vessels shaped in innocence
That see with eyes of old,

By the river
Of my play
Rolling foam and hovering mist
Lift themselves in gentle haze
To blue above and tumbling veil,
With joyous children’s dance below,
So earth and star would kiss;

On the water
Where I dream,
Laughing winds they taste of rain,
And lenient morning river crawls
From musky mangrove rich and raw
To rushing sea and widening sky;
That anchor hearts to home

In the river
By the sea
Secrets whispered to the wind
And sealed within vined fruit
Are sailed away on perfumed waves
In ebb tide ripple and hand-made trays
In consecration of this place

Where the river meets the sea.

==============================================

me:
"it is so sad there is amazing history in this so very small place. I learn something new here, but also think of the Rada people, which is a vine of my family tree.

We really need an Indigenous and African History of Trinidad and Tobago, but i dont know nary enough to validate creating it

i am aware of their work although i have never held an Elder book in my hand, I have a few Warner=Lewis, but somehow those books as you remind me are still too distant seeming. But as you have reminded, I will try to build a collection to move with in the coming months. that would be rich and good. thanks"








"yeah. i now get clarity on my point. Being mindful that I never read an Elder book, I find Warner Lewis' treatments to be generic, general, regional. Not stories of Moruga, Arima, Tortuga. Belmont, St. Joseph that is what I meant when I said there is an amazing history in this place, at the ground, at the people level that is largely unknown and lost.

I realize that my Venezuelan grandmother and her sisters in st. joseph were some serious power women. who writes about that, enough for their living nieces to recall and tell stuff, but they are modern enough to not know and that is the thing, in my parents generation it is like they were willful fools for the purposes of silence, subjugation, keeping the secrets lest they be known, etc, etc. they never asked who and what of people.

my great aunt also from st. joseph but her parents from up the islands, have come to me in dreams. who were they up in that community?

pa neezer in moruga,

seadly's people in belmont.

That ground personal lineage level and their community.
THAT. that is gone~"

Merlin Hernandez : "Maven, I know what you mean when you speak of the distance in these works. I have not read Maureen Warner's work, though she was my A level Literature teacher...but I found the work if JD Elder, though seminal, to be grounded in a broad narrative devoid of the esoteric that we both desire. In that sense the work does not satisfy the need to rediscover and explore the deeper connections to our past."

me: " ahhhh Merlin. you just gave me something:

Ethnographic and Community Esoterics

BOOM wink emoticon"

Merlin Hernandez: " The convergence of mind...Looking forward to reading it in a couple of years..."

Merlin Hernandez: " Maven, I have been reflecting , perhaps ruminating, on the idea of community esoterics quite a bit since your post...And an image/experience haunts those thoughts. And it has to do with what is called "live ground" i.e. places in the community that are sacred, sometimes naturally so like the mouth of a river where I played as a child where the energies were so powerful that you entered with trepidation but knew you were in the arms of something profoundly divine...And sometimes these spaces were invested with such energies by the communal yearning that reaches into the very earth to infuse it with perfection. The Spiritual Baptist church in my neighbourhood had that energy..you did not enter frivolously because those esoteric forces arose in an arcane place less mundane...Many Shango shrines host those energies that give meaning to your idea of Ethnographic and Community Esoterics for me...Just a thought...I have a poem somewhere about that river...I'll hunt it up"

Thank You Trinidad and Tobago

the overwhelming need to say thank you Trinidad and Tobago
with tears, deep gratitude
thank you for holding and carrying me these thirteen years
fearless, brave and enriching.
it has been a healing
a bitter pill to wholeness.

if it was just me and you i would give you an offering
of what i have no idea
to match your glorious indigenous history
and bespoiled magnificence of nature
i see you before and beyond where i stand.

this day thirteen years ago I landed in Trinidad.
i guess now in hindsight I should not feel bad in the bottles of vodka drank yesterday. Celebrations were happening that were silent.
Celebrations of Friendship. WooSah Sunday, Celebrations of time clocked in and spent. Celebration of the Journey, and Celebrations for the next dispensation.

i feel much blessed and better now. yes, grammar odd withstanding.
those bottles were bugging me. first time. glad it will end soon.
if trinidad not good for one thing , which is the erosion of standards and the ever moving edge of frontier and limits, to bad behavior, I dont know what is.

