Sunday, June 7, 2009

Graduation photo

My niece Deisi making that transition from middle school to high school.
She was all smiles and cheerful, she commented on how some of her friends were
crying but she couldn't see why. My brother was all serious and a proud papi snapped picture after picture.

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Monday, November 19, 2007



It was not my fault.
I put the effort forth.
It was not my choice.
I gladly accept the decision.
It concludes my faith in karma; mine certainly is bad.
I couldn’t have created or related to the subject 5 years ago.
It is not my fault.
I and you are geological faults.
It we are planar rock fractures, which show evidence of relative movement.
I was in circular movement.
It the relationship counter clockwise rotation.

In geology, a fault or fault line is a planar rock fracture, which shows evidence of relative movement. Large faults within the Earth's crust are the result of shear motion and active fault zones are the causal locations of most earthquakes. Earthquakes are caused by energy release during rapid slippage along faults. The largest examples are at tectonic plate boundaries but many faults occur far from active plate boundaries. Since faults do not usually consist of a single, clean fracture, the term fault zone is used when referring to the zone of complex deformation that is associated with the fault plane.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Thank the GODS its friday

I just want to cry my eyes out.
Rip my eyes out from the sockets; bash myself in the back of the head.
My soul is dark is black.
I can’t bear up under the pressure; I got my foot on my neck crushing out all the words.
I see myself as myself shaking, shaking, shaking the hell out of my baby self.
My skin is cold and wet I’m dead dying to get out of my skin.
Screaming the voices are crowded in my brain causing causing me extreme distress, diarrhea, tears, fears, worries, pain.
My brain is on fire I’m a live wire ready to explode.
Shoot the shit out of my misery.
I want to give the bluest eye a black eye, stupid Mary Jane candies gets stuck in my teeth.
Get me some good ole tasty collard greens, corn bread and sweet tea to wash down the taste of torment as I peer into the looking glass at my soul.
Hollow and fake fragile as porcelain and just as easy to break.
Don’t stop me now I’m on a roll you wanted a story to be told.

Untitled and unfinished, Angee continues

I’m on all fours praying to the porcelain goddess. Retching up my guts from being drunk on self-hate, self mutilation, date rape, spouse abuse, drug misuse ughhhhh! I vomit into the toilet bowl.

I’m on the banks of the river Nile; Isis protectively holds back my locs from my face as I purge my body of all its dis-ease. Transformed into Hathor balancing gingerly on wobbly knees. Spewing tumors and cancer, venereal disease, AIDS, plagues escape my lips.

I’m deep in the delta, back weary hands calloused and I see a hand with a bullwhip hovering above me. Damn, this is the slave history in me. So I lock my knees and brace my body for the whip. As my skin is being broken I pray to the goddess of the fertile ground let my blood nourish you. Strengthen you so that you might grow rumble and quake shaking all this misery away.

I vomit up the sun rise and shit out the moon. I am the b-i-t-c-h that rides the Milky Way on a broom. At the moment of my pleasure waves lick at the seashore, birds flutter through the air. Orgasmic volcanic eruptions hot loving lava stream forth. Earth quaking erotic moans of shearing white lighting pleasure emitted with supersonic screams send creatures of the night dizzy. Billions of stars ejaculated my cosmic lover comes. My milk feeds and is consumed by nations of men birthed from a red clay womb. My body is not a tomb to lay rest bodies of war tearing earthly wounds. Gashes dug deeply in my skin men plunder my precious cavity deplete me of natural resources.

Carrying the weight of our world on my shoulders, I carry the weight of its pain on my back. I strap a baby on my back as if it were a lithe nap sack. I am woman, am mother, am a clever creature with a baby as a nap sack. Truth be told I’m as old as the rivers as wide as the seas. I am mother to the trees swift are the licks I strike out a lash of sweet summers breeze as easy as I please.

This is from a writing exercise to promote healing for DV survivors I decided to share. This blog is a space for my transformation where I can express me.

Thursday, November 15, 2007


Today I Made the decision to get my son back. Three yrs. ago I let my son go live with his father. At the time I was going through some stuff mentally, financially, emotional craziness withe my man. I was just crazy so my son and his father had been putting the idea of a shared living arrangement out there. So out of sheer frustration, mental exhaustion and no back up I let my son go. This is a decision that i regret every minute of everyday. I feel as if I've abandon my son. I know his father loves him, but his motives for having our son live with him I question. He recently told Coree that he can't move until he's 18yrs old. My ex-husband is known for being a manipulator,liar and bully. I don't like to interact with him because every time turns out bad for me. My man is no help plus he's another story. So I'm hoping this will go smoothly and Coree will move back home.

Monday, November 5, 2007


Main Entry: dis·con·nect·ed
Function: adjective
Date: 1783
: not connected : separate; also : incoherent

— dis·con·nect·ed·ly adverb
— dis·con·nect·ed·ness noun

I borrowed this word from another Blog.

We were connected in the beginning our goals, dreams and kisses.

Goals became jobs

Jobs turn into careers.

Dreams weave into wishes and kisses are now sneers

We are now disconnected in the end our goals, dreams and kisses.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Thank the GODS its friday

First this PMS ain't no joke!
I'm sitting at my desk about to cry I'm so emotional right now I scare myself.
Today is a teachers institution day basically no school.
So Anise is at home (my 17y/o high school Senior) and she got friends over.
Ken her father is having a hissy fit-"why they got to come over here?"
This is the same argument every time she has guest.
We just moved into this very nice duplex and I arranged it so that the kids are downstairs and we're up.
Every other place we've had he had turned into his office living room dine area our bedroom.
So now at 17 she can have a little company over, Don't see the problem.
He makes my ass itch with all his complaining about her company.
He has an office upstairs close the door.
I'm at the point were I sick of always trying to make him comfortable.
His office that is fully furnished (we ain't got a living room couch yet)doesn't have a TV. So him and his laptop are parked in front of my closet door, I got to climb around his big yellow ass to get dressed.
So we got cable this f*&8er was using my massage table as a desk downstairs.
My plan was to go into the Spa business with my sister but plans change when I had to go back to being a nurse full time his business took a slump.
Well I'm not going to stop the kids from enjoying what little they have left of their childhood. FUCK HIM

Wednesday, October 31, 2007


Today is trick or treat day there's a party in the office.

pot luck I was in got 5$ on chicken group.
I get asked where's your costume:


Don't play with me, they know dang on well I don't do costumes.
Plus I already announced I'm not in the mood today.
So happy Halloween you ghost and ghouls