Dia Cinco~ Something I Hope To Do In My Life

I want to do a lot of things.

I’ve wanted to publish my writings. I’ve wanted to show the world my ideas. I’m constantly writing and nothing is being shared yet. I anticipate that one day [soon] an opportunity will meet with my burgeoning ambition and BOOM…I’ll be on the path to authorship.

I’ve wanted to be a mom…a wife.
I’ve wanted to travel…exotic islands, culturally-rich countries…
I’ve wanted to conquer my paralyzing stage fright…

Can you see me? Like…singing my ASS off on stage and folks loving it?
Speaking my poetry and ripples of awe and emotion feeding my delivery?

I’ve wanted to get serious about my love of photography and graphics.

I hope to do a lot in my life…This little ole blog can’t hold my hopes. I could go on forever talking on my hopes.

Stairs, Dolls & Going Home: A Dream

I won’t make a habit of telling you guys my dreams…sure, they’re entertaining and what not. I just don’t want you all thinking I’m several sammiches short a very odd-shaped basket.

The only reason I’m really sharing this dream, on this day of 10-10-10…is because of the ending.

The beginning is garbled. As per my luck in my dreams, the escalators, stairs and such are always ill-formed to travel on. Going down when I want up…or vice versa is always a recipe for disaster. At one point in my dream, I was on a set of stairs outside my old elementary school…and they were so huge and steep, that I couldn’t get down them to the sidewalk.

Anyway…I find myself back at the apartment that belonged to my best friends from the PJ’s. Apt. #2B is where a LOT of good times rolled. (I lost my virginity there, lol) Anyway…I’m there and so are the siblings I kicked it with. S & Q…along with my sister’s godsisters, were there. I have recurring dreams (and Joy will understand me) where I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to pick things up, put them in a bag and leave…yet, I can never remember everything, find everything…or things keep falling out. I had all of these clothes that clearly were mine that needed to go across the hall to my grandmother’s house. (She died this past March…I lived with her for a number of years). This is where it becomes bits and pieces…

S, flirting with one of the godsisters (ticked me off)…
The eldest godsister had me thinking she had a real puppy…but it was a stuffed one…
There were talking toys that went back and forth between being real and not…
I decided to leave because there was this one toy I needed to get to my grandmother’s house…


My grandmother kept a doll on her sofa for years, that us girls always wanted to play with (esp. my younger sister). She was a Black doll made of nylon or some synthetic material. She had cabbage patch features, but she wasn’t a cabbage patch doll. She was better. She had long black yarn ponytails and a cream colored dress. She once wore socks, but those disappeared. When she died…my sister wanted it and I thought that it should go home with her. She now has the doll with her.


…I get to my grandmother’s door. I look for my keys (which look a lot like mine do now). I fiddle with them, kind of knowing that I don’t have the key to her door. I “blink” (if you’ve read the last dream, it’s when I make things happen for me in my dream)…and I see the VERY distinct PJ’s key. (There’s NOTHING like a PJ’s key…it was exclusive to the PJ’s in Mt. Vernon, NY. It was expensive to cut…and if you lost it, even more expensive to replace). I get into the door. The doll I had with me comes to life as soon as we hit the door. This “doll” becomes a beautiful little 4 or 5 year old girl. Four parted pony tails, long and silky. Round face, the complexion of mine. {{insert tears}} I put down the bag of clothes and things I gathered from the other apartment, and take her by the hand. I lead her to the back…the floors are shiny and reflective…I can see very little furniture. NOTHING like it was when my grandmother actually lived there. I get to my grandmother’s room and she’s lying there. Behind her on the bed is the doll that once sat on her sofa…but it’s like IT grew up. It’s full-sized, mature in appearance, but sleeping. My grandmother awakes and asks me who the little girl is. I tell her I found her and she needs a place to stay. I tell the little girl to call her grandma…and I tell the little girl that she can either call me, “Kali” or “Mommy”. She agreed. I woke up.

