The Evolution of Perspective

I am thoroughly bored with being human. I'm tired of dealing with my kind. I'm definitely changing. I'm not fascinated by the shiny things and with people right now. And it's not that life is not exciting. It's not that life has even changed very drastically. I think that I've just had my fill of the experiences that I've had for the last 41 years.  I think....scratch that, I know that I am absolutely sick of the lowly aspects of humanity. I find myself shrinking and pulling back from participating in them. They don't feel the same. They don't give me the same "thing" that I got from it before.  Gossiping ain't fun no more. Every time I do it, I know that I'm putting horrible energy into the atmosphere. I'm contributing to more bowl chit. Laughing at people's fuggups ain't interesting to me anymore. I haven't become super serious. I do understand personal pain a little bit differently though.  Being uninsp

People close to me know that I am very transparent about my experience being a mother. I had my first child at 18. I had a small inkling of what parenthood and motherhood were. I knew that I needed to teach her to read and write and spell her name and say her manners. I knew that I would be responsible for her for a very long time. I'd teach her about life and what I had learned so far. (How arrogant of me to believe that 18 years of experience as a human being was enough to begin to show somebody something!) I had my second child right before my 21st birthday. I had to teach him the same things AND I had to figure out how to get him to pee standing up. Again, 21 years of experience as a human being seemed like enough at the time. I wouldn't advise anyone to do it today. I had my third child when I was 27. I hadn't begun to make sense of my life in what felt like a meaningful way. I was still reeling from choices I made when I was 18 and 21. I was busy doing things that

I announced (both to myself and out loud) that I would be writing a blog about love this month. Those of you who expect this to be a traditional monversation (conversation of one) might be a little disappointed. It's ok though. Life gets better. Soooooooooo, LOVE. L.O.V.E. LOVE. You know what I used to think love was? I used to think love was tossing myself to the ground in order to be someone's stepping stone to self-esteem. I used to think that love was all give with sprinkles of take topped with a lot of resentment. I used to think that love was ugly, hurtful, and a waste of time. I used to think that love was taking what didn't "belong to me" and providing a temporary fix. I used to think that love was taking that which was broken and doing THE MOST to help it to get better (while making myself sick in the process). I used to think that love was convincing someone of how great I am....because obviously they ain't looking at me right *tilts their head a

Anyone who knows me knows that I cuss. A LOT. And while I don't cuss all day every day of my life, I speak with a very colorful language sometimes. I cuss when I am happy. I cuss when I am angry (especially). I cuss when I am frustrated. I cuss when I am hurt. Yesterday and some days before that, I was angry about what someone close to me was being subjected to. My reaction during the conversation was filled with the proclamation "FUCK _________________" I said it. I meant it when I said it. I meant it after I said it. AND THEN IT HIT ME to ask myself, "What do you mean when you're telling someone FUCK YOU or saying "FUCK ______________"? What does that mean? I never thought about it before. I NEVER thought about what it meant to me before. I just used the words....caustically and passionately. All this recent talk about rape culture and misogyny filtered its way into my thought process. Ellen Gee, what do you mean when you tell someone &q

Ellen Gee, girl, you are crazy. They don't sell bread at the hardware store.  OH I KNOW. I'm just sitting here trying to figure some things out. I'd posted on social media recently that I don't expect decency from indecent people. I meant it when I said it too. Who was I talking about specifically? Mostly the media. Mainstream, white media. I was thinking about other people too but mostly referring to them. Here's a thing that's on my wishlist for 2016: 1. Black people stop expecting non-black people to tell black stories the way black people would tell black stories. ANYWHERE. EVERYWHERE. JUST STOP. a. they don't share our experiences or perspectives b. they don't seem to care about the truth our experiences or perspectives If you don't like somebody, when you talk about them, do you paint them in an accurate, positive light? If you don't know somebody, when you talk about them, can you paint them in an accurate, positive light? If