Self Care Part 2/3 (Distancing)

Quarantine has understandably hit a lot of us really hard. However, social distancing was a lesson I needed to learn. Not just learning to physically separate myself from others and learn how to operate(I'm still struggling...as my blog so clearly implies), but also learning how to appropriately separate myself emotionally. 

The stressful situation has brought out a different side of people. Whether it's the lazier one, the one that's snappier, or the one that's constantly busy--it's different. And it's really helped in showing me who is worth it. Yes, I have lost some friends. And yes, I did cry over them. And it feels like every day I have to come to terms with who I'm missing and losing...and this quarantine has forced me to face those feelings head-on. The pain of losing people isn't swallowed down by daily life buzz anymore. I can't hide under the prospect of meeting new people. I'm stuck with what I've got and cabin fever is real. Even digitally--I can see my group chat friends becoming sick of each other.

I've become closer to certain people who I would've never even dreamed of confiding in. People who I met briefly and brushed aside before quarantine just so happen to be the ones stepping up now in my life. Though, I don't know if it's intentional. I don't know if they're just trying extra hard or if it's because I'm paying more attention to them. It's blunt, I know. But in late February and early March, I started detaching myself from everyone/constantly meeting new people. That mix meant that new "friends" never really got my attention. Hell, I once considered cutting all my old friends off. Point is, early quarantine gave my mind time to breathe and revitalize. The heaviness of the situation hadn't set yet so I used it as a mental clean up. Instead of forming new bridges, I looked back at all the old ones. I talked to people who hurt me, listened if they talked--cried if they refused--and started to see ways that I had hurt them. In the past few months, I've made up with so many people, lost so many, and made so many epiphanies...I feel like a different person. At first, I had been avoiding certain conversations because of the emotional baggage. Then when I tried to deal with it on my own I was too distant to realize what I had done wrong. 

Even now, I could end up being totally wrong about everything and wind up making a follow-up post in December. And honestly? That's perfectly okay.

Self Care Part 1/3 (Hygiene)

As I have stated several times, I am a teenager. And in typical teenage fashion, I am discovering a lot of things about myself and going through phase after phase. When I was younger, like pre-middle school, I never really took an interest in grooming and self-care. I was content with my mom doing my hair, I never shaved or washed my face, never used lotion or cleaned my nails and I honestly avoided taking a shower nearly every day. I know; disgusting. My excuse is that I was eleven and younger. 

Eleven is when I shaved for the first time--I was a bit of an early bloomer. It was when I first used deodorant, first started paying attention to my hair, etc. There's a video from CinemaSins, Everything Wrong With Inside Out, and in it, Jeremy points out that Riley's personality and interests went from five basic islands at age eleven to at least a dozen at age twelve because "the age of twelve is magic." (9:37) Riley even got an upgraded, more complex emotions panel and her core memories aren't just happy anymore. She now places value on her other feelings as well.

While I could go a completely different route here, I want to stick to the prompt. For once, I picked the prompt, specifically to express a new interest of mine. Self-care. Something I truly did not care about until twelve years old. At twelve, I got an iPhone and immediate access to the online world of beauty and health. At twelve, I received my first razor and started being conscious of body hair. At twelve, acne littered my face and demanded attention. At twelve, I first started questioning my hair and skincare. Twelve really was magic for me. 

Fourteen years old was when I started diving into skin and hair care. At twelve and thirteen, I really just washed my face every night with whatever hand soap I found and warm water. It was nearing the end of eighth grade that I felt the need to go out and get actual facial products. Even then, I just picked up whatever the drugstore had for cheap and started using it however I felt like. Like, there was a time when I would routinely tone after moisturizing. I really decided that toning should be the last thing I should do, without any more moisturizing, ignoring the fact that my first toner had alcohol in them. I know because I remember how horrified I was when I finally looked at the ingredients of my "trusty" toner and saw isopropyl alcohol and realized I was drying my skin out. 

Middle of last year, I began investing in hair care research. I began to learn more about my hair, and I realized just how difficult yet simple it was. I learned to be less obsessed with length and more concerned with health. This gradually lead to me noticing I loved to show others what I knew and even help them if I could. My hair love showed amazing results in a couple months and I started to wonder if I could do the same with my skin. Once my school closed down and I had the time to go on these internet spirals, I found dermatologists and skincare specialists on YouTube*, blogs that covered both hair and skin, and started researching self-care brands. I've learned so much and I keep seeing how much there is to learn and I just feel so hungry for more knowledge. I'm genuinely interested and have developed a tendency to share with anyone who will listen. Sometime in May, my mother mentioned dermatology to me as a possible career path.

