reggins & flies
last entry I wrote I used the word regginometry. now...in order for you to fully overstand the weight of this word I'll have to break it down in such a way as to not offend or unnerve (look at that...a "gett off" reference...and it's not even prince day anymore...) my father calls black folk reggins. if you wonder why just read reggin backward and it'll be all the clearer. this is some shit my dad actually made up when he was a youngin...reggin that is...he just had a penchant for saying certain words backwards...he still does it...sounds like the reggin speaking alien or something. so regginometry, utilizing the suffix "- metry", which means measurement, literally translates to "nigga measurement". you can take the nigga out the ghetto but you can't take the ghetto out the nigga - therefore, regginometry = nigga shit!
I'll elaborate.
regginometry. in the summertime at howard university females dress up all stiletto-'d out for their early classes just so when they get out at noon they can look hot on the yard. now DC got hills, yo...so...these bitches will walk a quarter of a mile from the towers to the school of B, for instance, up a 45 degree incline at 7am in strappy 4 inch sandals just so when the que dogs start steppin at noon they can be dressed appropriately. nigga shit. these east coast dudes in powder pink t-shirts down to mid-calf with matching kicks and PINK yankees hats...nigga shit. potluck weddings...nigga shit. the beauty salons in the bronx...these women will walk out the salon and to the bodega, the laundry mat, the pizza spot...all with the conditioning cap on...nigga shit (boricuas are niggas too, do not front!). playing "jesus walks" in the strip club cause it has a hot beat...nigga shit. this entry right here...nigga shit. politically correct it is not. regginometry.
my fourth of july was okay, I don't have anything interesting to report other then I got my hair done and the braids are still so tight it throws off my equilibrium.
so the good part, sort of, is that I can cry again. I cried friday actually, a lot. inconspicuously, as I was at work. I was just so frustrated inside over some botched travel plans it was making me sick...I just wanted to motherfucking scream. I hate it when I feel that way, you really have no idea yo. the way I felt was akin to feeling hopeless, like no matter how much you want something to go right, no matter how much you put into it, it can still get royally fubar beyond your control regardless...that makes me lose hope in shit. not all, but at least some. at least like, ounces. a pound and shit. I'm just an extra mile going kind of motherfucker but I have my days where I don't wanna do it no more...like, why do so when theres always the possibility that it won't even matter? a year ago I would've said some hippy shit about how that makes someone a more complete person. a few days ago I would've said whatthefuckever at that hippy shit. I would've said fuck the extra mile, from now on I'm going just far enough...if even that. right now I'm at a so-called happy medium. kinda teetering.
dig it...once so many things go wrong, how many things depends on the person I reckon, I think it's a natural reaction to start pretending shit is sweet and that whatever is wrong really doesn't even exist. some would call it denial, I call it a survival instinct to a degree, especially to a person such as I, who gets painful, debilitating migraines when stress is in attendance. you pretend. otherwise you'll start questioning everything...if there's any moral good at all in the universe an shit...if anything you know to be wonderful is as flawless as you see it...or is that just your blurry eyes...?
if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it fall, does it make a sound? it does. sound waves don't rely on recipients to exist. what if that tree denied the sound was ever made because no one heard it? what then? even though that tree knew it made a sound, it could feel "safe" denying it because there'd be no definite proof to counter it. heads that lie don't really see themselves as liars...their "untruths" don't even become full-fledged lies until they get caught in them. in reality...they're a noisy ass tree, yo. that was a stretch making that a metaphor, you understand, but its right knowledge to me. trees are falling in my forest..its a natural reaction to pretend they're not. rather a survival instinct. no stress.
today was inxs day. every single woman has a devil inside.