Gender Studies is STILL alive...

I just read this post that a young female wrote two years ago on Word Press that I have found utterly amazing and inciteful. It was a post discussing white privilege and female liberation through the self. I was beyond shocked to see that other people still care about these issues. I haven't posted anything in a very long time on blogspot for a couple of reasons. For one, I want people to read what I write. I want people to take away something that they haven't thought about. And I never see that response from people. For two, I want to connect with other scholars. I want to have brilliant conversations that can help us change the world. And I never really have those sorts of conversations on blogspot. I want to put more of an active effort into making blogspot a medium where informed discussions can be had. I am still trying to procreate the world, one letter at a time. And I would love for blogspot to be a part of this transformation.

P.S> If you are interested in the girl's link that I was talking about earlier, I have enclosed link in this post.

colewardell.wordpress.com

I can understand why

The other day my girlfriend and I were having a conversation about cheaters. What provokes people to step outside of their relationship and cheat? After watching a few people around me cheat, I feel like I can understand why people do it. There seems to be fundamental problems going on that makes people want to seek control back in their relationship and/or lives. For example, someone who shall remain anonymous, is cheating on their boyfriend and/or husband. From the outside, one may not understand why. But from the inside, there are insecurities issues that prevents the wife and/or girlfriend from moving and acting as she pleases. So, to seek the little bit of control she can personally get, she cheats.  That makes sense to me. But one wonders, then why stay with the person if he is controlling? Time and investments put into the relationship is what is why. It is not easy to just pick up and leave after years of time and energy invested in that relationship. And counseling may not always help. So what then?

This entry is inspired by my own relationship. I am experiencing a moment in my relationship where I am realizing something about my partner. Something about myself. And thats CONTROL. Who gets it? Who has more of it? How can we evenly have control in something that we both invested in together?...hmmmmmm I am still working on these answers. Just wanted to put my thoughts out there to roam the internet, hopefully into the hands of someone who can answer these questions.

A nightmare

All the legal legalities of my imagination 

has increased my awareness to figure 
out the truth from lies and in reality everything is a lie...

cofuzzled words of 
habeus corpus and other immaculately designed words 

used to confuse me and My 
mental instability...

I'm desperate to find some truth in all my madness. 

I take a deep breath and search 

through all my emotional hidden white lies to reveal my 
vertical kind if horiZontal axis of liberations. 

I am a black college female...

grad school bound even if I'm miserable woman 

deserted in between two crossroads 

and I'm suppose to find a path all my own...

I'm scared. Sighing as I 
close my eyes I can not afford to be different...

because being different is a luxury and I am only working with necessities... 

I do not have the fare to pass go and collect my 200 dollars. 

Oh no!! 

I have to work twice as hard just to get my $2.25 

well now $2.50 just to take the train ride along. 

Sitting next to my 
privileged counterpart I envy everything that is awarded to her. 

My sexuality is 
a jail cell alone...locked in my own body I am only but this human shell 

trying to be something other than a black college female 

or confined to a sexual label 
i didn't place on myself...

so reality has proved to be one thing...

a dream 
inside of a dream 

inside of a nightmare

News Report for this Week

Here at my school things have been going up and down. My grades have been....a mess this past semester. I have not done all that I could do to get them where they NEED to be. And because of this, I was granted (requested.)(forced) to meet with the dean of academics in my school. She is this sweet older woman who runs the academic department in the school. Yay me? Not exactly. I am nervous about defending my grades to people. But today is judgement day! And I have to be held acocuntable for my actions from last semester. (urgh)


On to other news...the weather is getting a lot better in cold Pennyslvania. The sun is coming out earlier...and staying out longer. The wind chill is slowing down. And this past week, the weather has just been getting better and better.


This is Zaraya. Back to you readers :)

What to do??

She Doesn't care about me and when I confronted her about it...this is what she did. URGH. She doesn't love me...(joking. She really does)

You Know Me

I woke up this morning
 to this
 beautiful text message
it boasted about all the things you knew about me
my favorite flowers and clothes and accessories
you spoke
to me
without a voice
using your words
before I was even conscious
It was literally the first thing
I saw this morning
Your content with my favorites
my food...my day to day personality
You knew this...
You knnow me more than you realize
and thats scary...in a good way
because sometimes, when I feel disconnected, like you dont know me...
these moments help me realize that you do.

DISINFECTANT WIPES

I bleed. Red. Blue. Orange. Yellow. All the colors

all the shades

all the hues

I cry in languages that only pain would understand

I envy those that are happy

I am jealous of those who can fake their happiness more than I can

I beckon for my lovers to break through my shield

and see the real me that people rarely sees

but she may not be strong enough to fight the resistance

she may not be dedicated to the struggle that is sure to come

I want to tell her my secrets 

I wish so bad that I can

but I would rather die...

I would rather...

use disinfectant wipes to clean cut marks off her wrist 

off my wrists

off your legs and thighs

I bleed just as strongly as she does

and her pain is my pain

it's your pain

it's this sisterhood

We just need disinfectant wipes to clean up all the dirt.

All the pain.

All the blood.

(I know this poem is sort of morbid but therapeutic)