Thursday, December 17, 2009, 1:32 AM
it is simply undeniable that there are social worlds that invite others to join in. it’s not an essentialist claim but neither is it an anti-essentialist claim. it’s something i think my friend Arthur describes as the “materialist retentionist” strain or grain that runs in and through and over black folks. he thinks that there are “levels” of culture that are enacted and performed based on material availability. he was over the crib yesterday and pretty much making the argument that when the enslaved were transported to the americas, whatever culture they could carry in their heads – the patterns, musics, dance; the ways of breathing and doing, ways of caring and sharing, ways of conjuring and conceiving – could more easily be passed from generation to generation as well as dispersed amongst people. it’s a pretty sophisticated argument to say something like we remember, or maybe i’ve gotten his theory totally wrong.
but you know i’ve been talking about pentecostalism as if it’s some sorta monolithic group. but there are all kinds of pentecostals with all sorts of doctrinal beliefs. but what i find most curious and most interesting is how there is a pretty consistent theme of movement, motion, migration, that most pentecostals – even if they do not themselves individually engage – do no balk at the sight of what others find unseemly praise.
of course, there’s something seemingly a bit problematic in the construction of the above paragraph, beginning every statement as if it is some such would be adversarial conjunctive utterance. but the rhythmic feeling i was going for in that paragraph with all the buts is the same sorta quality for which, if anything, New Dawns aspired toward, a sorta pentecostal open-ended-like resistance to resolve. each utterance of the but, not contradicted or stood in contradistinction, but opened up a way, a way of escape, widened the ever widening circle of thought, emotion.
and it is exactly how New Dawns would perform. but Bobby would introduce a rhythm. but you’d follow, with the bare architectaural blueprint, the bare bones, so to speak, of what would eventually become song. what you’d hum or moan or line out was both more and less than melody, it was evacuative structure, withdrawn breath, tendency and tentativity of the voice, hesitance and reticence, giving sound and words while remaining every so wary of them being somehow conclusive. stuttering, scatting, we might say that it was a poetics of pentecostalism: just as one plays at shouting, initiates by that slight and jubilant dance – deliberative – ever so, and a bit, lightly, not glibly but with eyes open, looking around while the feet tap-tap-dip, tap-tap-dip. well. your singing would begin with some kind of chant or repetition. but we’d hear. but Jaylah would come first with that alto, full of vibrato and conviction, sometimes in a minor, plaintive strain against your melody though it was difficult to know. but it was not until Jaylah’s entry that i would begin to figure out a way, a way towards harmonics, following and creating harmonic phrasing, clicking the tremolo then the chorale and back again. but Jalisa would enter, with her soprano register, oft changing the tonal center with her voice. cutting, augmenting what was already there. but Salim would round out the voices, tenor holding some such thread of melody. but then, and only after the entry of all voices; but then, and only after i was chording, would i end phrases with the bass pedal points. but of course there were tambourines, but much, much later.
i remember the first time we sang like that, each one entering the sonic conversation from the pew, wherever we were seated and the congregation seemed dumbfounded. dumbfounded but they could not also help but be moved by our hollers and wails and tonalities. we revised prayer for zelophehad’s children to zelophehad’s daughters, and with the revision of the title was also the introduction of 5/4 rhythmic pacing and spacing, some new inheritable but nonreproductive call and call against response. our voices didn’t so much respond to the other as much as the voices called out in recognition for the other [it’s like the difference between glossolalia and xenolalia … the former is for the other, utterance as commons but incomprehensible; the latter is of a “self,” an assumed possible core stability that we call identity … but more on that some other time]. each voice was allowed to occupy its sonic space, a field or zone of voiced movement, wherein the voices tried not to touch and agree as much as they tried to detect distance and dwell together by buoyant engagement. the rhythm, of course, was Bobby’s fault, but we made do and did something new. and true to form, voices simply fell out when they were exhausted from singing. the congregation would always and undeniably be in it by the time we were done, so the open-endedness worked, they filled in the space where our sound once occupied, we moved them and were so moved.
