Fakeness

Shaking my head.

       It amazes me how fast people are willing to tear down someone who has worked very hard to get where they are. It amazes me how, after all these years, and the civil rights movement, it still comes down to what color someone is. It amazes me how far people will go to tear down someone's feeling of security. How someone will use anyone they can to tear someone down. Not only do they target that person, they have to target everyone they know and love. Not caring about the chaos they leave in their wake. Not caring who, or what they destroy as long as there is ultimate pandemonium in the end.
       For something that is making a difference, someone that is making positive changes in this messed up world, why would someone want to stop the good work they are doing? Why would someone want to reverse the positivity that has been created? Why does everything have to come down to race?
       Fakeness.
       People say it's fake. Everything that has been created. The unity, the community that has resulted. All the good that has, and people want to tear it down simply because of color.
       They say leaders can't have secrets. That leaders can't have private lives with their families. That if there is one miscommunication, then nothing is true.
       Some things can't be understood I guess.
       But speaking of fakeness, think about the accusers.
       You think they don't have secrets?


C'est La Vie.
Viva La Vida.
And Fuck the System.
Peace.
Signed, hot_tunes♪♫

aka. Esther Dolezal
(In case you thought I was lying about my name)

Not With Me, You Don't

So I'm feeling hopeful, and also scared to death of life right now. I had an offer to work as a live-in caregiver for a wounded veteran, but After just staying in the same apartment with him for a few days, I can Not imagine living with him for a year. I mean, I am pretty sure laying next to your patient, and "letting him have some body heat" is not in the job description. Neither is selling marijuana, and prescription pills. Also, I don't recall sleeping in bed with him and his wife, to 'put pressure against his chest' being in the paperwork. Not to mention, he is one of the most controlling, rude, conceited people I have ever met. Now don't get me wrong. Everything he has done with the military and fighting for this country has made him earn my respect. I respect his sacrifice for freedom, but I will not let him use me for a cuddle buddy and or anything else. What disturbs me even more, is the way he treats his wife. Like she's a slave or something, and I am not about to sign up for that for a year. The way he just wants me to completely cut off my social life, relationships with friends, family, and significant others bothers me. I barely even know him, and he just wants me to leave everything to sit quietly by his side, and massage his back. Yeah, no. When I left this morning for good, he tried to tell me how money was more important than friends, or family, because personal relationships aren't going to pay the bills. Well, no they're not going to put cash in my pocket, but true friendship is much more important than money. Money can be gone in a heartbeat, but a friend will always be there. Yeah, it sounds like a good opportunity; take care of someone for a year, and have college tuition, and cash to spare. But I'm not going to sit around being someone's Stepford slave.  I may not be rich, and yeah, I have a shitty place to live right now, but I'm young. that's just the way life is. I may not have much, But I do have freedom to do whatever I want, and 'give body heat' to whoever I want. And I'm sorry if whoever I want is not a 51 year old man.
I don't mind taking care of basic needs like cleaning, and cooking, and whatnot, but there is nothing in my paperwork about mandatory personal contact, so I am going to have to look for other opportunities elsewhere.
I will not be used by anyone.
C'est La Vie.
Viva La Vida.
And Fuck the System.
Peace.
Signed, hot_tunes

Purple

I've been told that a lot of people can be defined by their favorite color. In my case, my favorite color is purple. When I looked up what the color purple said about a persons personality, it said that if your favorite color is purple, you are a peaceful and tranquil person, and you have a quiet dignity about you. This is strange because I rarely feel peaceful or tranquil, but so many people ask me "How do you stay so calm?" and "Doesn't anything bother you?". I guess I don't appear to be stressed on the outside ever. It makes so sense to me. My boyfriend once said that the fact that I always seem so peaceful was one of his favorite things about me. I mean I don't think there is really such a thing as a truly peaceful or tranquil person; life is too unpredictable for that. But I do think that there are people who have a bigger capability for peace than other people. A better understanding of the way life can make things more or less difficult for people. I don't necessarily believe I have a big capacity for peace. It's probably something dysfunctional with my facial muscles that makes me seem so peaceful all the time. Someone told me that I always seemed cool and content today, and I almost laughed out loud. I mean right now with the way by boyfriend has been acting lately, I feel just about everything but peaceful or content.

Another characteristic of a purple personality is creativity which I can definitely relate to. I've always been creative and artistic. From the way I dress, to the music I write, I love the unconventional. I love to stand out. When I was younger, I went to private schools which required me to wear school uniforms. Now if there is one thing I hate, it's looking the same as other people. I hate blending in, being invisible. I used to always do crazy things with my hair, like dying it purple or blue, and wearing crazy shoes. My creativity and originality applies to my music in the way I hate playing music written by someone else. Now that doesn't mean I refuse to play music written by others, I of course play the music of the great composers, but I would much rather play something I made up.  

