Being Articulate is Over-Rated









Ill apologize ahead of time for my incoherence. Couldn't seem to really find the words today. Maybe I should carry around a thesaurus.

Had an interesting conversation today with a friend about existence and why we are here. While talking ourselves in circles the thing he kept coming back to was Identity and figuring out who you are. Which got me thinking, who Am I? Why do I care if I am able to place an label on my identity. There are far too many labels already: Black, white, gay, straight etc... All of this identity talk made me realize that while I am not able to classify myself and I don't really care. I like who I am regardless of what people might deem me to be. I think everybody could really use some time away in a place that you are entirely unfamiliar with to find yourself on your own terms without the opinions of others.

As I am often random I started thinking about other things that define us as a generation. If every generation has there "thing"....what is ours? Do we need a thing? Are we the generation that steps away from having "something" to define us. There I go again, overly medicated and overanalyzing everything. Instead Ill offer this, it's a poem by Nikki Giovanni and it sums up what I'd like to say in a far more poetic way without the medicated, light-headed garble.

    Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day- By Nikki Giovanni

    Don't look now

    I'm fading away

    Into the gray of my mornings

    Or the blues of every night

    Is it that my nails

      keep breaking

    Or maybe the corn

      on my second little piggy

    Things keep popping out

      on my face

        or

      of my life

    It seems no matter how

    I try I become more difficult

      to hold

    I am not an easy woman

      to want

    They have asked

      the psychiatrists . . . psychologists . . . politicians and social workers

    What this decade will be

      known for

    There is no doubt . . . it is

      loneliness

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