Sleep Mercian

 

i swear my sleep and its journeys and experiences is beginning to rival the mythical force, dream and allure of sex.

i slept for nine hours, after being alert and not getting near sleep until 2:30am

i remember moving a lot last night, adjusting and twisting and changing with my assortment of down pillows/ the only thing i did not do was change my orientation on the bed like when i came home over indulged thursday night. i often wish someone was here filming cause of how i imagine and feel myself in those times. that day i woke up at my bedhead, hugging the body pillow that often does not move, oriented horizontally from bed to side chair.. that was a first.

but last night was special.

i was travelling with my uncle and godfather Patrick Mercian Baptiste. We were either in some African country, a high floor in the UN, or somewhere else in Manhattan. but we were in a high rise office complex building, sterile and clean and quiet. and we were walking down a hallway from an elevator, and we passed a display glass cabinet. full of handmade, hand carved, rare valuable artifacts. and it was open. I no longer remember now who opened it, if it was me or him. and it was like we were moving as if we had the right to take what we wished, and i remembered from the dream one of the first sense I had was that it was hand intricately carved mont blanc pen. i remember there was just one item i was obsessed with amidst a good ten shelves.

i also got the sense we were stealing. but here is the thing. my uncle was or appeared to be the most uprighteous of men, the few who even behind your back always doing the right and honorable thing. i never asked my cousins, but i never got the impression he had other women even, so in this instance i am going against my own rule of life and thumb, here is one man who was loyal and faithful...but i cant explain this display case thing, except that, once we were done, he had the ability to lock that case! and he did.

So who is my uncle? and what was the message of this dream? and i dont remember finally keeping anything from the case, but this is not consistent with my feeling of stealing, but clearly, i had free reign to the case and its contents. and my uncle was dressed in this being cotton properly fitted suit, and he was a younger middle aged man at most, maybe my age now, but not in his 70s as he died. weird fascinating dream,

that dream is like some security blanket i have had since birth and u an a grown old woman writing.

so last night was so blowmind, as if that dream was not big enough, I had another dream..

this time I was driving nyc, we were all going pretty fast, 50mph for inner city is kind of flying, and the streets were full of cars, not like a sunday, holiday or evacuation. just odd for this environment. and i had my old malibu classic, the brown, same car, but it seemed a bit sleeker as if it was a bentley making believe it was a malibu. and i seem to remember a child in the car who seemed not to be a child but a miniature person. yeah. i know that reads funny. and some woman from somewhere, a white woman. i dont know who she was, it would seem as if the people were cars and we were moving in tandem, groups, or as friends, the fluidity of identity, space, beingness. her appearing when i got into the accident, after watching so many before me. it was like an obstacle course the roadway and our cars, we were to make it through escaping the altercations before us and reach our destination, if not to keep going, keep it moving. i think.

and it was either raining or the roads and cars were mysteriously wet, and there were a lot of accidents and fender benders. and i , get into one, i thought i hit a car like a bumper car, but the damage to my car was as if someone hit me, the whole driver's side, the right side, my right hand of the car. interesting now that the dream got that right. this shit ./ these travels be real as a mother. anyway. the car doors were bent in, the top by the glass, was also warped in, but the glass never shattered . they were intact, still glued. and it was a lot of damage, but the sense again was, not really, and it could have been worse, and one wonders when watching the damage, how it is no one in the car was hurt, and the car looks so badly damaged, but not shattered and disintegrated. and that child was not in a car seat but almost sitting on my hand rest in the front seat.

i now wonder who that child is. if it is real in the physical? or just a spirit form real. just like game of thrones last night the son and his guide who are ghosts and can be heard. those are the folk who be calling your name when no body is around, or pulling your hair, or toe, or blowing air on your face or arm. so that is where the dream ends: us surveying damage that seemed to be of no bother concern or consequence.

but at a time during the night cause I was so aware of my sleep, my dreams. at one moment I recounted them all while i slept. there was a third dream I think but i cant recall it now

maybe i should get into race driving where i am going

and maybe as reinforced, my uncle and my people have given me endless access to the resources, inputs and preparations i need for everything.. they are the ones holding the keys. in the spirit realm.

that in no area am i alone. even when among people i do not know. my progress and movement gets impeded, the army is present, be they just numbered one and two.

well at least i remembered the most important of the dreams

that is what i do when i am sleeping. bizarre huh?

