forget me, not because I am forgettable,
but because the memory of me is too painful.
forget me, not because you can easily move on,
but because I haunt you.
forget my smile, my laugh, the taste of my lips.
erase from your mind my touch, my love.
forget me because to remember me is worse than death.
I love people
I love their smiles, their laughs
Their differences create bright lights and new flavors in life
People are exhausting
Every dive into a conversation is an exercise in decreasing stamina
Tolerance is not built
I tried for decades now
Continue reading “Hermit Evolution”
I do not know your names. Your history is lost to me. An entire generation of forced silence beget a generation of grieving ignorance that beget generations of familial orphans. We are lost to each other. You will never know my smile, I will never know your laugh. Did you enjoy mangos as I do? Were any of you allergic to seafood or is that something I just developed?
Perhaps I exaggerate. My frustrations are exacerbated by the unknown. I see in my mother’s face an aunt, an uncle, a grandfather that I will never know. I feel in her love a strength and resilience passed from mother to daughter since before the time of slaves or conquistadors. My father’s chuckle, or the chainsaw snoring are ingrained lullabies from ancient times. The love of food and cooking and family gatherings near the kitchen are buried in DNA blessed by God or evolved after millennia.
Continue reading “A Letter to The Ones Who Came Before”
It has been 3 months since the debut of Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey, and fans worldwide are continuously stuck in the debate of whether or not the newest addition to the video game franchise is true to the story that began in 2006. As a fan myself, I’m on the side of evolution which Ubisoft has taken in full force to recreate the series into a fulfledged role-playing game (RPG).
One of the first upsets to many fans with the announcement of Odyssey was the timeline, going back to 431 B.C.E. which is about 400 years before the creation of the Brotherhood of Assassins, as we found out in Assassin’s Creed: Origins. How can a storyline that takes place before the Creed still be considered an Assassin’s Creed story? The simplest argument, which myself and Sokrates would argue (we’re best friends now, so I can name drop him), is that the story is not about the historical figures we play for the majority of the game. We are the modern day Assassins playing a simulation to use history for a fight during the 21st century between the Brotherhood and the Order of the Templars. We are not the misthios, or mercenary, wielding a broken spear during the Peloponnesian War. We are, in Origins and Odyssey, Layla Hassan trying to figure out how to use the Pieces of Eden created by the Precursors, the advanced civilization the Assassins discovered who were supposedly responsible for creating and enslaving the human race. Before that, we are initiates into the Brotherhood as well as Desmond, and other members of the Assassins who use the simulations to try and gain information on the war against the Templars. Because at least for now, we cannot change the timeline (although I have plenty of theories on how Layla will be able to do so after Odyssey in future games).
Continue reading “Assassin’s Creed Odyssey: To Go Forward, We Must Go Back”
I want change. I need change. I am going to get it one way or another.
2017-2018 were hard years for me professionally. I was working with an association that had recently changed leadership. With the new CEO came culture changes that were hard to handle and deeply saddening. Harassment, racism, ageism, and a strong distrust of the staff are just the highlights of an organization that needed a fresh start, but instead was given nothing but rot. Content providers were terminated, or forced into quitting simply from the abuse of new bosses that had no managerial training. Not everyone suffered. Some people thrived with the changes, although I don’t think that is something they should be proud of considering what that shows about their character. About 20 people, myself included, have either resigned or were fired in a staff that was almost 30 strong when I first began working with the association in 2016.
Continue reading “What I Want in 2019”
There is nothing more impossible, even now in 2018, than asking to see myself on the television screen. As an asexual woman loving Afro-Caribbean Latinx woman, the chances of me seeing myself for a accumulation of those pieces in one person alone on a television series or in film is like asking for the sun, moon, and stars as well as a billion dollars. It’s totally possible! The probability of it is definitely there, but I shouldn’t hold my breath either. So I break those pieces down, and find comfort in characters that sort of resemble who I am. I look for Afro-Latinx, Black, or brown characters, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. I look for queer folks, regardless of racial/ethnic identity or gender identity. I find empowerment with any characters who could be genderqueer or androgynous because I can identify with them as well as female identified people. I cast a broad net and find a bit of myself with everyone because it’s the only way I’ll be able to see something of myself on screen. It’s been that way my whole life.
Continue reading “Where Am I? An Ongoing Conversation on Representation”
Imaginary friends are the OG original characters before fan fiction ever became a thing after the internet blew up. The following is a scene in my mind if I ever had the chance to introduce my two favorite imaginary friends together (this is definitely still a work in progress):
Wary eyes glared at each other from across the room. Ice blue locked on dark brown, both filled with judgement and more than a hint of dislike. It wasn’t about who came first, but about who did the most for their creator. Who held her when she cried as a child versus who destroyed her enemies now when the world became too much. Protectors, they both were, but friends. Did they know friendship outside what was designed in them? Love? Could they understand the dichotomy they represented in the mind of someone who once saw herself as righteous compared to the realist, the grey, the demon who wasn’t really a demon as much as a djinn with too much fire, too much power, and not enough morality to care what she did with it. Both pairs of eyes rolled. She was thinking too much again, they said without words. They didn’t need words. Just smug smirks of understanding. Of acknowledgement. No, they’d not ever be friends. They both thought they knew best, wanted to be the sole protectors and providers. Their creator apologizes, has apologized, for that glitch in their matrix. She hadn’t wanted them to become as she was: a servant, a server, a provider. But broad shoulders shrugged off her useless sentiments, not in anger but acceptance. They were who they were and happy with their places in life. One, a dark knight, a paladin, with a righteous fury that slashed at her creator’s enemies with a broadsword and held evil at bay. Another, the djinn, a creature of fire and nature, a destructive force that brushed off what was considered right or wrong and thought only of what was wanted, who catered to her creator’s every whim because why the fuck not? Continue reading “A Scene Between Original Characters”
“Mi hija,” my mother would say whenever I got caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing, “Be a leader, not a follower. Tienes que ser un ejemplo para tu hermano y tus amigos (You need to be an example to your brother and your friends).” She would tell stories of her childhood in the Dominican […]
via Leading By Example — For Colored Girls Who Lead
If there is one thing people notice fairly quickly while getting to know me, my mom is an important part of my life. She is the head of my tiny immediate family, and will soon be a very important matriarch in my extended family (technically, she already is but that’s another tale). Family drilled its importance into my head from a very early age, usually to my own detriment although I know that wasn’t the intention. But good intentions sometimes lead to bad decisions, and I freely admit I made bad decisions thinking about how it would help my family without thinking about how it would hurt me.
2017 has been and continues to be a crazy year globally, nationally, and locally. In my own personal life, it has been a year of learning and growth. After two weeks of practicing the art of saying no, the audience being my own self-control and impulse to buy the newest fountain pen or shimmering ink to match said pen, I am increasing my goal of saying no and putting a goal and purpose to it.
Continue reading “Saying No For The Right Reasons”
I am not old. Almost 28, and yet I’ve helped in raising a lot of my younger cousins. This weekend I discovered, as most parents usually find out, that my kiddos are getting older and becoming adults. And I hate it.
Continue reading “Age is Tricky”