i get angry when folks tell me, as did a couple of acquaintances said after one of our performances – you were there; you’d remember if you could – it don’t take all that!, that what we did was a shade on the side of excessive, too expressive and unnecessary. pretty much the same sorta critique i heard about growing up at the storefront pentecostal church, where services were too long and we were too tired to do anything once we got home sundays except sleep. it don’t take all that is really a claim about authenticity, saying that, as my friend reminded me of Gertrude Stein’s statement, there is no there there. it’s a claim that approximates the idea thatsince it does not ”take all that” to have an encounter with the divine, that which happens there, the “all that,” that excessive and expressive strain is nothing other than posturing that posits something that is anything but “real.” i can almost hear someone saying if i can be quiet and composed and have an encounter with the divine, your sweat is merely performance. the weird thing is this, though: i think most pentecostals would agree and say, no, it doesn’t “take all that.” but whereas the former is critique, the pentecostal claim is to say but we still do it, and most importantly including the idea, and you should join us.
i’m pretty cool with the idea that pentecostals don’t get everything right. what i love about the tradition, though, is that it is fundamentally invitational, it constantly says to come in, eat, have fun, dance even if you don’t know how to, tarry, sweat with us. the music of New Dawns was seeking that notion of joining and togetherness. we never “finished” our songs but left them undone on purpose. it’s like this: pentecostalism is about transfer, the in-between. things don’t end, energy just modulates from moment to moment. we did not aspire towards perfection but towards pursuit, towards journey, towards carrying. sure. we could’ve sung normal songs and sung with staid composure. the performances toward the divine we created did not necessitate the excess. but the excess was the coolest part of the performances, i think.
of course, there was too much excess, not in terms of New Dawns, but you did charge me with that in terms of our relationship. i was, what was it? too intense? i believe that is what you said. but it’s funny how time changed things because, initially, it was i who was being pursued and thought you a bit too…much. there was the nadir when we sorta matched each other in intensity and fucking and all that … and things were cool for a while, when you thought it was a passing phase, that eventually you’d take up the intensity again and i’d repress myself. let you lead the way or some shit. but you changed me, so it was a new way of life, a fact i did not want to change. that it was not only intense for you but for me, quite quotidian to be and do in such excessive a manner? well. i suppose it was just…just too much. eloquence is not necessary here. it was just too much. and thus, the end. of New Dawns. of us. i wish we learned to expect more out of life, such that the quotidian is not excessive and the too much is a way of life. i still hold out for that possibility. at least between us.
Sunday, December 20, 2009, 2:19 AM
Subject: old convo!
so i’ve been sitting at my desk reading all these old IM convos … i wanted to free up some space on my computer or get rid of the junk and found this folder. anyway. it’s the first convo i had with moth’s powder on IM … we were so deep, weren’t we? i keep looking through all the conversations he and i had because, well, time waits for no one. i think this is when i knew i could love him:
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:10pm]: yo
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:10pm]: yo…wassup
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:11pm]: nothin…sittin here thinkin…tired and ready to go home
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:13pm]: you’re not home yet? where are you?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:13pm]: still on campus. had choir rehearsal tonight and now i have to study for an exam.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:14pm]: womp womp womp
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:14pm]: haha
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:15pm]: what did you all sing?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:17pm]: you know, you can still play for us. we really need someone who is good…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:17pm]: what did you all sing?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:18pm]: we sang that song
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:18pm]: you know how i feel about church
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:19pm]: by ricky dillard, the new fast one
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:20pm]: church just makes me feel really out of control i think. and i don’t know…i grew up and my father. he was just funny about that sorta stuff.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:21pm]: oh, ricky dillard. cool!
