On 7.13.11 I thought… 

      I’m actually not a good person. That’s why I tell my mom not to worry about me. Bad things never happen to bad people.  Sometimes, I wonder if everyone out there is proud of their every action. Am I the only one who’s made mistakes? Im-fuckin-possible. And that’s where my big head comes from -my head size is actually medium. Found that out today. –I’m not a bad fuckin kid. I turned out a-okay. 

      It’s why I don’t pity anyone. I’ve made it up in my mind that people decide their path of their lives. I remember when I did it. It was the day I decided to fill out the papers and apply for private school. I unconsciously made the decision that I no longer gave a fuck about other people. It was 8th grade. And I was about to lose all my friends to be the new girl at this all-white school (across the street from the all-black school. I knew where I was going. *wink*) But I did it anyway. It was the year me, Crystal and Sabrina really became friends. That was our summer. It’s like… the first official summer of the Boooyyss (i hate insiders, but I had to here.) They were my best friends –and they still are. We didn’t… talk about it lol. We kept it movin like people do. We didn’t hang out for a while. & then I came back around and Crystal had lost her virginity. I had to do it too. I wanted know how it felt. Fucking sex?  I needed to know. I wanna do it, I decided. Say what you want. I just wanted to know. It was curiosity that fucked Pandora
       I liked the sensation, I’m human… but I considered it a base act. It was something that was done for procreation purposes, it just happened to feel good if done the right way.  Sex never really mattered to me.  I mean… Liked when it was good… but it didn’t hold much importance to me in life. It was there. When I had a boyfriend, it was done. Or it wasn’t. Either way, we’d live. Truth be told, sex didn’t get “emotional” for me until later in life. Like.. not too long ago, actually. I’ve only really emotionally connected with like… lol… guys were a joke. I once had a list in my diary of the boys I liked at the moment (but with nick names). And my boyfriend saw it. And he cried. And I laughed. I was evil. I really was. And I gave him the “why are you looking through my things,” and went about my business. I apologized a little bit, but I probably called Crystal later and laughed. And please remember, I  I loved this boy. I actually did. But I didn’t know how to show that. He was my first real boyfriend, and he let me walk all. over. him. I could treat him how I wanted. He gave me what I wanted. Did what I wanted. When I wanted. How I wanted. If I wanted. I don’t know what it was. He was cute. Too cute even.  
I’m a manipulator. Someone called me that once. And it hurt because it was true. (lmfao). 
      Going to private school was my first truly selfish act. I knew we didn’t have enough to pay for it. I knew my mother would have to work hard. I appreciated it, but I didn’t feel bad. I mean… that’s my mom. What was she supposed to say when her daughter says she wants to go to private school? No? Not my mother. Not the mother who’s basement I had to clean out last summer of the biology books from 1975 that she had kept “just in case” (which she def put right in the shed in the backyard. She’s insane).
       When it came to school, I could have anything I wanted. I learned that early and abused it frequently. I went to all my school dances and needed an outfit. I needed shopping,  man. It’s what has always relaxed me. I didn’t really abuse her. I mean, I could only abuse her so far. I didn’t shop malls, I shopped Salvation Army. So when I ran up a tab, it’s cuz my stuff came to like…. $40. It was a lot for us. I had half a heart. I never liked when she spent anything over $100. That extra digit hurts when you have nothing. That might be chump change now, but fuck. The things I could do with $100, I would think. And I wasn’t doin shit really. I would go into stores and steal another $100 worth so it seemed like I was doing damage. I was a bad person.  That shits not cool. And while I feel remorse for things like that, I don’t regret it. Was stealing those things worth it? Yes, I believe so. I believe it was the things that made me cool. I believe that without those “things” I wouldn’t have been perceived as “cool” by my peers. But I never wanted to be too cool. I was good with being cool enough. I had (and have) pretty friends. A boy likes me here and there. I was chillin.  But I was still super smart. But I was supercool, at least I thought so. 
        I know you might not believe it, but… I didn’t have any feelings towards it. Sometimes I’m afraid of giving my “sob” story because it’s easy to feel bad for me, but really –no one should. We went through hard times because that’s what happens. That’s what needed to happen for us to get to where we are. We’re a strong bunch. I don’t know the things my brother and sister must have gone through. Because apparently, I had it a lot easier. So, here’s the spoiled brat telling her story.

    Part of me just wanted to prove I was smart. That I could do it. “If I get in, I want a diamond ring,” I told my mom. I was 15. The mouth on this kid, huh? I’ve never been easily satisfied. And so I passed the exam. And so my mother gave me the ring off her finger. If you don’t know, that’s my boo, right there. We’ve come a long way, she and I, but she put a ring on it early.  I didn’t notice it then, but she’d do anything for me. I got everything I wanted –which wasn’t much more than a pair of whites when the school year started. I’d have to buy my own when the summer hit. Then I went to private school and saw my first real-live labels. And got them by any means necessary . With help from the girls who wished they were me. That’s what I failed to notice in high school. In reality, they all wanted to be me. Here I was with this complex about my dark skin and my coarse hair and there was beauty underneath there. I just never took the time to care for myself. Which is expected and fine, I was just a kid. I’m glad I had all my esteem issues when I did. Get that shit out the way. I’m not sure what does it to us.

“Ma, did I cry when you dropped me off at kindergarten?”

“No… I… No… I don’t think so,” she answered.

“Did I ever cry when you dropped me off anywhere?” I asked laughin. She’s funny. She never knows nothin for certain.

“No. Tu estaba loca por get rid of me,” she laughed back.  I was just crazy to get out the house for real. I wasn’t a clingy child. I was always good everywhere. With everybody. Everyone has always loved me. Like… people don’t not like me. They might not like me, but they know that they have no reason not  to like me. Carl said he didn’t like me cuz I thought I knew everything. But then he realized I did. Even when I was younger. The teachers loved me cuz I did my work. The troublemakers loved me cuz I didn’t snitch. The snitches loved me cuz everyone else loved me & they follow the crowd. I wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t fly. I was just me. I was smart but I was cool ( I like to think). I didn’t start any trouble. I didn’t annoy the boys. I was just there. Everyone knew me, but only certain people really knew me. I was the black girl who hung around with whoever I was with at the moment –there weren’t a lot of dark skinned girls in Central Falls when I was livin there.

That’s why I don’t live there anymore. I don’t live anywhere.

 I own the world now.