There is a mental state
I strive to achieve a homeostatic state a humming a lull like those alpha wave tapes they sold in the 60's
I need to hear that in my head all day. Instead of the clanging of my thoughts and the clashing of my
wants versus what I should do need to do and the sad, bright violins from "Sunshine" so melancholy
so consistent that remind me how it is not to have anyone understand
I had a moment this morning while I was getting ready for work that I felt I should blog. I don't believe I have any recollection of this man on paper in my files, but I'll go ahead and put it down now. I remember getting ready to graduate from college and I got a phone call in my dorm room. It was Bomani. This guy who I used to see on campus just walking around, studying hard; he'd support all the black org. events on campus. I even think he was next in line for BSO president. I didn't even know he had my number. But I thought I'd be nice to him anyway... I didn't have reason not to be.
Bomani: Hey Victoria. I called you to say congratulations on graduating. It's a huge accomplishment!
Me: Gee, Bomani, that's really sweet! Thank you very much. You didn't have to call!
Bomani: Yes I did. You know... we pass through each others lives on this world, and we don't take time to notice each other. We take our lives for granted. I just didn't want to let that opportunity pass me to tell you that I've noticed you and I'm proud of you. (cheerfully) Keep doing what you do!
Me:.... Gosh... thank you Bomani... I.... really appreciate that.
Bomani: Okay... well, gotta run. Hope to see you soon! Bye!
Me: Okay! Take care!
His saying that to me affected me so deeply that I went out of my way to participate in his life. Just because he made me aware that we should. I'd come to the events he had on campus as BSO pres. I'd call him every so often. And everytime I'd see him in the street or in the hallway, I'd greet him with a wonderful hug. Bomani died of cancer in February of 1997. A year after I graduated. He knew. But I didn't. And even now, choking back tears, I'm honored that he reached out to me. Because he didn't have to. So, I remember him today and remember that not for fear of death should we take part in people's lives, but in recognition of the beauty that they may bring to us that we may be forsaking ourselves of by keeping to ourselves.
I hung out with my Max last night. We drank Pina Coladas and hung out at BBQs just laughing and talking and watching a near Mike Tyson style fight happen right out side between two big people having a lover's quarrel. It was entertaining. I can't take pity, because either one of them had the opportunity to walk away when they wanted. But they WANTED us to have front row to a Jerry Springer show in the making. So we indulged them complete with "OOOOHhhhhs" and "DAYUMMMMS" and "AAAAHHHHs" when the punches flew. All that was missing was the chanting... JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!... which I tried to start but it wasn't happening. Then my baby came and scooped us up and took us home. He's magnificent.
Today is quiet. Keith opened my eyes to this person's photoblog: BlueJake. He's ill. His stuff makes you wanna go out and take pictures. This guy is ill, as well: Satan's Laundromat
I also started my photo album of all my past exploits in the land of AKA (and APhiA) here. Funny to see where I've gone since. *sigh* I won't lament on the good times LMAO!!!