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:21pm]: what’s your father gotta do with it?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:23pm]: yeah, we could use you. jamison doesn’t know what he’s really doing. he’s just learning. he’s really not that good.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:25pm]: yeah. my father. when my brother and i were younger, our father would never allow us to sing with the jurisdictional state choir
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:26pm]: what’s that? you know i’m baptist. must be some cogic thing…lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:28pm]: the state choir was sorta like a statewide “community” choir where people from the churches in our jurisdiction in the state would gather to sing during our annual meetings and convocations
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:28pm]: oh
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:31pm]: yeah…and so the reason our father was so against the idea was because, according to him, there were far too many gay men in the choir
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:32pm]: they were too “funny” and he ain’t want that to rub off on me and my brother. well.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:32pm]: fail!
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:37pm]: wait…are you still there?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:41pm]: haha. yeah. my bad. yeah. i guess we could say that his desires – at least for me – were were a fail.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:43pm]: haha. true. the same for me, sorta. i never wanted to sing a lot when i was growing up. i was already short and skinny and nerdy.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:46pm]: YES! well, not the skinny part but yes!!!
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:48pm]: yeah. and i just knew that the gays were going to hell. i knew that the gays sang. so i didn’t want to do that
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:49pm]: me too. it’s weird. i was the exact same way
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:52pm]: like, but what still is hella interesting to me the way my father linked the choir with being gay. and i ain’t wanna be that
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:52pm]: true
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:52pm]: but
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:54pm]: and even though i loved music …
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [10:54pm]: what?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [10:59pm]: it’s like, my brother and i would “play church” and he would always be the preacher and i’d always – always – be the choir director and the choir and the soloist and the musician. pretty much, i loved everything about music and would write down lyrics of all sorts of songs just so i could learn them but after my father’s resistance to singing with the state choir, i became much more hesitant to sing anything myself
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:03pm]: i didn’t have a choice. they kept pushing me to do things at my church. sing, direct, play the piano. all of it. i didn’t want to do it but i did. make sense?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:04pm]:: yeah. something like that. i’m so weirded out by how similar we are. or, how much we have in common. shit is such a turn on…lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:05pm]: it’s a turn on that we’re alike? so you really want to date yourself? narcissistic ass! haha…j/k
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:06pm]: no no no! no. it’s just…i rarely meet someone who gets me…like gets me, gets me. and i think you do. i mean…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:08pm]: i did not, at that time, want to be gay so i stopped everything that would presumably make me gay.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:11pm]: so i curiously began “catching colds” right before any time i was supposed to sing. and instead of standing in front of the choir to direct, i acted aloof as hell but would talk shit about just about anyone who directed because “i can do it better than them…”
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:12pm]: that’s deep. and kinda stupid…but deep. we fight this too much. but you thought that being musical would make you gay?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:15pm]: i don’t know. there’s a book that i had to read a couple of weeks ago that talks about how even the phrase “being musical” was a code for being a homo in the early 20th century
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:15pm]: stop lyin…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:16pm]: but i’m dead ass. the book was talking about how a dude wrote his mother a letter that was pretty much a “coming out” letter where he was on some
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:17pm]: mom, i’m sorry i can’t be athletic…i want to be a musician and his parents were trippin because of it.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:17pm]: damn
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:18pm]: pretty much. so i mean, i’m not alone thinkin that “being musical” was somethin gay or somethin…my father thought so…and i thought so…so i just pretended to be sick…get around having to sing or whatever altogether.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:18pm]: you’re …
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:18pm]: you’re like …
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:19pm]: what?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:20pm]: you fascinate me or something
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:20pm]: but can a black man blush? because…i think i am…right now
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:23pm]: i mean, shit. you just made me think of this woman that came to our church when i was ten or eleven years old. i don’t know what the hell she was talking about but i do remember her saying something about ”sissies fanning over the choir” and about “bulldaggers”…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:24pm]: seriously? i ain’t surprised though…she was probably a lesbian …
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:25pm]: yeah. i remember it because when she said the sissies thing, people kinda sorta looked over at me, but not really. kinda like the gasp for breath that wasn’t. you could almost hear everyone stop breathing … because, if anything, i was kinda gayish
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:25pm]: was? haha…j/k