 


a girlfriend last night, Astrid, told me her interpretation of the dream was that my time in trinidad idling, healing, liming, wasting is over. that cabinet is locked. time for me to go out and become myself.4

then i learned last evening at 6:39pm: when I was dreaming of Uncle Pat , his son, in houston was thinking of me, and ended up writing me that evening. the links, vibes and connections are strong

Melise, From Him

him:
"I'm headed for a nap. I tried your elixir again..this time with Cognac added."

me:

"oooohhh...how did it taste?"

him: 

"Warm and smooth!"

me:

"do you feel sleepy."

"when you trying to sleep there should be no screens, technology, busyness

it is like you do everything to shut down

maybe tv, and not an action violent film lol"

him:

"Sort of "undercover festive" feel to it."

me:

"lol. funny"

"that is what i want our life to be. my life always. "undercover festive" but i get the sense it hasnt always been so undercover"

him:

"...hmmm, I get that sense of you too. I think it keeps a person from taking themselves too seriously, if they just get about and enjoy."

me:

"that was one of my problems in my past, growing up as young as 18 and earlier. my highschool boyfriend, like just like a three or four years ago told me I had an attitude of I am the only one going to be successful and I remember that. now what is funny. I am the only one who has a phd. a lot of them are teachers or blue collar workers that not many of them went to college, and he was in hindsight a football slacker. all the way up to phd, i thought i was the shit.

i now realize that i might be the shit but if no one else sees, believes , beholds and supports that, i will be flailing in the wind."

And being genius or whatever, is irrelevant if you have no people about you, for you, who are your people. and i dont have that. so i have learned a lot

and for me my life now, is just hanging out, a bum, a nobody, i am on the road, not even the high falutin places i used to go to in michigan. but i am still a glitter golden girl in tatters"

him:

"...even enjoying the feel of your own body sliding twixt and between newly laundered sheets while outside a drenching rain shower drowns out even your own breath; empty...void..yet full, full indeed."

me:

"that is so me, and so perfect. that is where life for me resides. in the simple stuff in your hand

do you think you are a writer?"
...

me:

"hey you been writing for an hour??? or did you fall asleep with your finger on a button???"

him:

"No, but I remember a life we were considering building...together. We had begun settling into one another. And so, I just remember things about you...like sleeping soundly on fresh linen, having slippers for inside and for outside on your upstairs walkway...the "fresh egg" smell you do not like...your green thumb...how you like a hand gently on your belly as you have a good laugh...how angry you are to see things go to waste...and how you'd do whatever was needed for a true friend. You taught me how to enjoy your presence, in silence. You were growing then into the "you" I now get to be in the company of. You had tons more experiences than anyone I knew. Thinking back...that was likely a source of much frustration for you...that folk didn't get you, partly because many of us never lived outside our little bubbles! You had. And you knew what was out there. Your expressions of world realities fell on many a deaf ear. Until one day, Melise decided that her inner thoughts and being made her happy; and that there were those who "didn't get" her simply validated her original supposition. And Melise smiled_,and chuckled; and put on slippers to go out for fresh air, sweep her porch and water her small but vibrant garden."

"...and water her small yet vibrant garden."

me:

"you have writing talent. and the way you write about me is stunning. you need to figure out what to do with that. how to turn that into money , access and resources for us.

I am serious"

him:
"I know you are, Madam Executive Assistant to the Headmaster. As you are more versed in the nuances of the business of writing, I leave that planning to you; except for this one seed. Maybe you should meditate on things...then present me with a topic to write on; we could go from there?"

me:

"I am the topic. see how you miss me at my most obvious sometimes. that is the talent. the gift. the way you see and present me to the world.

that is meditative. done, confirmed. I am presenting it to you now, here again

HERE./....moves plate over to your side of the table"

 

him:
"Message received; I'll take a rest now, ok?

...plate received."

 

me:

"yes sorry to have kept you. do you need to make another toddy?"