~Normally, in my dreams…when I dream of people who have passed on…they are “visiting”. So, this one has me a little stumped. I normally don’t dream of dead people once they’ve gone on. I wasn’t thinking of her. I wasn’t eating anything peculiar before my nap. The TV was on low…so no environmental noise.  I tell ya…this is weird as hell~

What do you guys think?

A Floating Ship, Obama and the HS Crew: A Dream

My boy ThugRockStar shared his dream the other day and it had me in STITCHES!! My side is still healing from laughing at “Unc” the killer. PLEASE read that…a laugh a day, keeps the wrinkles away.

I decided to share my dream. It woke me up terrified. There wasn’t a drop of laughter in it for ME, but perhaps you guys might laugh at the insanity which is Kween’s Obscene Dreams. LOL

What I remember first…is that I was at my Auntie’s getting ready for some family gathering. Eventually I got left behind, to which I spent an inordinate amount of time in my dream trying to catch up. No such luck. All I ended up doing was living in a house with a bunch of people who WEREN’T family, but kept acting like I was. I didn’t know their asses, so I “blinked” myself out of that one. (Yes, if my dream isn’t going my way…I blink myself into another dream. lol)

SO, I end up in the lobby of some hotel…convening with some High School alumni. A bunch of folks I couldn’t stand back then sprinkled with my “crew” that I hung with. We entered on the Reunion “ship”. Something like a cruise liner…but floating and more metallic like. We’re all chilling when one of the guys, let’s call him “Jack” as in ASS…says something stupid. We laugh it off and say, oh please and whatever. Dude gets angry. All of a sudden, we’re running. This guy has taken an all out campaign on our candy asses. We’re scattering like roaches…but this dude (who literally is about 5’7″) has everyone shaken.

I run into a bathroom and a few girls have my back…throwing themselves in front of him trying to reason with him, because apparently it’s the shit “I” said that tipped him off…so, they’re begging him to stop. He takes my BFF of the time, turns her upside down and shakes the blood out of her. All you could see was her body convulsing with her legs in the air…shit, I began looking for a way out. I told them to hold him off a little longer. I got into a bathroom stall, climbed on the toilet and started digging through the ceiling. 

(sidebar: I have recurring dreams where I’m always trying to climb up, remove a ceiling tile and pull myself up into it…to hide, get away or go to a secret place)

I finally dig a hole, shimmy up and through it…when the Secret Service come looking for me. I am watching them in plain sight now, but they can’t see me. They start emptying the bathroom’s carnage that Jack left. All of a sudden they start pointing upward and saying to check where I am. So, I morph into a small red die (yes, just one…not a set) and as I sit there watching them, they find two bags of what is supposed to be dirt. All of a sudden, not only am I the “die”…but, I’m also a damn agent…so, I’m cutting open one of the bags and we’re dumping them onto a long table. One of the agents, who clearly is on Jack’s side suggest they bring out the hose and see what happens to the dirt. I get really nervous. They spray down the dirt and the dirt begins to give way to a the shape of a little boy’s body. He wakes up and I say to myself, “Oh shit…they found the kid we hid in the dirt when Jack was killing everyone”. 


…aaand ACTION!!

Now, one of our friends is being interrogated. The other agents and me (the agent) are questioning her as to my (the die’s) whereabouts. She’s crying and looking straight at me…they can tell she’s lying but she refuses to tell them where I am. They apprehend her and then while back in the lobby, Obama comes in dressed quite casually…and announces that they’re about to launch a full investigation into some things and that change is coming.

