Monday
I am the addict Desiring with needs Burning with the desire to held and loved.
Words control the lust to be desired I feel passion between verse I am the voice within
With a thirst to be heard. I am the darker sister Whose words are As sensitive as her skin
Where gifted words Disguises its meaning inside I am the voice within Flowing aluminous words Into meaning
As Sand flows Through loose fingers. My love for you as crazy the voice within
Often taken for granted My words reveal no lies
But tell the true meaning of Loss, pain, anger, and grief
I am the addict Desiring with needs Burning with to be desired I feel passion
With a thirst to be heard I am the voice within Words of innocence Morning space and time
Of an aesthetic value often misunderstood I am the voice behind these words
I am the addict Desiring with needs Often mistaken for self-hate
In its true essence, the voice within The voice within is challenged Seeking, finding, searching For its own identity to breath
No, I'm not ego tripping I am the addict Desiring with needs Often mistaken for self-hate
In its true essence, the voice within I'm just keeping it real I am the addict
Desiring with needs Often mistaken for self-hate, the voice within
In its true essence I am the poem I am the addict Desiring with needs
Often mistaken for self-hate In its true essence Who challenges thought
This is crazy - the voice within Within hope and loss Within love and pain
Within happiness and anger Are the words I speak of empathy I am the voice within I ain't got long Im ego tripping
Today, I awoke sadly detoured with the same routine as usual. The alarm
sounds off, but I wait. I am weak from normal. I would wake up to my cat
licking me in the face, but no more. My cat is dead. I am alone. after all I
silence is serine and quiet peace. I cannot contain silence. Silence is being
alone in the dark where you are blinded and cannot see. Alone, I cannot
be afraid of anything. I am free to think silently and meditate about life. I
am at peace with the world. I listen vacantly to the sound of a pen
dropping. Instead I hear my heart is bleating, bleeding eternally inside and
I don't have the patience to listen. Alone in this empty shell, time has no
relevance.
Tuesday
Alone in my dreams, I am a ballerina princess. In my dream I wear a pink
gown that covers my feet and a tiara made of gem stones. I express my
love for life by swaying and prancing to Betoken in Swan Lake. My body
snaps to the precision of the music. I can feel the piano notes play as my
body is positioned to be held as I dance and sway and dance and sway with
pride as if I am somebody today. Today, is the day I believe that I can fly.
Wednesday
I have an attitude that says I am different and no one really cares. It is my
attitude about life that makes me stand out from others and some admire
me for the ability to carry certain ways. It comes from the personality that
allures people to pay attention. It is within the way I walk and smile that
can light up a room of spectator wondering what I am going to do next.
With certainty of influence on others I fear that I am not at all alone in this
world.
Thursday
Today, I am no different that the person who is happy. I am not different
than the person who is confident. I am no different than the person who
is needy. I am no different than the person who is sad. I am not different
than the person in power. I am no different than the person who prayed. I
am no different than the person in love. I am no different than the person
who was commended for trying or the one person who got a promotion
or the one person who took the time out to help others. I am no different
than any one person out there, because today, I put forth the effort to try
to be somebody today. I dared to dream.
Friday
I am not connected to change for any reason. Change is sometimes good
when things go your way. It is bad if it does not work out. It is super when
your thoughts are motivated. You are excited if you are inspired.
Everything is everything but what you want it to be but you are willing to
accept things as they are and yet as time goes by we progress into another
state of being or time frame that we have no control over than to accept
things one day at a time.
Winter 2014: DIARY JOURNAL
I know no thirst, behind this peace of mind No familiar faces,
behind this peace of mind Abandoned trust, behind this peace of mind
Broken, death will come some day Ill-exposed by all the lies told
Words of informality ill-imagined delusions
There must be a better place in this world
To heal the pain I now feel inside
A place where solitude solicits my tears
Solicits my fears of being touched
Not by thoughts, I felt I loved once inside
Deeply hidden rage holds a place dear to my heart I've been raped
Alone in the night My innocence exercises,
The pain, the fears, the tears I share Holds a dangerous place inside Ready to explode...
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I know no thirst, behind this peace of mind No familiar faces,
behind this peace of mind Abandoned trust, behind this peace of mind
Broken, death will come some day Hit by the bearer of my roots
No way It came unexpected, an intrusion I never wanted to hide
I never invited you to walk on the idea I wanted you to have me
No not this, not like this The memory of your breath
The heat from inside Scatter thoughts of dead faces
Moldering imprints in my mind... Your voice Your laugh Your love for me
Have become the stones of sin... Alone in the night.
