Set It Off

Talking to my fam a lot tonight, and coming to understand how destined I am to be me. Who I am right now, with all of my promises and limitations.

I adore my dad, who is incidentally like the dudes I've dated for most of my life even though I haven't known him except for the last year or so. But I know he did date my mom, who incidentally adored him beyond reason, had his child even. And while braiding my hair before school every morning, she probably passed on to me the ideals I hold sacred for men.

Honor and Gangsterism and Pride. And Impenetrability. If that's even a word.

Also though. I hate my dad's girlfriends. Because they are crazy, usually. Exactly like me and my moms. Too similar to even fathom, these women. Like I need more of their kind in my life.

I was born surrounded by them, thanks. No need to adopt more.

But then again it makes sense that my dad who was sprung on my crazy moms who birthed crazy me would now love women who remind me of myself. Who remind me of my moms.

My point being: how could I have ever been anyone else? All the seeds for me were so thoroughly sprinkled about.

Born to these two, as awesome and delirious as they may have been. May still be. I couldn't have been anyone but who I am. I can see them both so clearly in the final product.

These things work for and against me. All of the time.


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My moms says: "The only way to deal with bad press is to outlive it."

And what a savage motto to go by. This basic assumption that there will even BE press, in the first place.

But for some women there always is. And that's not necessarily a curse.

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Culture break. Ha.



Another way to deal with bad press is to make a catchy, kind-hearted and fierce little diss song with your very best homegirls. Word.

I gotta big day tomorrow. So goodnight.