You yearn to get lost in sounds and pounds of beats,
In urban rhythms on city streets,
In the bright whites of lights or
On endless plains of green and kites
To fly away the fights and broken promises,
You promise this, to be forgotten, written
Over afterwords, bitten bitter, faster. Curse
Your lungs out and it still won't help because you'll
Be here.

Cheers, to golden years and hiding fears because
You want it all to change so you make goals on the longest range
Of time. You sigh, and try your hardest not to forget
What you've seen.
You've revised your dreams. A dirty screen over your eyes and you know exactly what this time.
Your prime
Will rhyme
With what you've seen.
So beg and plead and all of that but it breaks.
It rattles and shakes and cracks and breaks almost always.
Give or take, things fall away.
All the days
Give something to lose.

Senior year is freaking demanding, don't expect much till January, at least.

But an update:

I was cast in the fall drama! Back to the small, intimate cast setting & the good times without the drama. Ah, interesting how I start my last year in high school the same way I started my first. Full circle moment, much?

Oh, and I'm hoping for a lead role in the musical this year- we've got FAME fever.

Uhm, college applications are beating me over the head repeatedly.

And my father is a jerk.

Bye!

Just submitted my first college application ever.

It feels like a big deal.

Within the boundaries,
Dormancy prevails.
And I am stranded among the color-labeled quarrelers
Who fight for same,
And stand for their right to sit
And rot.

Quarrelers,
You choose for us,
Your life runs into mine.
Intricately weaved within each other.
Our lives, they burn in time.

You are burning lifelines
On your cigarettes.
Your old slave ways
Don't work today,
And you cry out, you say your saved.
But hush, look down
You helped to dig our graves.

Yesterday, I was listening to Michael Baisden, the self-declared old school bad boy of radio. As always, he was brewing up a steamy debate on a hot topic: strippers- er, I mean, exotic dancers (personally, I like that term better).

Needless to say, Baisden's faithful band of listeners called in and gave their two cents. But honestly, some of it was just plain ridiculous.

Their was a range of negative opinions, but most people thought of exotic dancing as disrespectful to oneself. Still, I was thinking, what does it matter to you if someone else (remember, we're talking about people in general- personal matters are obviously different) is disrespecting herself. I don't mean to sound selfish, but why do you care?

But by far, the worst argument I have ever heard is got to be "it's degrading to women".

News flash! You don't have to assume responsibility for what other women do. Because if some woman is dancing around a pole somewhere with a top off, it doesn't automatically mean that you do it too. And so what if some small-minded, ignorant men choose to believe that the stripper's stage is every woman's place. Screw them. They don't have anything to do with you, and you have nothing to do with them. Unless, of course, you choose to.

My point: it's your choice. If you enjoy allowing what random women do in god-knows-where affect you, then sobeit. But don't drag the rest of us into it.

Personally, I believe exotic dancing is an art. It's the piggish way in which it is appreciated that gives it such a bad rep. Exotic dancers have to be good actresses, as well as extremely physically fit and flexible. Plus, the human body is an art form. The greeks used to relish the human body, praising and celebrating its beauty. And if you think about it, we're all born naked. The natural world exists without clothing, and ultimately, the only purpose of clothing is protection from the weather. We have taken the simple invention of clothing- of cloth -and turned it into something way bigger than necessary. Surprise, surprise, human race.

But I digress. I simply think exotic dance is an art form that is highly under-appreciated. But on a much larger scale, I think we women are too quick to take responsibility for the actions of other women. Whether exotic dancing is an art form or a trash-fest, if you have nothing to do with it, you have nothing to do with it. Same thing with porn, or modeling. We have to stop letting the actions of others effect us if they are occurring so far away from home.