Purple is a powerful color. Purple is the strongest wavelength of the spectrum. Purple is also a very rare color when you look at nature; there are very few purple plants, animals, or fruits. Purple was also the hardest color to create dyes for clothing; it takes almost 12,000 shellfish to make about 1.5 grams of pure purple dye, barely enough to completely cover a roman toga back in the day. Purple is powerful because of it's rarity, but also in the confidence it takes to rock the color purple. Back in the day, only royalty wore purple. Purple was the color of wealth and of power.
I don't see myself as wealthy or powerful, but I know there is strength in the color. And there is strength in me.
C'est La Vie.
Viva La Vida.
And Fuck the System.
Peace.
Signed hot_tunes♪♫

Womanizing Not Allowed

One thing I forgot about being on the streets, is how people view me. People meaning men in particular. It amazes me how on a 98 degree summer day, if I walk down the street wearing shorts, or a sundress, so many  men feel as if they have the right to hit on me. To smack my butt. To assume I am a prostitute, and try to pick me up I don't understand our culture. How is it, that if a woman gets raped, most people assume that it was her fault? "She was asking for it" they say, as if that makes everything ok.
I'm sorry, since when is it wrong to wear shorts? It's hot outside. Just because I happen to look nice, does not give you the right to objectify me. Just because I'm black does not mean I'm gonna drop it and twerk for you. I'm not going to get into your car because you're sticking a fifty out the window at me.  I refuse to become some sex object just because media tells you it's ok to treat me as one. You know, I feel sorry for people who choose to view others as an object. I pity you, because it shows that you were treated the same way, and it's all you know.
I'm sorry, but just because I'm young and in shape does not mean I owe you a strip tease. Just because I dress nice does not mean that I dressed for your eyes. Yes, sometimes I wear clothes that make me sexier than the average person. I wear heels. I wear leather. I wear lipstick. I have wild hair. That's who I am. And when I am dressed in an outfit that appears sexy, I am still careful to carry myself with poise and grace. I am not a woman. I am a lady. I treat others the way I want to be treated. I don't believe in judging someone just by the way he or she looks; and when I am dressed modestly, I believe I deserve the same respect I give to everyone. Sure, I'm on the street, but I don't believe in acting "ratchet" just because that's what people assume I am. I am not a "big booty ho" I am not a hooker. I do not work the streets, and I would thank you kindly to realize that.
Predatory behavior is not only vulgar and disgusting. But it is illegal. You might think that whistling at a thirteen year old girl is giving her a compliment, but by law, it is considered as sexual harassment. Pulling up next to a girl on a street curb and telling her to "hop in" is abusive behavior, and is punishable by a large fine, and time in prison. Some people may take this lightly, but I believe everyone deserves respect.
You know that saying "You have to give respect to get it"?
Screw that.
Just give it, and the getting will take care of itself.

C'est La Vie.
Viva La Vida.
And Fuck the System.
Peace.
Signed, hot_tunes♪♫i

The Other Side of the City

It's amazing how quickly it can all fall apart. How easily someone can snap leaving disaster in their wake. How suddenly hopes and dreams can shatter. How fast someone can go from having it all, to having nothing. How unexpectedly someones reality can collapse around them.
I've been lucky to always have enough, but as I've looked closer at the people in the community,around me, it makes me even more grateful for the things I do have. I don't mean the people in middle class suburbia, but the lowest of the low class. The 'bums' the homeless, the people who usually don't get a second glance in the street. If you look closely, you can see traces of the lives they used to live. The gold bangle on the girl leaning up against the cheap hotel waiting for her next customer. The way she speaks with a slight east coast accent. The rare shade of dye in her hair. It suggests that she once enjoyed the luxuries of the upper class before being cast out, or running away. The dirty man sitting on the sidewalk with a guitar, busking for his next meal. At closer glance, he is holding a Gibson Les Paul, an $1,600 instrument. The only remnant of a carefree youth spent playing music before the band split up, and fame drifted away to nothing, leaving him stranded with only a guitar and a shattered dream.
Observing these people is heart wrenching, and moving. This is why I have chosen to live among them for a while. I packed a backpack and took to the streets for the summer. I am now writing this in an inner city homeless shelter. I needed a break from family, and I needed a new perspective. So I'm here. And I love it. These people are so open and so friendly know all the secrets of the city. Where to go hear the best music. To meet the coolest people. All the underground street dance clubs. Places to connect with people I would never have met had I continued to live in oblivion. And well I know that I can always go back and resume my life at any point in time, I have no desire to return any time soon. This is my life now, and I love it.

C'est La Vie.
Viva La Vida.
And Fuck the System.
Peace.
Signed, hot_tunes♪♫