 

him:
"I don't believe so. I'm drowsy and it's quiet...excepting the occasional yelp of a distant dog, or a pronounced car door slamming shut...."

 

me:

"i hope you sleep through the night.

Cheers"

Chat Conversation End

Awakened Academy: Circulate and Consider

https://www.generosity.com/education-fundraising/awakened-academy-early-learning-center


https://www.facebook.com/awakenedms/?fref=ts

NonDiversificiation is a form of Racism

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/05/11/opinion/if-philosophy-wont-diversify-lets-call-it-what-it-really-is.html?_r=0


Manuel Browne : "not sure how sciences can accomplish racism to be honest.
Secondly, if University schools only offer certain types of philosophy from different countries, that doesn't equate that philosophy itself is racist, the institution/university propagating that form of it, is."

ME:

hmmmm...

Exposure and Experience seems to be everything eh?

Go to a US university, pick any topic.

and if you have been exposed to any cultures, perspectives and thought outside the western white paradigm you will know none of that is catered for, to or integrated

Make it simple.

Go and do Rural Sociology and Development in an American university. And then do so at a university in the South , where there is a thing and region called the Black Belt. Indicating if you dont know the predomination of black african people, and that department will not let you research those communities, their problems, their challenges.

How do i know this. I tried to do research on Black Farmers and their experiences with the USDA with land ownership and services, which the USDA is for! Extension, and I was not allowed.

That is Racism

and when they do, the work and inquiry, the approach is very skewed, derelict, dominating as imposing. I can go on and on. I have the years of experience to document and prove it, and I have. I had an ethnographic essay of my phd Experience published, invited to present at numerous conferences on the issue.

Mind you, this happened because it is an acknowledged phenomena. You might want to be google, if you want to be honest on this matter. And it is not on just fields predominated by white males as many of my fields are: Animal Science, Agricultural Economics. When i was doing my degree there were a total of just three black =women doing phds in that field. one was from Africa,

Experience, Exposure, Knowledge, is everything.

There is a lot people dont know and live as if they do.

The bottom line here though is one must be totally versed in "Racism" what it is and isnt, how it shows up in various arenas such as academics, professions, and then for different regions and countries, as in the US, versus the Caribbean, versus Europe...There is a lot to know and learn and very few study that. Especially those must subjugated and effected.

Mind you to give you an even smaller example.

One of my favorite minors for my bachelors decades ago was World Religions. Do you want to take a guess of what religions and ways of life from people who were nonEuropean or the dominated religions were included. Take a wild guess.

Then I did philosophy as a subset area for my PhD, cause as you may know that stands for Doctor of PHILOSOPHY< so there is the study of what philosophy is, the major themes, authors, perspectives. As well as the philosophy of research I did, which is and would be a rarely known area of study in this caribbean...Do you want to take a wild guess of different paradigms were covered in that subset of courses in the late 90s, to 2002 or so?? wild guess.

One of the very things these courses teach against: BIAS, is the very thing the reinforce and perpetuate>

A lot to know and learn. even more to understand/

Racism and Bias, makes and accomplishes two of many things. One it breaks an aspirant academic down, one who wants to build an area of inquiry, research and publishing in a certain field. And they are disallowed. Guess what that accomplishes?

The other thing it can do, is make someone like myself carve my own territory, which i did. and the one sister I was studying with outside of two others, congratulated me after my completion...She thought I strategized and navigated well, and played the chess board laid out. Not for us to succeed but to fail and not complete. She didnt.

That is the ultimate effect of this matter. Those who are thwarted.

Talk about Racism.

The final thing you miss from your mis=reading of this?

IS that academia is predominately uniform across the globe. There are words for that: Colonialism and Domination, and White Supremacy Domination

So If "Secondly, if University schools only offer certain types of philosophy from different countries, that doesn't equate that philosophy itself is racist, the institution/university propagating that form of it, is" what that effects my friend is no one competent, trained, developed, experienced and qualified to do different.

System Reinforcement and Reproduction Much?

We have no clue how self replicating the systems we participate.

