The Jones'...

It is the color of light,
The shape of sound high in the evergreens.
It lies suspended in hills,
A blue line in a red sky.

I am looking at sound.

I am hearing the brightness
Of high bluffs and almond trees
I am tasting the wilderness
of lakes, rivers, and streams
Caught in an angle of song.

I am remembering water
That glows in the dawn
The motion tumbled in earth
Life hidden in mounds.

I am dancing a bright beam of light..

I am remembering love.

-Nia Long as Nina Moseley. Love Jones

I tell ya, this takes me there everytime. When I was in my sophomore year of college our boot-legged ass apartment didn't have cable jacks in the bedrooms. So, of course, we popped the same 5 VHS tapes in just to have something playing in the background. I could watch Love Jones EVERYNIGHT w/o pause. It's the greatest. Two people w/ an undeniable connection that fall into the normal routine. You know, kick it/roll with it..let down your guard just enough to enjoy yourself, but keep it up just enough to ward off any "hurt". Catch feelings, on your own accord though..never letting the other know. Not, of course, until it's too late. Add your mix of random bullshit/f'ups in. Then you either end up like them saying, "I don't care what it takes...it's about you and me" or "damn, I wonder..." Classic shit!!! The Jones - likely to result in confusion, disarray, and possible heartache. But so damn satiating that you'll try it again, and again, and a-damn-gin. Where's my Jones?!?! (sigh)

Now that I've brushed that off, I can get over it and get my swagger back. I'm getting pretty comfortable in this space. I damn near feel at home. S[dot] threw me a little blogger welcome party so I'm meeting new people. Thanks s.R!....still getting used to this alias thing.

I have this new guy I'm dating...we'll call him M.J. Not b/c he's "that dude" like Jordan...more like Micheal Jackson. I know what you're thinking...wacko jacko. Molester maybe? Woman-ish? No...just skinny ass hell. Background: met him one night a few of my girls and I stepped out after a sorority function downtown(Chicago). We went by this free spot, Pharris was DJ'n so the music was hot but it was dead. No sense in missing out on sleep so we were headed out. Bump into MJ and his boy, the guy who promotes the party. So they invited(damn near forced) us back in for a few drinks. They were actually really cool and they kept 'em coming, so we'll entertain. Why not? Anyway M.J.'s pretty tall probably 6'3" or so and very personable. Cool. No Letting Go comes on...my damn JAM! I know it's old b/ I fuckin' love it. Anyways, so I just naturally saunter off into this groove and he follows suit. I look over and see this 2 stilts underneath his jeans a bobbin' and a swayin'. Now, I'm trying to keep my face together as it naturally cocks to the side in disbelief. "Is this nigga really THAT damn skinny.." I mean, I'm waiting on some dancers and drummers to pop out b/c I felt like I'd been transposed into a Shaka Zulu movie. I know I may sound ridiculous, but if you'd refer to 41 from my 100 list you'll see that I don't do skinny dudes. Anyways's that was a tangent.

Basically, long story short. We hung out Sunday. It was a cool, neutral time b/c he invited friends over. Taboo, drinking, conversation. He called me yesterday one to give the option for dinner(of which, I didn't take up) and two to tell my goodnight(on my vmail). Now it may look as if I'm dissing ole' boy. It's really not like that. He's cool. However, I'm trying to dance a bright beam of light...I'm not really pressed for coolness. As Reddy proclaimed, my tolerance for BS is getting lower by the second. Quite frankly, I'd rather floss my teeth than entertain someone b/c I'm bored. Maybe I'm pigeon-holding myself into unhappiness? Maybe I'm not really letting anyone in. I don't know, you tell me. I'm just trying to live. Anyways, MJ doesn't really fits into this category. Like I said, he's cool..I don't mind hanging out w/ him. Though I wish someone would drop him a line letting him know that he may as well kill the lets-hang-eryday-thing. I'm gonna shoot that down erytime.

I'm looking to feel butterflies plain and simple. Intrigue me dammit! You know the kind where when you first meet that person your like "Damn, I need to know him/her". Maybe I'm just a dreamer, but I don't think I'm asking for too much. Am I?