The memories of love Are of naked dreams That wiped away my innocence
What was of us Does not matter, of love... Nothing to do, but take my morning pill
And when sunrise comes I'll be going another direction
Without meaning, words have said its last good bye... Alone I hide the pain
Monday
I am reliving the past. I never know what to expect. I am living an imaginary
life that has no presence. I cannot fell or see what is next to come. Life is a
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manager of dreams in hope that you live to see it through. Nothing is real.
There is no emotions. People become circumstance. They are a figment of
your imagination. I cannot see. I cannot feel. I am trapped in a maze and
do not know which direction is out. I am stuck in a time capsule of thoughts
that will not let go. I am non-existence to reality. I am invisible to light.
Tuesday
I am tired of wanting things. Desiring is not necessary in life. There is more
out of life than having to want. There is encouragement, purpose and hope
for others that is far more meaningful. Having to help someone solve their
problems is meaningful. Having helped someone achieved a goal in life is
more meaningful. Purpose is fate in life. It is the drive in your journey of
self-acknowledgement, self-worth and self-discovery. I have a need to
reason with time to discover the purpose in life as manful.
Wednesday
I had a conversation with the moon today. It is when the universe began
to make since to me. There is a galaxy of stars or planets that evolve around
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 8
time and for eternity there is a celestial light that shines from the sun
giving a beam of life that escapes for eternity through space. Today, I saw
this light shining through space and its reflection was so bright that I
began to question life.
Thursday
There is nothing more peaceful than solace. I pray to have my voice heard
through the life of other voices in that we are on the same page. We feel
the same. We think the same. We are different. We come from two walks
of life. We have the same passions. We live explicitly different lives. Our
ideas coming and going defining our purpose seldom forgotten but has
made its mark, made its impression from reality.
Friday
Today, I cried. I am not alone from feeling the tears on my pillow. The anger
of not being able to communicate I am trapped with emotions that
breathe. Not having things my way, I lie afraid of my own shadow wanting
to escape the darkness. I am alone. I have no one I can trust my feelings
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 9
with anymore. I am afraid to say anything in fear that no one really
understands or cares about me. Being alone is coveted from the insanity
of not having anyone at all. Wanting to escape from within, my tears will
fill the ocean eternally wept in sorrow.
Spring 2015: DIARY JOURNAL
Gang Violence Spring 2015
We wear the masks of blue violets
Hidden behind two colors
That mark the streets
Blind the alleys
That scar their dreams
With broken speech
No one understands
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
We live together
We die together
The spirit must live
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We wear the masks of broken roses
Walking stones into ashes
Scattered dust in the wind
Skeleton bones led to carry on
Vulnerable and weak masks
Die
Without reason
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
We live together
We die together
And we must forgive
Red and blue fight
Without the waking pain
Confused and unforgiven
No one is to blame
A blank stare
Staring back at us
As if we care
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Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
I fell down
But I got up
We wear the masks of blue violets
Hidden behind two colors
That mark the streets
Blind the alleys
That scar their dreams
With broken speech
No one understands
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
We live together
We die together
The spirit must live
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 12
We wear the masks of broken roses
Walking stones into ashes
Scattered dust in the wind
Skeleton bones led to carry on
Vulnerable and weak masks
Die
Without reason
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
We live together
We die together
And we must forgive
Red and blue fight
Without the waking pain
Confused and unforgiven
No one is to blame
A blank stare
Staring back at us
As if we care
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 13
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
I fell down
But I got up
Monday
Why does it have to be this way? Why do we choose to live this way? Why
is life as it is? Why can't things change? Why do we doubt life? Why do we
fight the way we do? Why can't we be happy? Why do we argue? Why?
Why? Why? Is it because, few words without meaning is an informality to
reason. Our fears have become the encouragement to find reasons for its
own reason.
Tuesday
Somehow I noticed you changed. I think I am. I know. I know the difference
when you are not happy. I know the difference when your skin changes
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color. I know when your eyes are dark. I know when you have bags under
your eyes. You are not sleeping. You are grouchy. You say things you don't
mean. You roll your eyes at me as though you are ignoring me. You get
angry. Give me a break and take a leak. I am giving you the time you need
to readjust your life to being the way things were because you have
changed.
Wednesday
I am insubordinate to feeling you. Everything I do is a consequence for
action while I ask for permission to be who I am. Am I not o.k. for not doing
anything wrong? O.K. I am willing to change. NO wait! I am mistaken for
being stupid for not being who I used to be. What have I become? I no
longer like who I am because of how I want you to want me as much as I
want you. I am miserable without you and I do not feel accepted by my
one true love of myself. I want to hold on. I want to give up. I want to try.