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:26pm]: nah…you know what i mean, though. they knew i was different so even her saying something was a kind of jab
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:27pm]: yeah. for me, i was always afraid of getting called out. this one white dude evangelist came to our church one time
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:27pm]: and this was right after my parents got a computer and we had AOL and i began going online in chatrooms to meet dudes and had sucked a dick for the first time …
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:28pm]: …
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:28pm]: my bad. lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:29pm]: but yeah. so this evangelist was at the church and had a prayer line and was calling people out on some
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:30pm]: someone is sick
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:30pm]: sometime has a toe ache
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:31pm]: nice and precise, i see! lmao
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:33pm]: haha…yeah. it was a mess. but yo. then he called out this dude i was messin wit that i met on the partyline (and i swear, somebody should like, do a study about the kind of religious and social life of phone chat lines…i’ve met more pastors and evangelists on there than anywhere)
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:34pm]: you a fool! lmao
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:34pm]: yo…keep typin…i gotta go to the bathroom…brb
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:35pm]: oh … iight … hurry up…lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:36pm]: but yeah. so this evangelist is on some you’ve been hanging with people that aren’t good for you … god said it get it right or you will be destroyed as he destroyed the people of sodom and gomorrah
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:38pm]: well shit. i was scared shitless. because my mother AND father were there and i did not know if they suspected i was gay or whatever. but i didn’t want them to suspect it. so
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:44pm]: i’m back…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:44pm]: welcome back
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:45pm]: so yeah. he does all this praying for that dude but ain’t say shit to me or even look at me.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:46pm]: he probably met the dude on the partyline himself
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:47pm]: i wouldn’t have believed it then. but damn. all that i’ve seen and heard? it’s plausible.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:50pm]: haha. plausible? they probably fucked right after the service. my music mentor took me to a service to hear her cousin play the organ. the dude that preached talked about how fornication was taking over the young people at his church but how he prayed against it and they won the victory. and how the spirit of homosexuality was going to take over too but they pleaded the blood of jesus
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:50pm]: and wham! it was gone!
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:50pm]: just like that
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:50pm]: in an instant
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:51pm]: who knew it was so easy?!
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:51pm]: haha
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:51pm]: after the service…this fool says to me
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:51pm]: uh oh
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:52pm]: right. he’s like i can tell you’re a bad boy and flashed a smile
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:52pm]: what the fuck?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:53pm]: dude. i was 16…i ain’t know what he was saying or what he meant
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:54pm]: that’s crazy as hell
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:55pm]: dude! i said um…no… and he said it again no no, i can tell you’re a bad boy!
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:56pm]: but he wanted to preach against that shit right before?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [11:56pm]: exactly.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [11:59pm]: i don’t know, man. that’s why i don’t really fuck with church too much. too much contradiction.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:02am]: maybe. maybe. but, i don’t know. the preacher was in his late 50s at least, maybe even early 60s. he was probably lonely. the church sorta preaches that you’ve gotta be lonely to be holy, if you’re gay or whatever.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:02am]: but it’s not fair
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:04am]: it doesn’t have to be fair. i said to a friend of mine, had he been cute, i probably would’ve “understood” him…he just wasn’t attractive to me
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:04am]: that’s kinda fucked up, dude
moth’s powder: (12:05am] i don’t know if it is or not. i know it’s what i was thinking…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:06am]: but you said you didn’t know what he was talking about
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:07am]: but i could feel what he meant. does that make sense?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:07am]: maybe. i think i felt what you meant when you told me to take your number down. i’m still like…in awe
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:08am]: why?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:08am]: you did it in front of everyone. almost like reckless abandon
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:09am]: come on! you’re a pentecostal…you know all about lettin things go and lookin crazy…lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:10am]: word? it’s like that? lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:10am]: damn. i like you.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:10am]: it’s reciprocal. you’re very…forward
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:11am]: it’s part of the charm. i’m dangerous, though. you shouldn’t mess with me. i’ll break your heart.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:12am]: but you’re the one who came after me
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:13am]: i know what i like and what i want…doesn’t mean i’m good for you