Which, honestly seems plausible for me. I've already been accepted into a science and tech program, and within it, I was most interested in the biology track. Before this, I was still throwing ideas around and while I would love to go into freelance writing, I think I'd be more comfortable having something a bit more stable to pursue along with it. I looked into it very minimally, and I'm still deciding several things. But, it's definitely something I've been daydreaming about recently. And, a part of me wants to develop a skincare line made specifically to work with melanin and pigmentation. For now, it's all just speculation. But I've been passionate about this speculation recently, so I wanted to share.

Loving - "Farewell" Juice WRLD Type Beat丨Free Type Beat 2020 Prod. Jammy Beatz

Skipping beats, skimming things, slipping farther down--

In love with myself, tension melts. And joy's what I'm about--

Don't @ me, my memory's been slipping past me now--

Too busy, no biggies, I'm hearing happy sounds.

Seeing better days;

catching better rays.

Waking up on the sunrise gives me time to breathe.

Take the air and carbonize it

Meditate and harmonize it

What I missed most while compromising was being allowed to be.

The space to keep existing

between my body shifting.

I swear this changing thing keeps on jello-ing my thinking.

Any more, and I'd be sold that my brain's resisting.

But who could blame it? Cloudy frames it

and blocks out the shine. 

Give me a flame, a matching passion, I will turn out divine.

Just watch the action, front-row seat, and write down my motto.

No any alts ould ever dream of becoming as fine 

as this here prodigy and expert in being Tobillo.

Couldn't ask for any other, better or centered

pseudo-name to go under.

Holy damn, I'm loving me. :D

Beat Which Inspired This: Juice WRLD Type Beat - "Farewell" (0:25-1:29)

Poem Prompt: Luster

Looks like heaven from

Underneath a sheet of dust, dulling the

Shine and value. It

Tears up the purity and chrome and is

Eager to squash its uniqueness--

Ready to kill its very being.

Year One: Complete

June 16, 2019 - First Lovely (if you haven't caught up yet, I'm on the Twentieth now)

It had been an entire year. And really, that's all I have to say. It's been a year. I mean, my first blog had fallen apart in a month. Not to say the past year has been perfect, but it's been an experience--a bar setter if you will.
This next year, I want to stick to the plan I laid out about a month ago. Sunday: N/A; Monday: N/A; Tuesday: Turtle Thought; Wednesday: Poetry; Thursday: Movie Review; Friday: Lyrics; Saturday: Lovelies. There will be a change at some point since the Lovlies will definitely be through by the end of this year. I only have 80 planned, and according to my pre-set schedule, I should be in the forties by now. If I manage to catch up, they'll be done by the end of August. If not, definitely before 2021 rolls around.
This year, I achieved 167 posts, including this one. Tomorrow's will be the first of Year Two, and the goal is 200 posts. I know that's a lot, especially in comparison to this year, but I want to aim high. I love this blog and I want to do my best with it. This blog really is teaching me a lot about what dedication and consistently working really means. Rather than it being like school, where if you don't do the work you get a million immediate warnings and instant punishment, no one cares. If I don't post, no one complains, they just won't invest their time here. In school, the motivator is everyone breathing down your back and good grades. In a way, it's less motivation than it is forcing you to try. There are dozens of rules set in place with the aim of having everyone try.
Here, if you don't put it work, I get nothing. No teacher patting my back and consoling me, no classmate encouraging me, no letter home to warn me. All I get when I miss a post is this sick feeling in my stomach that I'm lazy and not putting in the effort. And we all know that with a little bit of chocolate, a sick stomach isn't much to tame. So then I do less, get fewer readers, less support--less of everything, really. And I'm the only one to blame. Who wants to support someone who doesn't try? I get that. This blog has shown me that. And before I get out into the real world in two and a half years, I hope this blog can help me correct that.

Top Posts:
First Lovely
Winx Club Review Episodes 1-3
Exercise
Upside Down (This picture prompt also went up on my Instagram)
Exiting

Be Yourself. Always.

Meant To - "Break-Up" R&B Smooth Instrument Prod. PDub the Producer

First off, I'm sorry.

I kinda sorta did you dirty.

Don't know what I was on--Lil Yachty--

thought a couple ones would get a Bugatti.

Blind by your intentions, ignored my inhibitions.

Sitting here no cap on, my own tears have rained on

down on my stupid self;

I hope they drown my stupid self.

Don't look at me like that--you've done worse if not more.

Mr. Director, where's my cue? I need to slam this damn door.

But wait a second, he'll plead a minute,

make me think for sure it was never meant to--

Never meant to get like this--

Never meant to--

Never meant to--

Never meant to get like this--

Never meant too--

Never meant to get like this.

Why have we become like this?

