Photo: Slig77 DeviantArt.com My log for the month of February: Writing/Residency/Fellowship Submissions: 0 Writing/Residency/Fellowship Acceptances: 0 Writing/Residency/Fellowship Rejections: 0 Secret Shame: I hate my job. Books: Graceland — Chris Abani Caucasia -- Danzy Senna
Author: darlene anita scott
...yeah, the one you met the other day in the grocery store. She made you wanna say something to her. You did. And now you can’t remember her name. But that wasn’t really the important part of the meeting anyway.
I'm an excellent tryer and dedicated if not so-so runner. I’m probably too old to still play on the monkey bars. But I do. Maybe too young to groove to Sam Cooke. But I listen to him. I'm powered by plants, a pacemaker, and anything creative.
I like making collages, making up my mind and sticking to it, and making up recipes; almost anything by James Baldwin; almost anything with black beans in it; and probably more than is healthy for the average human: I like alone time and homemade popcorn—not necessarily together.
I daydream constantly. I write poetry and prose. Sometimes I teach it to people. Sometimes I read or recite it to people. And even less often I publish it.
I could be more tolerant of overpriced grapes, people who drive with parking lights on, and deafening car stereos.
I like to laugh but don’t do it as often as I should. Some people think I'm shy. Some think I'm a mute. I'm happy to be here and try to make the most of it.
Monthly Meter (All new categories for the New Year)
Photo: Slig77 DeviantArt.com My log for the month of January: Writing/Residency/Fellowship Submissions: 2 Writing/Residency/Fellowship Acceptances: 0 Writing/Residency/Fellowship Rejections: 1 Secret Shame: Get That Clear - Brick and Lace Smart Ones steamers Books: Becoming Abigal -- Chris Abani
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Things and Stuff…
Because I know you've been wondering.... the good stuff: Afro Blue (Spelman Jazz Ensemble version); Run Come (jah mason and jah cure); Turkey Hill brand cookies and cream ice cream; fresh pineapple, mini marshmallows, and plain yogurt (yes together); Graceland by Chris Abani; successfully scraping off last year's parking decal; replacing said decal before i [...]
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Talking to smell your own breath…
I was walking into this store. And I was wearing some new earrings and my royal blue sneakers, the latter of which alway turn my grey skies, well, blue. But the very friendly (props to you ma'am because this does not happen much in retail) cashier joked that I "looked angry about spending my money." I wasn't angry [...]
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Daydream Sequence #4
This morning I was lynched. Me and two or three other black men ( I was a man this morning) are hung from rafters in a barn-like building by several white men for a non-descript crime. Terror envelopes me enough to want to wake up but curiosity keeps me in this kinda-wake-closer-to-sleep state. I [...]
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Monthly Meter
Photo: Slig77 DeviantArt.com My log for the month of December: Writing/Residency/Fellowship Submissions: 7 Writing/Residency/Fellowship Acceptances: 0 Writing/Residency/Fellowship Rejections: 2 WTF moments: lost count Books: 0
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Happy Soon-to-Be New Year
12:30-something on the last Sunday of the year, my clothes lay across the bed like business and I’m in the sunroom wearing a towel (my stomach growling beneath it, What about me)? Should I…what if I…maybe I…will I…why won’t you…but I have their hands up begging to be answered first like I have answers [...]
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Talking ‘Bout a Revolution
My stomach has been trying to incite a riot all afternoon and evening. All over a Big Mac. I've never claimed a delicate constitution but in recent years have become both adept at and dedicated to at least considering what goes in my body. Sometimes, though, these things are better left in locked diaries, feigned as drunken mishaps, or [...]
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For everything else, there’s Walgreen’s.
I like the Walgreen’s commercials about a land called Perfect. Since there is no such place as Perfect, they say, there’s Walgreen’s.These days I’m content with that premise. So much of the time we look for Perfect. In people, in places, in really nice Coach bags. Really nice ones. Really, really nice ones. [...]
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maybe later.
Sometimes I just don’t feel like talking. Like lately. And I feel kind of bad about it because it makes the people around me feel bad about it. They think it means something’s wrong. And sometimes they’re right but more than half of the time they’re not. Quite. I just don’t have anything to say. [...]
darlene anita scott 