Ergane in Retrograde

"some people wear their smile
like a disguise
those people who smile a lot
watch the eyes
i know it 'cuz i'm like that a lot
you think everything's okay
and it is...
'til it's not."

- Ani DiFranco, "Outta Me, Onto You" Dilate

I think I confuse people all the time in this regard. I can be a smiley sonishdaughter of a buscuit-eater. I smile easy and long. I communicate a lot through my smile. Sometimes, I communicate permissions I do not intend. Because it is not ok, and I stop smiling, people become terrified.

I swear, there are some days when, no matter what, you are just going to be big and B/black and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it and, you know what? That's ok.

I had a very spiritual Sunday although I didn't make the Q-POC meeting. I had a conversation with myself about that and decided it is because I don't feel feel "in" right now... and that might actually be ok. My lessons are going to be different. Besides, I have done enough things this weekend -- this weekend in the month I am supposed to observe.

So, I have released people from friendships and plan for a few more... just to be real and authentic in my other journal on livejournal where I tend to like to make my unfiltered mish-mash of posts... one of the lessons I learned from my Return was how to end things peacefully and with grace and met with a full heart and no bitterness.

"i'm a pixie
i'm a paperdoll
i'm a cartoon
i'm a chipper cheerful free for all
and i light up a room
i'm the color me happy girl
miss live and let live
and when they're out for blood
i always give"

- "Pixie" Ani DiFranco, Little Plastic Castles

Except, I am not that girl anymore, not quite. Somehow, I have managed to keep the paperdoll, the cartoon, but lose the "chipper cheerful free-for-all" and disarm people with the luxury I have in being able to be myself. The privilege of it -- something no one can take from me and no one should WANT from me. (Not that decentcy matters, really.) I look to bring light to darkness now... bless my gothish heart. And I am not giving blood anymore. (not that those fuckers really want it anyway)

I played nice, though. Why? Because I knew I had it in me to do so. It is nice when you can rely on yourself to do things without delivering a curse-out where, in the past, one should have occurred. However, I do find, as I get older, white people, especially gay white men, are just scared of me.

Which is just as well.

Some of them NEED to be scared of me.

Some PEOPLE need to be scared of me.

... I should stop trying to recreate myself in miniature.

I'll wise up one day, I figure.

Heart,

Quentin Ergane