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:13am]: but i’m already into you…you’re gonna have a hard time refusing me if you don’t stop now.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:13am]: well.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:14am]: well.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:15am]: it’s like…you also made me wait for you…made me go to the diner with you. it was just…very forward.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:16am]: so what do you think, though? could you even be with someone? i know you told me that you’ve not been in anything real or serious before…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:17am]: i’m sure i could be. or, let me say, i’m open to the idea.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:17am]: just the idea?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:18am]: i’m really just too emotional. and too hypersensitive about things. i cried the day my maternal grandmother died…the entire day…before i knew she was dead. just didn’t feel right…
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:19am]: oh…so you’re a psychic…lol…that ain’t holy! lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:19am]: nah. not that. my parents knew. and i could feel the way they felt. and they felt sad. so i felt sad.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:20am]: so what do you feel…now?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:20am]: i’m not sayin
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:20am]: why not?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:20am]: i’m not sayin
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:21am]: you copy and pastin shit?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:21am]: i’m.not.sayin…!
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:21am]: stop it
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:21am]: lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:23am]: seriously. what do you feel now? it’s ok if it’s nothing…
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:23am]: but is it ok if it isn’t?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:24am]: if it isn’t?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:25am]: what if its something? what if i feel something that i’ve tried not to feel for a while?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:25am]: that might. excite me.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:26am]: but you told me not to get excited. why should you be allowed to and not me?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:27am]: i just…i don’t know
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:27am]: don’t know?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:27am]: there’s been a lot that has happened to me
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:28am]: that doesn’t make you special
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:28am]: that’s kind of an asshole thing to say
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:28am]: shit. i ain’t mean it like that. of course you’re special. i mean…
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:28am]: …
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:29am]: i mean, things have happened to us all.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:29am]: true. but shit has made me…guarded
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:30am]: the ole okeydoke
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:31am]: what does that even mean?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:31am]: it means that maybe i should just believe you when you say that you will break my heart
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:34am]: *sigh*
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:34am]: wait. this is far too much for this conversation … lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:37am]: i have always been an intense dude
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:37am]: well. meet your match
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:37am]: oooh! is that right?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:41am]: i like you.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:42am]: is that right?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:42am]: right.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:44am]: so you think you could be in a relationship with a dude? a real one?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:44am]: i could.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:45am]: how do you even know?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:45am]: i just know
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:45am]: that’s not reassuring … lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:46am]: it should be. and i think you’re making excuses. making me unbelievable. untrustworthyable. no. that’s not a word. lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:48am]: shouldn’t we eat together a lot more before that’s determined?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:49am]: i could ask the same about your knowing that you’d break my heart…
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:52am]: but it seems that’s all i do
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:52am]: break hearts?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:52am]: break hearts.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:53am]: but why? if you know you do it, stop it. i know this perfect guy too…
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:53am]: haha…do you?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [12:57am]: and if it were that easy? well. i would’ve stopped it a while ago
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [12:58am]: what. you turn into a vampire or some shit?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:02am]: no. not that at all. one day, i’ll explain a bit. right now? i’m still at the library and need to be finishing up this paper.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:03am]: instead, you’re wasting time talking to me…lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:03am]: it’s not time wasted yet
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:03am]: flirt.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:04am]: <smile>
