lyk the tree

@xroadproj.bsky.social Director @judithweisenfeld.com's book, *Black Religion in the Madhouse: Race and Psychiatry in Slavery's Wake,* will be the subject of a roundtable at #aarsbl2025.

😩 pls share the deetsss

their flushed gaze. a story, premonition creeping like ivy across the creases of their face.

my heart hurts, too, for the familiar story, the tradition of preemptive mourning, for friends and loved ones who fade into the ink of autumn nights.

the tall friend leans over in a partial, yet intimate embrace as two part ways. the star-crossed friend watches from the bus window as if willing their safety. their head cranes to follow them until they finally drift from their field of vision. something like uncertainty, gravel, encompasses

black love stories all around me, two black alt kids on the bus, both with bob length locs. one kid tall, lanky, deep brown skin gets up to depart at their stop, and the other kid, wicked cat eye, face gleaming with constellations of metal, and a spiked choker passes them their skateboard.

nigga assemblage

jettisoned out of the US and into a new territory—now why would i?

feeling less like a butterfly, more like a BITCH

pussy is a hot commodity and if niggas ain’t got no girlfriend, niggas ain’t got no pussy plug

Echo Brown, deep brown skinned woman with curly/wavy hair tucked back into a spirally coif. her lips, ears, and neckline decorated with maroon lipstick and accentingcherry red jewelry.

Echo Brown’s debut book, “Black Girl Unlimited,” the remarkable story of a teenage wizard

Echo Brown’s second book and sequel to “Black Girl Unlimited,” “The Chosen One,” a first generation ivy league odyssey.

maferefun Cleveland’s very own Magician, Echo Brown.

April 10, 1984 - September 16, 2023

the babies on the bus talk about going to John Hay and tryna convince they friend to come to John Hay. Echo went to John Hay.

just looked up and Echo’s departure date was 9.16.2023. it’s coming. i’m taking this as a sign to honor her on that day.

riding thru Central neighborhood and i’m reminded of my soror in hood faeship, Echo Brown, and she wrote about growing up in cleveland, (in Central I believe), being bright, having friends who are bright, and yet contesting with a landscape of consumption. not everyone made it.

black children on a bus talm bout senior seminar, honors classes, etc etc on a saturday. how beautiful.

i have to diversify my dick pool, this is unfair and unreasonable 😩

one thing the church did teach me is how to use the technology of music to enter trance states:to enter into the throne of worship. from this place, affirmation, blessing, the fruit of the word is born.

was meant to be a one-off and not an invitation into polite small talk.

me: 😇😇😇 period.

in a car with an uber driver.
before i even get in, rolls down window: “what’s ur name?”

get in car.
“what’s your pin?”

driving…
“you know, i just found out xyz place has a parking lot.”

me: *make a remark and ask a further question*

them: respond in a tone that suggests their previous remark

no seepage, no puddling, no muddling about with extenuous niceties and politicks.

just plain behavior and plain responses.

and i thoroughly enjoy a boundary. 😩

bad bitches have boundaries : how i will be treated; how i receive respect. anything less is not something i will entertain.

bad bitches have beautiful boundaries.

bad bitches have boundaries + boundaries are beautiful = bad bitches have beautiful boundaries.

sometimes sex feels like a chore of being entered and exited

what if god was the girl in the mirror, what if god was me?

what if god was a trans grl survivr, twisting her hair late for work… what if?

that’s a mfka who is well constituted 🙂‍↕️

when someone dies their energy is still present it is just the physical that is no longer. they are just fully in their energy body now and that calls for and requires a new language and mode of communication. they are still here, and we mourn the familiar, but they are still. ❤️

godspeed. 🙏🏾🕊️⚡️🕯️💟

i’m having such a hard time, singing songs like Perfect by Pink,

pretty pretty please, don’t you ever ever feel, like your less than, less than perfect,

and it feels too late because they’re already gone. they already decided. and it breaks. my. heart. 😩😫😫😫☹️

the finality + permanence of death | [from this side of the equation]

it’s unfair.
it’s a robbery.
they deserved more years, more choices.
it’s unfair.

eating/consumption really is a very godly thing in its singularity/exquisiteness.

thinking about it, consumption/ingestion is (one of?) the (only?) biological mechanism humans possess to fundamentally alter a thing.

whereas other processes of alteration and destruction rely on external chemical processes, we possess a chemical laboratory within our own bodies.

is a conquering."