Slamming doors and breaking plates

and clawing at our faces.

I was only meant to love you and hold onto you tight.

Why is it we're like this?

Damn, this isn't right.

I'm tired of being against you.

Talk to me and I'll let you

come on in--Bienvenue.

I'm sick of fighting with you.

I'm sick of the water always coming outta your eyes.

Why can't we just man up and hang up our pride?

It's time you to realize the pain you've caused me.

Just communicate a little bit--it's not rocket sci-fi.

It was never meant to get like this--

Never meant to--

Never meant to--

Never meant to get like this--

Never meant too--

Never meant to get like this.

Why have we become like this?

Slamming doors and breaking plates

and clawing at our faces.

I was only meant to love you and hold onto you tight.

Why is it we're like this?

I swear this isn't right.

Never meant to get like this.

How did we degrade to this?

I can't stand your presence and you can't stand mine.

Sometimes I wonder why we continue to try

Then I look into your eyes

And for a moment it's alright

Beat Which Inspired This: R&B Smooth Instrumental - "Break-Up"(0:35-3:22) at 1.5x Speed

Poem Prompts: Illogical

For the first part: Unknown

For the second part: Orb

Pacing back and forth, 

Dennis was losing his mind.

"You have singlehandedly

defied all matters of physics

that I have spent my life learning."

he said.

He also said the glass was meant to break.

If I had thrown a rock,

both the glass and the orb should've shattered.

But the glass remained unharmed

and the orb was simply cracked.

"Maybe the orb has something inside;

that would explain the glow."

But looking at the orb,

I couldn't recognize it.

It was just a bright blue

perfectly spherical

orb

that was cracked.

"I know a guy.

He works with strange phenomenons,

he'll be our best lead."

Dennis held out his hand--

he was waiting for the bottle.

But I felt an attraction to it

and couldn't let go of it.

I held it close to my chest and shook my head.

Irritated, Dennis grabbed at it.

I flinched.

I don't know why I was being so illogical.

I had gone to him for help.

Yet here I was, denying him.

A voice in my head whispered to me,

it told me to hold on to the bottle,

to protect the orb.

"It's dying," I cried.

Blinking, I tried to figure out why I said this.

It felt as though someone had grabbed the reins

and was talking through me.

Again, involuntarily, I opened my mouth,

"Let me save the orb.

The orb, it needs me."

I swallowed what I could of my words,

looked at Dennis,

then ran.

My mind was so clouded,

all I could focus on was getting to the shore.

It was midday--

other people were out and about.

Many of them looked sideways at me.

A girl sprinting down the road must have been so unsightly.

I even ran into my cousin,

right into him, in fact.

We both paused and groaned in pain.

But before I could say anything to him,

I was off running again.

Mother will not be pleased.

I kept going.

Even when someone snickered at me--

or something bit at my ankle--

or a stick prodded at my heel--

I just kept going.

I slowed down once I reached the beach.

And my mind finally cleared up.

And I felt the pain.

I doubled over, unable to recall why I'd come.

While I groaned, Dennis caught up.

He was yelling at me,

berating me for my stupidity.

He grabbed the bottle and started dragging me home.

Then, I heard a siren.

Soft, lulling music coming from the ocean,

"Come, child. Be with us. We need you."

I ripped my arm from Dennis

and ran closer.

Dennis followed, but I only sped up.

But;

"No, child. The orb. It's dying. 

We need help. We need you."

I turned to Dennis, but I couldn't see him.

I only saw red, with a small, blue glowing orb.

I had to have that orb.

Happy Pride

In the midst of everything, I nearly forgot about Pride Month...

...As if. June 1st, my Instagram (follow me here!) feed was flooded with lgbt+ activists reminding me it's that time of year again. And, it's always such a wonderful place to be. Certain posts warm my heart. The ones of perfectly normal people doing nothing more than being who they are is exactly what all of this is about. Not to discredit those who go above and beyond for pride. I get wanting to fully support something so close to your heart. It's just that seeing average everyday people just be makes the whole community feel closer to heterosexuals and cisgenders.
It's almost as if being gay doesn't make you any less of a person.
To preface my ramble, I am straight. I've had times where I questioned, but for simplicity's sake, I could only see myself with the opposite sex long term. In no way am I saying that this movement is for me or that I deserve pity. The only reason I feel the need to do this is due to three things:

1) The recent killings of women such as Riah Milton and Dominique Fells.
2) Experiences with friends and family.
3) I ignored Pride on my blog last year.

