Tuesday, June 23, 2009

... 18 Years Young (Part V)

"So where we going?" Lydia was surprisingly comfortable around Daryl. Her comfort had even thrown her for a bit of a loop. But once you throw up all over a mans tires for a while, you tend to have no veil.

"Now if I told you, wouldn't that ruin the surprise?" She had to admit, he was smooth. But she was used to his type; Lydia had tricks up her sleeve that no one could guess by looking at her. She was better at playing those sort of head games than anyone. When she would sat back and think, she figured it was a waste that such a female like herself wouldn't live longer to share her knowledge with the world. With Daryl though, she figured she'd just be herself; it was seemingly easier to cut his game with honesty than to try to melt it with her own. Giving him the once over, Lydia noted his not-too-baggy jeans and crisp black polo with the teal horse that went with his black, teal, white and yellow dunks. She giggled to herself a bit that sort of matched. "What's funny?"
"Nothing, it's just that we match."
"Yeah, I peeped that when I saw you. Great minds..."
"Well at least one of us have one. Okay lets see, sneakers jeans and a polo...Am I over-dressed?"
"Nah, now that I see what you have on, I think I'm under-dressed. But it's cool, I figured I wouldn't be able to compete with your beauty." Was that genuine? Or was he just trying to game her again. She would soon find out. They pulled up to a well-known seafood restaurant that was known for it's prestige and it's serious attitude towards reservations. Lydia had never been, and in all honesty she wasn't the ritzy-restaurant type. Though her outfit spoke on the contrary. She just sat in slight awe at the luxury of what the night would soon become. She was impressed when they were seated immediately following Daryl giving the waiter his name. Lydia never knew that Daryl was short for Darylic Esseck. She thought it was a cool name, but why would someones parents name their child what could be sound-wise equivalent to a word synonyms with outcast? Once seated, they both ordered water and settled, sparked conversation.
"So Darylic huh? I never knew. Where'd that name come from?"
He smiled, knowing that the looming question was bound to be asked. "Both of my parents were orphans. They actually met each other in the foster system. Once they made it out and made something of themselves, they got married and had me. My mother said she named me Darylic as a reminder of where she was and where she is." There was no hiding the confusion on Lydia's face. "Like, they're not ashamed of where they came from because they came so far. So instead of naming me something that would ultimately be completely null and void to where they came from, they saw me as a representation of all that they've succeeded. I represented the fact that two family-less kids grew up to be a doctor and an entrepreneur. I am the result of abandonment. I represent derelicts." She had to give it to the kid. He was more than she figured he would be, and that wasn't simply taking him for face-value. Moreover, it was like taking him for what his reputation preceeded him to be. But there was more than met the eye with him. She liked the fact that he was seemingly more than surface.
"Deep stuff my brother. I would've never guessed."
"Well, that's not something you could guess. But I figure you assumed that I wasn't like I am. But I'm human, I have layers. Ya know?" She knew, trust if there was anyone of the surface of this earth who understood the power of understanding someone, it was Lydia.
"Well, I'm happy that I've taken the opportunity to get to know you." She smiled, genuinely.
"Me too. That night, in the car, something you said stuck with me." Lydia blushed slightly at the memories from that night. How she'd revealed her deepest secret to her entire graduating class, and then vomited her life away on the most popular boy in school's tires. He noticed and gently brushed her cheek with his fingers. "Nah, not that part. I remember you saying something along the lines of," he imitated her voice, "All you care about is you and yo rep." Lydia couldn't help but laugh. She didn't remember what she said verbatim, but she had an inkling that she went in on the poor boy. " I actually called and texted some of the girls I've messed with and some of my homeboys to get perspective. I wanted to see what they saw me as. And I got no real responses. I mean, I got a lot of 'you