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:11am]: but you really, really should think about music again. i know people that know you. they say some nice things about you on the organ.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:11am]: haha. they’re lying, i’m sure.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:12am]: your false modesty is cute. lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:12am]: it’s not false.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:14am]: anyway. you should. remember? i have a concept for a group that i think you’d maybe like
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:17am]: maybe. i don’t know. it’s like, i stopped with the music because i felt that if i stood before a choir or group and directed their singing, or if i wrote songs, or if i played the organ, something of their voices would wrap around me and make me drop my hips, sway my head and get into it and make me, force me, compel me to be and become gay
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:17am]: but you are gay
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:19am]: thankfully! lol. but now that i’m all cool with it, i’m just not all cool with the church.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:19am]: you’re hurt
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:20am]: eh
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:20am]: it’s ok to be hurt
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:20am]: eh
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:21am]: typing with stuttering fingers again?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:21am]: eh
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:22am]: lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:25am]: i’m just saying. we don’t need to pretend that the places that were formative for us, the places where we learned to sing and dance and love others, where eat ate dinner and got hugs and lipstick smudged on us … we don’t have to pretend
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:26am]: lipstick? pentecostals don’t wear makeup! lolol…j/k
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:27am]: well, you know. we don’t have to pretend that we weren’t hurt. and that it’s not real.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:27am]: i suppose
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:30am]: what’s gained by acting as if you’re superman?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:30am]: i have a funny story to tell you about a dream i always have with a white and black superman fighting each other…lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:30am]: um…lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:32am]: but yeah. i mean, i understand.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:32am]: do you? you seem to be still worried that someone will know something about you that you don’t want them to know
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:33am]: you’re not the only one that’s guarded
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:34am]: touché…or, just touchy. either way…lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:37am]: i had to use my old typewriter to finish a paper at my parent’s house last week. and forgot about the delete tape.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:38am]: what?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:44am]: haha. the delete tape. it was this clear tape that you’d use whenever you have a typo. the typewriter was electric so it could “remember” what was typed and if you made an error, it would go back to that space and “type” over the error with the tape and the tape would be imprinted with the same letter and the black would be removed. so it would be a kind of “delete”
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:44am]: i’m…confused.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:47am]: well. i mean. it’s weird. we don’t think about deleting the same way anymore. or, maybe it’s just me. but like, with the delete tape, the machine had to go back to the same spot in order to remove the problem. now, we can just click a button before we print. we might have problems with print cartridges running out of ink, but not with delete tape.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:48am]: i’ll just repeat…i’m…confused…lol
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:50am]: lol. no. don’t be. i’m just sayin. i don’t feel the need to go back to the place that caused me problems in order to fix them. i can just…print something different altogether. pretend the problem was never there.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:51am]: but what if you have a typo. you don’t correct it?
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:51am]: of course i do
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:51am]: then the difference is a bit illusory…or at least a ruse
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:51am]: how?
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:53am]: you still have to go and fix it. even if it’s just technology making a squiggly red mark under a word to let you know it’s spelled incorrectly, you’ve gotta still highlight that spot to fix it. you may go there differently, but you still go there
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [ [1:53am]: hmm…
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:54am]: and you still go there…the church, i mean. you engage it differently. but you do go. you have your way. you told me you only listen to gospel. and a bit of everything else.
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [ [1:54am]: i suppose.
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:55am]: haha. i need to go, sir!
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:55am]: then go! lol
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:56am]: only if you promise to talk to me again
amissesyoutoo → mothspowder [1:57am]: i want nothing more
mothspowder → amissesyoutoo [1:57am]: until then…
every time i read it. i dunno. it just all seems hurtful now. wish i could go back in time or something … change everything.
— — —
Sunday, December 20, 2009, 4:04 AM
Subject: Re: old convo!
hey babes! so i’m just getting back from the club because your nephew’s other grandmother decided to give me the night off! i’ve missed dancing…but that’s not the point. the point is: IF I THOUGHT YOU WERE AWAKE RIGHT NOW, I’D CALL YOU!!! omg. really?! did you read that convo? who talks like that unless they are in love? can i tell you how i WISH a dude would talk to me like that … *swoons* … but like, the funniest part is how the time just kept on moving without yall even paying too much attention to it. you should’ve just left your house and met him at a diner – i know you love those, lmao – and talked. but whatever…it was just…lovely.