There is a reason for the call to people to educate themselves. Kind of like a certain Malcolm X saying , dont send your children to the enemy to teach

HomeSchooling TnT

Those Few Who

"...but her construction of feminism cannot be trusted. Her vision of feminism does not call for an end to patriarchal domination. It’s all about insisting on equal rights for men and women. In the world of fantasy feminism, there are no class, sex, and race hierarchies that breakdown simplified categories of women and men, no call to challenge and change systems of domination, no emphasis on intersectionality. In such a simplified worldview, women gaining the freedom to be like men can be seen as powerful. But it is a false construction of power as so many men, especially black men, do not possess actual power. And indeed, it is clear that black male cruelty and violence towards black women is a direct outcome of patriarchal exploitation and oppression."

"In her fictive world, Beyoncé can name black female pain, poignantly articulated by the passionate poetry of Somali-British poet Warsan Shire, and move through stages evoked by printed words: Intuition, Denial, Forgiveness, Hope, Reconciliation. In this fictive world, black female emotional pain can be exposed and revealed. It can be given voice: this is a vital and essential stage of freedom struggle, but it does not bring exploitation and domination to an end. No matter how hard women in relationships with patriarchal men work for change, forgive, and reconcile, men must do the work of inner and outer transformation if emotional violence against black females is to end. We see no hint of this in Lemonade. If change is not mutual then black female emotional hurt can be voiced, but the reality of men inflicting emotional pain will still continue (can we really trust the caring images of Jay Z which conclude this narrative)."

I wrote something like this a few weeks ago: the making of lemonade is a celebration of victimhood, a means to make love to trauma and heartbreak, making something palatable of what is not, which is what women do when they rationalize staying with abuse ugly men, which is what citizens do when they cower their soul for a paycheck

"playing dead to catch corbeaux alive" we tell ourselves so many lies to make palatable our own forms of contempt, self and outer, other.

the dance and sex, seduction and making love of contradictions and misalignment, never ever the power of agency, resolve, closure and never again

"“I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner-strength to pull myself up.” To truly be free, we must choose beyond simply surviving adversity, we must dare to create lives of sustained optimal well-being and joy. In that world, the making and drinking of lemonade will be a fresh and zestful delight, a real life mixture of the bitter and the sweet, and not a measure of our capacity to endure pain, but rather a celebration of our moving beyond pain."

 "It is only as black women and all women resist patriarchal romanticization of domination in relationships can a healthy self-love emerge that allows every black female, and all females, to refuse to be a victim. "

 http://www.bellhooksinstitute.com/blog/2016/5/9/moving-beyond-pain

to remove pain from our lives, to remove ourselves from all forms of pain. i swear, I literally just had this discussion email inbox with my old friend, a past government minister. i asked him for a ride and he wanted to ask me all these questions. fuck outta here. make yourself useful or shut up. and i had to tell him he lost all forms of respect with everyone i know, but here he is trying to check my choice to remove myself from violence and abuse that is called trinidad and its member citizens. it was kind of wild. one of those watershed moments that may remain silent, recessed. without words

then he writes me this delightfully reading message that i did and will not respond to. we dont know what love is and you know how many people in this small space of a country i have this same contempt for. man, woman, old, contemporaries.. just plain old fraudulence

"much love and more power to ya

I wish you peace and love

probably id fly into your flame when we meet again

I love ya "

in that communication thread, I tried to write moth and wrote mother. and for the first time i saw the similarity, what has a moth to do with being a mother?

this person of an old very close friend basically mirrored to me that I am a moth endlessly flying into flames, and each time not perishing but surviving., like i am that catchick of endless lives; impervious to fire. so apt. so real. and probably the reason I am always sweating. perspiring, beaded with perspiration. that internal cauldron fire.

it is not to ignore what people say of you , you know.

it is to hear it clearly and well, and know what is the true mean and engine, oil and pistons behind it.

i felt too i was asking a friend to do their little bit of just carrying me around...in my plan to escape the prison, when they know full well, they cant escape, though they dreadfully need to, and their attempt at escape failed miserably, dismally, with not even his self respect in the end. so how does he, the emblem of trinidad character gather himself up to help me fly. he is one of the ones who tended the fire my moth flew into believing i had friends and supporters

those of us who move apart and remove ourselves from and remove pain from our sphere and life. the few who dont make lemonade in life.

lemonade is for the garden party and for gin, jack daniels and vodka. not for life