da'man' and 'you know you my favorites', but the stuff they said held no candle to your drunken tirade. I couldn't figure out why I had turned out like this, but I'm glad you agreed to let me take you out. And I am honored to be in the presence of such a real individual." He placed his hands on the table and over hers. Daryl was submitting himself to Lydia and she was eating it up. She couldn't help but to. His words were so genuine and true, it was almost like he was naked in front of her. "I am really lucky." They both shared a smile. Lydia blushed hard this time and her eyes darted towards the floor. He used his index finger to lift her face so their eyes could meet. "So, tell me something that I don't know."
"Something like what?"
"Girl, I border-line bared my soul. You gotta give me something."
"Okay, okay. I'm seventeen, eighteen next month. I'm spanish, black and white. I have a older brother named Salias, no pops, and my mom. I love dogs, music, and the color green. I was about to get my license before I was diagnosed, but I figured there was no point. And I guess you know about the dying thing."
"Yeah, but why let it stop you?"
"What do you mean?" She knew exactly what he meant. It was the same stuff her mother said on a daily basis. But what was the point? Why become invested in a life that only has months left on it's meter. Daryl just lifted one eyebrow. He knew that she knew what he meant. She contemplated telling him everything that she just thought, but instead she opted for a simply "I don't know. It's conplicated"
"If you don't mind me asking..."
"It's a long name that I'd rather not memorize. But basically I was born with a defective heart. It's simply slowing down until it stops. The doctors estimated that in six months, it'll be at the end of it's rope in a sense, and it'll stop. That's basically it."
"Where you a normal kid?"
"Define normal..." She smiled. "Yeah, for the most part. Wasn't really active because of what they thought was asthma. So guess without alot of physical activity, it went undetected."
"So what's next?"
"Well, about a month in a half they'll put in a sort of pace maker. Then in about three months, I'll be basically stuck in the house on bed rest. In five months I'll be in the hospital, and on the six month...well...I guess I die." Once again, Lydia looked at the floor. She had never explained what'll happen to one of her peers before. It was both liberating a painful. Daryl held her hands tighter.
"Hey, I didn't mean to get all heavy. Damn curiosity ya know? You want to order?"
"Yeah sure." She looks up to the most sincere pair of eyes she had ever seen. She was now naked too. When she looked up, it was almost like she was a new person sitting in front of an even newer person. This was a level she had never been to before. They ordered their prospective meals and continued conversation. They laughed so hard, Lydia was actually scared they'd be kicked out the seemingly snooty establishment. After eating, the duo left to walk along the sidewalks of the bustling, night-time hangouts. The only times their hands were indepentant was when they were eating. Other than that, it would seem they were glued together.
"So what happens now? Lydia got serious.
"What do you mean? You wanna go home?" Daryl hadn't really caught on to the change in tone quite yet.
"No idiot, I mean what happens now with us? I don't think you wanna get mixed up with me."
"Mixed up with you?"
"I've pushed people away for a reason. You do realize that I have no future."
Daryl had had enough. "Ugghh. I can't take this anymore. Lyd, look up. Are there any clouds in the sky?" She shakes her head no. "Is it raining?" She repeats her previous action. "I didn't think so. So why do you insist on raining on our night. I knew about your situation before I asked you out. For you to use that as a crutch is fucking confusing to me. If I only had six months to live, I would live them to the fullest."
"Okay but you don't! You have the rest of your fucking life to grow and become an adult! I'm gonna die a fucking teenager!" Lydia was yelling and crying. Tonight was going downhill fast.
"I understand that Lyd, I do." He held her by her shoulders and looked at her red, puffy eyes. "But this pessimism aint you. Your right I can't put myself in your shoes, and my bad for speaking as if i could. But I just want you to realize that you are far too beautiful to try and live in the dark, alone. I'm just tryna be here with you and for you."

