The Music (Still Need H.E.R.)

"Strength, Courage, & Wisdom" by India.Aire

...inside my voice there is a soul / and inside my soul there is a voice...

I don't think people love music like we do. I don't think people understand what music does for a body. People think my tattoo is "gay"...You're not a musician Z...You don't sing Z...Why Music Notes?

Because I love Her. I love Her to death. Like other people have tats of their lovers, I got a tat of my lover's name too. And that's fine.

The worst thing in the world could happen to me and I have a feeling that even then, She'll be able to comfort me. And it won't be temporary either.

Because comfort is always temporary. No one can be around all the time to remind you that you will be okay, that you're a champ, that you're perfect (by you I mean Christina), that you're dope, that you're strong, that you're cool. They can tell you occasionally. They can text you sometimes and tell you. But, thanks to mp3 players, music can tell you all the time; always be a comfort.

Courtesy of my best girl, my man, my love...Music...

How to Save a Life

"The Heart of the Matter" by India.Aire

...I've been tryin' to live without you now / but I miss you baby / the more I know / the less I understand / and the things I thought I'd figure out / I have to learn again...

I miss my Mom. I do not have any fancy words or pretty metaphors to say I miss my Mom. Language is not glamorous enough to explain the angst of having a mother but being so disconnected from her.

On days like these, when I can only hear the sad songs, I cry all day about her. I wonder if she thinks about me and I wish I could tell her about how much I think about her.

I fear picking up a phone to call her. I fear feeling the heat of her frustration and anger through the phone. I know she is disappointed, pissed, sad, etc., but I do not want her to tell me that.

I just want to hear her voice. She does not have to say much and we need not have a discussion about anything important. I just want to hear her talk. I want to hear her laugh that is more a gentle cackle. I want to sit next to her and watch the scary things that she watches.

I want to hear explain why she is still upset that Hillary did not win the nomination. I want to hear her teach me about women; motivate me to be a feminist. I want her to make krain krain for me.

I want to lay in her bed while she talks to the television or sends my Daddy to fetch her something. I want to go to sleep with her.

Sometimes I miss her so much I start to wonder if she even really exists. I wonder if I ever had a mother because she and her memory are so distant and fuzzy but near and convivial too. I miss her so much that the tears well up in my eyes and fall directly to my lap. The do not even touch my skin. I miss her so much that I cannot imagine why I was ever mad at her.

Some days I cry so much I feel as though my face has turned ugly. I shower and pull out a black bag full of Mac and Revlon make-up and I paint my face and hide the sad behind bronze eyeshadow and midnight black eyeliner. I erase my puffs with light foundation. I always have to do it twice to cover up the tear trails left while I cry because I want to watch her put make-up on.

And then I look so pretty. I look just like her. The older I have gotten the more they all have said I look just like her. It is like punishment to look like her, see her in my smile and my random facial expressions, hear her in my laugh, but have her nowhere near.

...I've been tryin' to get down to the heart of the matter / because the flesh gets weak/ and the ashes will scatter / so I'm thinkin' about...forgiveness...

The Realest Thing I Ever Heard

"Made Up My Mind" by Lyfe Jennings

Lord they really think they foolin' you by comin' to church on Sunday

prayin' and layin' hands on folks, stompin' and jumpin' around fakin' the holy ghost

but it's a thin line line between walkin' it and talkin' it

livin' it and givin' it or just pretendin' it's alright

and did they really think that they could pull the wool over Your eyes, Lord?

did they really think that by fakin' they were saved they would get the same reward?

this be the realest thing I ever wrote for sure

and after this a lot of folks won't like me no mo'

but after this I gotta go answer to You Lord

so I made up my mind that I'ma go to church on Sunday

and sing a song that may hurt somebody's feelings so that maybe

Thy will, will be done

on earth as it is in heaven

and hopefully the will see

how much they really be discouragin' a little ol' sinner like me...

And Lord who they think they jivin' by singin' these songs full of glory

then out in the world it's a different story

I'm runnin' outta people to pray for me

and I'm not tryin' to act like I'm the perfect man

but if you speak about it, you should be about it, not just preach about it all day

'cause if you do you run the risk of chasin' some of the most beautiful people away

and it is never my intention to discourage you, rather encourage you

to change your life today

this be the realest thing I ever had to say

and after this a lotta folks won't like me no mo'

but after this I gotta go answer to You Lord

so I made up my mind, I'ma go to church on Sunday

and sing a song that may hurt somebody's feelings so that maybe

Thy will, will be done

on earth as it is in heaven

and hopefully they will see

how much they really be discouragin' a little ol' sinner like me...

Standard Blue

"Smoke That Kush" by Lil Wayne
...let's make a toast to you and me...

I'm not feeling all that damn magical. I'm feeling that normal depression; that solemnity everyone is accustomed to.

That standard blue.

But it's not boo-hoo sad where your dreams are a long street of dilapidated buildings and your hopes are deflated balloons just before the biggest birthday bash of your life.

It's just that standard sadness when you feel sad about your life, what you did, what didn't do, what you do, what you can't do. But at the same time, your fine with the mess.

I realize that I don't try and that I could do better but messing up your life takes energy. Even though the attempts I have made have been half assed, they were genuine in the beginning and enough false starts will exhaust you.

I'm exhausted. I've milked the system and the system has packed up and moved. And I'm not following this time.

So, you don't like what I do. You think my values and my integrity and my morals (and all those other things that separates us from the other animals in the kingdom) are compromised. You are right. It is a shame that this is how I think I should be; that this is how I live. Nonetheless, it's still my life. I have to wake up and be me every morning. I have to rummage through my memories everyday. Chill and be glad you aren't me.

You don't get to judge at the manifestation of my psychosis. If anything, pray for this girl. And pray that I pray. But I loved you. I wasn't using you. And the vitriol comes from the fact that you are angry and upset and feel betrayed and there is nothing I can do.

The emails and phone calls don't mean shit because all the conversation in the world has never been known to put hearts or soulmates back together.