Tuesday, January 26, 2010

a day in the life of riva.




The world doesn't revolve around me. However, I certainly revolve around the world. Ask the random dude in the corner of Barnes and Noble, the guy at the Chipotle counter, my students who are probably begging their parents for an extra hour to stay awake, or the creepy dude who lives three townhouses down that waits on his door step each day for the sun to go down. They will tell you, I am always on the go. Sometimes the soundtrack for the day is The Roots "Things Fall Apart", Lupe's "The Cool" or John Mayer's "Continuum." Sometimes it is silence. Ask the unpainted ceramics from the dollar store if they'd like to shatter after I drew that ugly palm tree on them to match my Caribbean shower curtain. Ask the 75% off journals if they'd have rather stayed on the shelves next to the ridiculously expensive Moleskine's. Ask the cavities in my teeth how sweetly they indulged in the goodbye candy with the students who concluded their tutoring sessions today.

Wait.

I've got an even better one.

Lets ask the little girl inside me how she feels about coming home to an empty house. How every book on the new bookshelf, I constructed myself, is partially read and the pages apologetic for not keeping her attention? Lets ask her about the journals who lay unfulfilled but play understudy to the new novelties that catch her eye in the gift section of the bookstore. Let's ask her if she paints at 2am while quoting "Mona Lisa Smile" lines, a movie she's seen one too many times. How the ex-boyfriend from San Fransisco knows just the right time to call. It's 3am here, it's just struck midnight for him. He, knowing she lies awake with her thoughts again and begging her to know what's on her mind.

Perhaps she'll (me) speak about the mural above her bed that represents her inner-self. She'll yell of how she awakes to the smell of acrylic paint and dried ink on quality loose leaf. She will chat of the camera-phone pictures in the bathroom before school, talk of the new poem she wrote last night, and reminisce the slam days.

She will look in a mirror and try to remember who she used to be. Placing the center of her fingertips over every flaw and the almost-double-chin. Smile to assess the gap between her two front teeth and analyze whether she looks better with/without glasses. She will suck her stomach in, buckle those jeans, and breathe.

She will do it all over again. Insecurities kissing her pride and creativity laughing at her boredom.

She is not afraid to revolve around the world.

Her world, that is.

PS-

-riv-



5 comments:

Cook.ThePoet. said...

I like this post. Def got a more detail insight into who you are..

-Cook.ThePoet.

Lyrik Marie said...

Once again, another DOPE ass poem .. i swear I love u Rivaa .. You look BEAUTIFUL WITH UR NEW CUT !!!

stephanie mcawesomepants andrade said...

insightful. i really liked this and i loved your hair short btw :)

Chocolate__Ty said...

ok soooo i love it! I FEEL LIKE THIS WAS ME! lol it is something we can relate too! plluuus i love the new hair!

Schizophrenic Brooklynite said...

And Its GORGEOUS!! Im about to get real bold...