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

...18 Years Young (part IV)

All of the days seemed to blur. One day wasn't existentially different from the next. The rest of that day, as well as the next, blew by like it was itching to be a memory. It was now wednesday, which meant it was the middle of the week. Lydia hadn't spoken to Darryl, or anyone for that matter since the night of the party. The most she had really done was reply to the texts asking whether or not she had made it home safely. She had 2 unanswered messages from him. One simply saying good morning and the other concerning what was partially plagueing her mind at the moment beyond the obvious issue. She knew deep down inside that she really wanted to go out with him, but this wasn't A Walk to Remember, and she wasn't Mandy Moore. Lydia would rather not be anyones pity case. Moreover, she'd rather not tell anyone about her condition in hopes of retaining the only bit of normalcy she had left. That night of drunken stupor left her feeling, well, stupid. But she hoped that everyone there was too drunk to really grasp what she confessed. Understandibly, she saw her relationship to Darryl as deterimental to him, his emotions, and her heart. There was no way they could have any sort of future together, because she had no future. Her mother keeps telling her to live for the day, and she tries. But as previously stated, her optimism is waning. Just thinking about seizing the day made her want to cry. Seize the day for what? While choking back tears, her phone rang. The ringtone, a simple beep, let her know that it was just a text message. Once again it was Darryl:

You can keep avoiding me, but i aint goin no where. Just gimme a yes or a
no. If it's no, i'll leave u alone. But if its yes, i'll be there at 7 tonight.

Lydia didn't really know what to say. Should she attempt to live a normal life, to no longer hide in the confines of her disease and make her last days worth living. Or should she just count the days until she dies. Lydia stared at her phone for a minute or two. A faint smile registered on her face and she mustered up enough self worth to type an answer. "Ok sure. C U @ 7." She decided that, at least for tonight, she was going to live like she used to. Like a teenager. She was going to do her hair, put on a nice outfit and live. Live like she wanted to, live like she should be, live like she had a chance at living. That night, Lydia pressed her spanish wave into a straight wrap, wore one of her favorite outfits, put on eye make-up, lip gloss and smiled. He dress came just above her knees and was black with big bright paint strokes. Her teal cardigan was quarter-lengthed sleeved and her wedge heels were black patent-leather. To say she looked gorgeous was an understatement. That boy better not take her out for burgers, this was a "lets go somewhere vibrant" outfit and she was settling for no less. 7 o'clock came around and Lydia was putting the final touches on her make-up. When the doorbell rang, she was actually nervous. Not because it was her first date and not because it was with the Darryl, but because she didn't know how to act now that he knew that she was...incredibly flawed. Cynthia opened the door with a huge smile. Her baby was leaving the house and taking her advice. There was no point in her sulking in the house for the rest of her limited days. All day, she had been pondering whether or not to encourage her daughter to undergo the experimental treatment. With both of them on the fence, the house had been a bit dreary for the past couple of days. Just by opening the door for this handsome young man, Cynthia felt some of the tension mixing with the fresh air and floating away on the evening breeze.

"Come in, come in. Lyd, your dates here." Cynthia was grinning ear to ear. Almost making Darryl feel a bit uncomfortable. He felt her mother's eyes giving him the once-over while she closed the door behind him. He just hoped he met her expectations.
"Hello Ms....Ms...I'm sorry, I don't believe I know Lydia's last name."
"Oh that's fine honey, it's Ms. Perez. Nice to meet you, Daryl is it?"
"It is. I now understand where Lydia get's her sense of spanish beauty from."
Cynthia took the line like a man dying in the desert, straight thirsty. She blushed and placed her hand on her chest a bit. "Well thank you. Aren't you just a charmer. Hang on a sec while I go get her." She jogged up the steps only to be flored by what she saw. She hadn't seen her daughter all dolled up in months. She was happy that Lydia had taken a hammer to that glass ceiling, she just hoped there was no glass in her eyes. Not to mention she was going out with what seemed to be such a seemingly charming young man. And hopefully, for his sake, it wasn't just a ploy to get into her daughters pants. "Oh baby, you look gorgeous! I love to see you like this, all..."
"Okay ma," Lydia interrupted in the hopes of stopping her mother from tearing up and crying, thanks. I think I'm gonna go on my date now." They shared a connecting smile and Lydia headed down the stairs. What her date saw left him dumbfounded, she seemed to have that effect on the young sutor.
"My lord girl. You make beautiful jealous." Now while her mother was swooning, Lydia was unfazed. She saw D-Money use that line on too many females before. He noted her expression and switched to a more honest type of swag. "You look really really pretty Lydia, honest." This made her smile.
"Thanks D. And from now on, honesty is the best policy." She whispered in his ear, "So you can tuck your game book away or you can leave me home." Lydia smiled and looked at her mother who was a bit puzzled to say the least. "Ok ma, we're out. I'll let you know when I'm headed home."
"Oh girl, take your time." Cynthia said while escorting the teens to the door."And Daryl, if u hurt her, I will most definately kill u and make it sure no one finds the body." He didn't know what was more disturbing, what she just said or the fact that she was smiling while she said it.
"I promise I won't. Take care."
"Mmhmm, you too. For your sake." Cynthia shut the door as the two decended on the steps. She didn't want her daughter loosing cool points because her mother was on the verge of tears. She felt like it was Lydia's first date all over again. But on the contrary, all the kept thinking about what if it was her last.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