I want to change, but I feel hopeless. I need you to say something, but even
you don't know what we want for us. I am trapped in the glass ceiling and
I cannot escape being confused. For the first time in my life, I fear being
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 15
alone.
Thursday
Time is on our side. There are no obligations. We hold these truths as
evidence to indecisions we made long ago. At the time, we were
decomposed from the lies we told about each other. As if we tried to be
better than what we wanted each other to know. My feelings were on the
bridge of no return. There is no way I could let a man be more than what I
hoped for as you saw me through. I am not good enough to be the woman
who needed to feel loved. I could not bring myself to your attention
without telling lies. I wanted to be more than the girl next door. There is
nothing inside emptiness except being alone without a friends hand to
hold.
Friday
I’m the failure who gave up before anything happened. Quick to quit. Just
not fit. I gave up for no reason. Afraid that I would actually mean
something to someone better than me. I am guilty of treason. I did not
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give up on life itself, I gave up on me trying to communicate things
through. I am afraid of feeling someone needs me, trust me, wants to
include me in their lives. I am afraid of getting hurt time after time and so
I play a game of who will hurt who the most. I get you all warmed up and
break it off. I win, but I am really failed in reconciling difference in getting
to know someone who really wanted to care for me.
Summer 2015 DIARY JOURNAL
A Child’s day begins with
Finding a Solution
Finding a Solution
They want to learn
And be great things
But we fail to understand their cries
Because we failed our children
From pursuing their dreams
We as their parents have deprived our child
From funding their education
With the tools they deserved
Scarcity, the madness
Startling, the sadness
And the test scores are low
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 17
Our students are dropping out
With no room for hope
Our government is insecure
But students’ passion to learn is high
They all want to earn the power
We must not hear their cries
In honesty we are not true to ourselves
In reality we aren’t being fair to our children
We are ignoring the root of our problems
Starts from the person within
The whisper before dawn
The silence of visible light
Singing God's hymn infinitely in time.
Their words are a reflection of mourning
Not knowing foreshadowing history
We share their agony
We share their pain
A mirror image of their journey.
Nothing is eternal
Only decades stand amongst our wound.
We stand, we bond, and we pledge words of hope
Every second, every minuet,
Every hour in their memory
Each moment underlies our journey
And it is your voice that carries
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 18
Vicariously towards freedom.
A mind is a terrible thing to waiste.
Monday
I learned to shut out what really means the most. The corners of my eyes
are blocked from seeing with a wooden beam. I have learned to shut out
the world the way the men shut out me. I fall every chance I get close to
making those delusion I have for men seem real. It is not real. When will I
learn to accept a man for who he is? Often I get caught up with my
expectations for what I need that I don’t always get what I want. The stars
don’t always adjust in the light. I am blinded by darkness in a deep dark
hole that I cannot leave. Without holding on to chance.
Tuesday
However I viewed the world was different. I was built on the view that this
time it would be different. It is when consequence made its mark, but I was
deceived. I could not tell the truth that I was the blame for my own
problems. I wore the mask of humility. I beat down on myself for not being
DIARY JOURNAL: LOVE ANELA BROWN 19
what other people wanted me to become. I am happy being me, I thought,
but without including others, I am nothing. I cannot share success alone. I
cannot achieve without others moral support to say, we did it. Life is lonely
without knowing. Alone my heart weeps to exist.
Wednesday
Thoughts are my imagination. To conceive thought is to make up reason
to what you are impartial to. I am the only measurement of my fate. Time
chases vitality to reason. One kind act deserves another. We live in a world
where everything embodies one another. There is a need for inclusion in a
surreal measurement of life. I wear the mask of conviction. Why do we hide
back our feelings in chains, when what we really feel inside is the need to
feel wanted.
Thursday
Quitting is not an option. I am going to look at my diary and find my
strengths. I have done a lot of good things with my life. I learn from my
mistakes. I am passionate about who I am. I could be a lot of great things.
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My ancestors before me have set a good map for me to follow. I can learn
from them and their struggle. I struggle the same in only different ways.
They had to be strong to survive love, loss and pain. I could be the same. I
must not give up. I must march this walk of death and live my life for the
love of who I am. I cannot reject my goals. I have found who I am and there
is no turning back.
Friday
Today is the day of inquiry. I have decided to be true to my feelings about
life. I am the portrayer of my dreams. I am the procurer of self-hope. I
speak with the conviction of hope. The meaning of my fate is my identity.
My thoughts invoke reason. I am an African American female who dares to
dream.
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