Today my girlfriend of all of a year left for Los Angeles. We met a year ago. Online of all places. I saw her picture and I thought she was interesting to look at. Masculine and feminine. I like a certain sort of mixture. Somewhere they need to mingle in a certain specific proportion. Something about her expression suggested that to me. Clothing is optional in the potrayal of this quality. The way she held herself, Her hands. That is so fucking gay. Her hands. So touchy fucking feely like the granola, tea drinking, skipping through the forest lesbian that I am. Apparently I am feeling self indulgent.
I was in bed with her last night for the absolute last time that I can see being near her in the next month at least. There are few worse feelings than 9am the morning you have to leave. I had to go to work. I had to leave. This morning was such a hard morning. I didn't want to talk about the plane or the apartment she had there or what she would do when she got there. I wanted to walk to the train station. I wanted to walk slowly like I had all the time in the world.
We met and saw each other as the type that wouldn't see each other. We both acknowledged it. I feel that she makes me look at myself differently. I have seen so much of her world and how she fits herself into it. I admire the way she does her thing. She is able to use her resources effectively and to act when she is down. I find that amazing. How does a person learn to do that? I do what have to to survive. I work, I pay my bills and tell as few lies as I can. The truth is easier to remember. I have thought my way through all crisis. I have always tried to stay on an even keel. She has made me think about whether the realism of my outlook is really a pessimists cope out. She makes me want to believe dreaming larger than life gives you something to live for; actively working toward it make life worth living and it seems taking risks to see it happen makes you feel alive.

I love her. I took my time to study her. Habit by habit.Negative and positves. I wrote it out in the space between us. I saw what I liked and what I could do without. I still love her. This is an unfamiliar feeling.This is loss, but not loss. She is far away not lost to me but still so far away from where I am. I took the cllothes I had at her house
Time, distance and space. I have all these funny fantasies that involved mundane things like walking down the street with her hand on my hip. Her fingertips on the the skin between waist and shirt hem. Laying on a blanket with her in the sun.
Ah shit... I don't even understand what it is.

This is a shot of me taken at Ft greene during soul summit last year...

Makes me look all innocent and shit. Hahahahahaha!

ne·gri·tude or Ne·gri·tude
An aesthetic and ideological concept affirming the independent nature, quality, and validity of Black culture.

soul
1.The animating and vital principle in humans, credited with the faculties of thought, action, and emotion.
2. The central or integral part; the vital core
3. A strong, deeply felt emotion conveyed by a speaker, a performer, or an artist.

A blog seems to be the exhibitionist diary. This is my sounding board for the thoughts that crawl around my conciousness. Black is what I am and by speaking my reality I make it valid through space and time. I am woman as well and by framing that reality with definite borders I will know the boundaries that need to be broken.