...i'm grown now!

ii don't have to answer to anyone...

i am a adult by law which means i have the right to do as i please.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

...put the pen to the pad, open up the window and let god in...

So0 how about we never tell her that ii wrote this... But here goes...

Titled: Sibling

I am a revolution
For Brianna’s sake
I am her fight
Simply because I can be
I am her fingers
On keyboard keys
Her blue ink on white pages
Of marble notebooks
And leather bound journals
I am her countless computer folders
Filled with what I’d like to call poetry
I am her voice
Standing in front of mics
And faces
And echoing along walls
Protruding through doorways
Squeezing between cracks in the glass
I am her imagery
And I am her vocabulary
Encompassing more than the public school system offers
Because she likes the challenge
I am her heart
Beating for shit like this
Rhythmically throbbing for moments like this one
Moments of pure expression
With no censors
No question of talent
No answer needed
I am her eye sight
And now though declining ability
My embodiment makes it 20-20
Able to see the mental gems land
On all the un-expecting necks
Creating the only jewelry she deems worth while
And fascinating
With the colors of Africa draped on my shoulders
Stones of ebony worn on my chest like merit badges
Neo-soul and jazz breaths make difference
Yet, humor makes same
I am her sister
And she is my hero
And she is beautiful
Like earth angel
Barefoot on the greenest and warmest earth
Simply walking on classics
Like Donny’s “Someday we’ll All Be Free”
Or his Amel’s “Make Me Whole”
Or when India said “oh god, give me the courage to live with an open heart”
Cause she gives me the courage to live
And let live
And be alive with all that I do
And be me when I am alive with all I do
And do what I choose
Never allowing anyone other than god to dictate my decisions
Ever knowing that I can do for myself better than anyone else
But lord knows she’s done for me more than she knows
And she’s made myself what you see before you
Shaping it by simply living
Her life has taught me so much about mine
And how I should live it
And there is no thank you equivalent
So I’ll save it
For when u really need it
Or for when I really need to say it
Cause the only promise in this life
Is the fact that it will end
But above all that I’m happy that I met you
Happy that I’ve grown with you
And will grow with you
And I’m happy that you are who you’ve become
Because it gives me a guideline to live by
Someone to look up to
And something to aspire to be
You are all that I am
And I will be all that you want
In a little sister.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

....Mic Check

I think i should be a author...

I got the talent... not to mention the vivid imagination and the fast fingers... I'm gonna buy a typewriter. I wanna be authentic. But can't u just imagine checking my swag??? It's raining and dark outside, mid-day, and I'm sitting in front of my type writer banging out the pages of a urban classic.

Nah, make that urbane, cuz i'm just not that urban. Or am I? 10th grade I started writing this random book about this girl who got attacked in a weird way (which will not be disclosed should I ever decide to actually publish it) and re-reading it now, it was a bit juvinile...So I started writing another one. AND IT'S DOPE!!! ((If I do say so myself.)) But, like my short stories I posted on her, I have so many ideas. And I love writing them down and expanding on them? So maybe i'll be a writer/author. I'll be a web-desiging author...and I'll design my own web page to sell my books on ;-) Wanna visit it?