My friend is eventually released…I don’t quite shake my die shape. I just wake up staring at the ceiling fan wondering just how late DID I eat dinner? O_O

Yea…go ahead and say it…I’m weird. lol

Team Kween

When January 1st, 2010 rolled in on tears and pain…I promised myself that not only would this year be different, but that the rest of my LIFE would be different.
The way I’ve been viewing life, by limitations and expectations is not something I want to do anymore. I’ve been limited by my disability (yes, I have one…I have Severe Narcolepsy), which up until now has been something only a select few know of me.  I’m not one to put my business out there, but this is a part of who I am…and I’m not ashamed. The ignorance that is abound isn’t anything I have control over…but c’est la vie.
I was in a relationship for 2yrs with someone I’d never laid eyes on…and I loved him like he woke up next to me every day…but, because of my limitations (medically and financially) I wasn’t able to visit him. I’d hoped that HE would do that, in understanding my situation…but, I see now so much that I didn’t see before…or maybe what I didn’t want to admit. I now know more than I ever wanted to know about how to measure intentions against actions. I now am left to question if “I love you” was just something he said to me while trying to convince himself in the process. Don’t get me wrong, with all my feelings of frustration, abandonment, neglect and residual anger…I don’t wish him ill. I pray that he finds what he was looking for…because clearly, it wasn’t me. I’m okay with that, too. I just wish he hadn’t taken me for a ride while trying to figure out what he wanted.
I also had connections and friendships with people who were unhealthy in their origin and their purpose. I leaned on a few people through my struggles with the “distant long distance relationship” and I realize that I misplaced a lot of feelings onto them. Making others responsible for making me feel validated, when my ex wasn’t doing that. I’ve learned that relationships are SUPPOSED to be intimate and fulfilling. When you need supplements from other sources, you NEED to check why you’re still in a dysfunctional situation, instead of trying to get others to pinch hit for the person who isn’t hitting on a damn thing. I believe that a friendship or two has fallen victim to my inability to free myself from an agonizing position…not to mention, not understanding when those people (with their own lives and issues) weren’t around when I needed. I still love them, but I also realize that loving someone means allowing them to move on and be happy separate from any pressures that you may be imposing.
I’m also learning to follow my dream of writing and publishing my own book. I’ve been writing for YEARS and I’ve got TONS of ideas and story lines churning about. At this point though…having turned 37, something has to give. I have been writing this novel (and now it’s sequel) for over 3yrs. I’ve been clinging to it like a protective mother…not wanting to let it be embraced by others. Now, it’s time. It’s bittersweet though…there are some folks, who throughout my “penning period” have championed my cause…and I wish they were here to go through this excitement with me. I hope that though things may be strained between us…”they” will be proud of me anyway.
What I learned most…the biggest lesson of all, is that I have GOT to be my own team. I’ve got to do the research, the reading, the legwork, the motivation, the support system…to get this thing rolling. There are my loved ones, who say, “Oh, I’m soo proud of you. I’m happy for you.”…and I know they mean it with the reverberations of the words from their souls. Yet, I also know…that until it’s materialized…for them it’s just a thought trying to be a reality. Very few will offer to read, or donate to my cause…because, well…life happens. Everyone has their own thing going. They can’t afford to hip hip hooray for an “idea”…they’ve been waiting for me to burst forward for years. So no blame…but, I know that it’s a solo ride. One for Team Kween!!

The Kween’s Kouch: ~Dreams Manifested~

*done on 10-29-08*

Today I did a REAL show. The first was simply a test…this was me with both feet hitting the floor. No real co-host to speak of (kinda scary). Been so used to having someone in the front seat with me…it was weird driving alone. I did pick up a few passengers though…

Howelegant stepped into the Kweendom taking a seat next to me for a bit. Mahogany Dymond and Youngcity da Boss also propped their feet up. Butterfly Effect, Fit for a King, Ebony Eyes Live (dot com), Funky Black Chick, and Curvy Queen took their seats in the chat. The show’s topic, “Dreams Manifest” was simply a question put to all the listeners. WHAT if anything did you want to be when you grew up? Do you remember what your passion was that you just couldn’t shake? How close are you to your childish dreams and desires? One of the bigger questions was if your dreams were even your own? I shared with the constituents of the Kweendom (the chat room) that I once told my mother at age 7 of wanting to be a clown. HEY! Blame it on my unending love for Mickey D’s. Ronald’s job seemed like a cool hook up! *drooling @ thought of a Big Mac*

Anyway…check out the show and see for yourself!