You have a vision or a dream you would like to bring to life, yet other people you have shared it with don’t understand. They are not yet capable of seeing the wonders that can be seen through your eyes. You are ahead of your time, Gemini. Throughout your life you have probably found that you noticed potential in things way before they became popular with the masses - you noticed young actors that would become stars, or new songs that would become hits, or new ways of doing things that would become trends. Your idea now has a great destiny. Don’t be stopped because others can’t see what you see.
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"You can be lonely even when you are loved by many people, since you are still not anybody’s one and only."Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl (via bookmania)
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“And all this for a nigga that was average doin average nigga shit. Like talkin out the side of his neck and thinkin with his dick. But I must admit he’s the one I wanted to commit. So either I wasn’t livin up to my full potential or I was just an average chick”—Dana Gilmore
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Accra, Ghana
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Jill Scott-Def Poetry
Nothing for Nothing
I had been turning tricks longer than I actually knew it.
Being whatever they wanted me to be whenever they wanted me to be it.
A freak, inside, outside kitchen counters, laundry mats, two at a time,
hotels, motels, and backseats of leased cars, vans and jeeps.
Made myself like it ’cause they liked it and I liked that they liked it
and so I continued being the perfect image of a wet dream.
Nasty, wild, exotic, erotic.
Freak was they wanted so freak was who I was.
And everybody was walking around talking about me.
Like teenage pregnancy wasn’t becoming synonymous with being black and woman.
Like America wasn’t suffocating our thoughts.
Like there was nothing to talk about what was doing or screwing.
And I thought the whole damn thing was ridiculous, which it was.
‘Cause I was content giving my men a little heaven
between their struggle to breathe and contemplation of suicide.
Wasn’t I good for the cause?
Closed mind, open legs, making niggas forget why they’re so damn angry.
Wasn’t I good?
Then the mood swung as well the tempo and I became an ideal.
They want her pretty and docile, caring and stupid
and there I was on your Mark, Seth, Joe and I was Suzy Homemaker on the hunt for love;
Cooking and cleaning, ironing and faithful and a freak cause that’s what they liked
and I liked being what they liked so what they liked was who I was.
A prostitute, selling my soul for emotional gain,
struggling not to be the third generation of lonely women in my family.
Struggling to gain but gaining nothing but confusion, frustration, illusion, ’cause there was no love,
just empty condom wrappers on the floors to be discarded like me.
A prize performer long before I actually knew it too,
’cause I was faking me out of the me I would become.
The me that I see now.
The me that holds onto herself with both hands and all feet.
The me who must have love and give it.
The me who brings more to the table than good looks and a wet hole.
The me that is confident, and intelligent and filled to the brim with respect for me.
And a freak ’cause that’s what I like and I like being what I like and what I like is all a part of what I am.