Something I see often, in the black community especially, is this constant degradation of other sexualities and genders. For whatever reason, I see it more often from African Americans. I don't know if this is a universal issue, but from my personal experience, lgbt+ acceptance tends to be seen as a "white" thing. I used to go to a school where I knew--and I didn't really know--many people were out and open, and now I hear people shamelessly and unironically announce that they'd accept a lesbian friend and not a gay friend. When I talk about past experiences I tend to get mocked and told that I went to a white school. It's repulsive. The same people who preach that white people treat them unfairly, turn around and dehumanize other African Americans for something that really isn't anyone else's business. Now, more than ever, black people in the community need to be respected and protected.
People pumping out their bias against living, breathing human beings even more. Why should anyone be excluded from #blacklivesmatter for doing nothing more than being? 
Last year, I was less emotional with what I put up and saw no reason for a straight girl to put so much focus on Pride. But, I've seen so many close friends and family go through their own personal struggles. And I've seen so many friends and family bash their entire existence. All I want is to be as sympathetic as possible and extend an arm to those who I know have gone through something I can't even imagine. Pride isn't for me to judge, it's for me to support. My position is to acknowledge and respect the community, so I can't just not touch on it. Lgbt+ exists and ignoring the entire month dedicated to it feels too much like erasing it. So here we are.

Be Yourself. Always.

Offense - Juice WRLD Type Beat "Quarantine" Prod by Jammy x SephGotTheWaves

I remember when they all told me

never to let some shit get you off your feet.

Guess I never really felt that beat--

someone just popped off and now I'm all offkey.

Toying with me like I'm on damn strings,

plucking and strumming and watch 'em tear slowly.

Guess I never really did anything.

So many stabs in the back and I can now barely breathe.

Told me not to let nothing sink in--

defensiveness now the best medicine and

I'm suffering. They can see my veins draining.

My attempts, they're all seeming naive and--

Didn't think you'd start with all these secrets.

Didn't think you'd go and lie 'bout where we've been.

And how was I supposed to know?

Quote unquote, "Offense? None taken."

*Beat Which Inspired This: (0:23 - 1:23 Juice WRLD Type Beat "Quarantine")

Poem Prompt: Sunrise/Sunset

My first breaths were full of joy.

Father held me up to the dawn's rays

and fed me my first meal:

light.

He then lay me down

against my resting mother

and lovingly watched over as we both slept.

They continued to feed me

and they ensured I was full.

My mother taught me how to feed myself.

I would go out into our lawn

and fill myself with the morning light.

At some point, 

I noticed the light thinning.

But I continued to eat it and thrive on it.

And one day,

I couldn't see anything.

I went out into the lawn,

and it disappeared from beneath me.

I fell--to where? I don't know.

I still don't know.

I knew nothing, no one.

So I sat. I cried.

And when I couldn't cry anymore, I just sat.

I sat. And sat. And sat.

I fell over, and I thought this was it.

But I heard my mother's lull,

keeping me awake.

And in the corner of my eye, 

I saw a small, flickering light.

The lull was coming from it.

It took everything I had to lift myself up again.

And I still fell. So I tried again.

And I fell again,

so I crawled towards it.

It was blinding, I retreated again and again.

I couldn't handle it. The changes,

they were too much.

The lull, it was so soothing,

but it stung to go near.

But the dark, it was consuming me.

It was eating away at me bit by bit--

I knew I had to get out.

So I crawled and closed my eyes.

After what felt like years, I opened my eyes again.

I was on a cliff, staring off at the horizon.

On the edge,

were my mother and father--

they had been waiting.

I sat beside them and held their hands.

The sun crept over it,

carefully, allowing me to take it in

for the first time in decades.

I opened my mouth

and ate the light.

I finally felt full.

BlackoutTuesday

#SayTheirNames

Geroge Floyd. Jamar Clark. Philando Castile. Dreasjon "Sean" Reed. Ahmaud Arbery. Bothem Jean. Ezell Ford. Michael Brown. Kenny Ahmad Watkins. Stephon Clark. Laquan McDonald. Tamir Rice. Eric Garner. Dante Parker. Alton Sterling. Delrawn Small. Walter Scott. Eric Reason. Akai Gurley. John Crawford III. Rumain Bribson. Jerame Reid. George Mann. Eric Reason. Michael Lorenzo Dean.

Breonna Taylor. Sandra Bland. Michelle Lee Shirley. Redel Kentel Jones. Tanisha Anderson. Natasha McKenna. Bettie Jones. Atatiana Jefferson. Dominique Clayton. Michelle Cusseaux. Alexia Christian. India Kager. Bettie Jones. Janet Wilson. Mary Truxillo. Sylville Smith. Alteria Woods. Pamela Turner. Dominique Clayton. Dominique Fells. Riah Milton. Aiyana Stanley-Jones. Kathryn Johnston. Alberta Spruill.