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Today, I got to spend time with the love of my life, who never fails to tell me on a regular basis that he loves me. He makes me happy, because he genuinely cares about me as a person. He goes out of his way to make sure I have what I need.

He is the first and only man I’ve met that I WANT to get married to.

I lucked out.

Purple dresses for rainy days.

Purple dresses for rainy days.

Good news. I’ve lost weight. Wasn’t really trying to, so thumbs up.

I found out today that a great friend of mine from University had a heart attack and died. I’m still in shock. He was younger than I am.

I will always remember him as someone who always made me smile, made me break out in laughter. He was a talented filmmaker, musician, clown, person.

The first time we met, actually, was when my theatre professor wanted to put together an improv team for the incoming freshman. The guy and I answered his call, amongst others. During rehearsals, he coined the name “Angel Face” for me. For the actual performance, he was on my team, the Autobots. I remember doing Slideshow, and me giving the explanations of each of the “pictures”. He was my brother.

How true that was.

Every time he saw me after, he called me Angel Face. And he was one of my honey children.

Well, my beautiful honey child, this Angel Face is looking up at your angel face. Love and miss you, baby boy.

I have black circles under my eyes, which are red. My lips are chapped, my skin is dehydrated and looks like shit, and I severely need a face wax.

But I still look good, motherfuckers.

I have black circles under my eyes, which are red. My lips are chapped, my skin is dehydrated and looks like shit, and I severely need a face wax.

But I still look good, motherfuckers.

I kissed a boy today.

And I liked it.

I’m so glad I came back to Jamaica.

I get to witness firsthand the horrible harassment women go through at the hands of Jamaican men.

I get to hear the willful ignorance people have about religion, class, and race.

I get to see the homophobia within my family and how silent I have to be to protect my own self.

I get to experience the sexism of simply saying hi to a man.

I get to see how unwilling people are to better themselves, financially, intellectually, etc.

It doesn’t change the fact that I love Jamaica more than life itself. It doesn’t change how important it is to my heart, my soul.

It does make me realize that I don’t want to spend my life here.

I understand, more than I did before, why people are one of the biggest exports of this tiny island.

There is absolutely no room for growth in any format, individually or as a country. What else is there to do but leave?

You know the drought here is getting serious when: schools are talking about asking parents to send water with students to help flush toilets.

Yep. This guy is getting a lesson on “Don’t Fuck With Me Cuz You Can Fuck Right Off”.

He told me he wasn’t interested in me like he said, but he wanted to be friends with benefits. He told me I had a week to give it up to him or he would never talk to me ever again. I laughed because, who the hell do you think you are?

Looking at the whole thing, I’m so bored with the game act. Like. Do you really need to pretend to be someone’s friend just to get into their pants?

Speaking from experience:

(TW: suicide, depression)

Things do get better, if not literally, then emotionally at the very least.

And when it does, there’s a certain pride that you have that you could ever climb out of that valley. By your own fucking self. And when you look back down into that valley, you wonder how the hell you let yourself get there in the first place.

But that doesn’t give anyone the fucking right to belittle or invalidate people for being depressed or attempting/committing suicide. Don’t judge anyone for something you’ve never experienced before in your life.

And if you’ve been there, and you turn around and give people shit for not being where you are now:


Depressed people don’t CHOOSE to be depressed.

Suicidal people don’t CHOOSE to be suicidal.

We would give our lives to not feel what we’re feeling.

Which we do.

Suicide is not selfish. Or stupid.

Suicide is a means to a very hopeless end.

And even though, in the back of our minds, we know that things might get better, there’s no guarantee.

Not until things ARE actually better.

You want to help someone who is depressed/suicidal?

Show them that they’re worth it. Telling them might not be enough.

Find their strengths and help promote that. Get them more involved in the things they love.

In a world full of ugliness, we need to throw focus on the beauty.

And when you show us that you love us with all our flaws, then slowly, we will learn to love ourselves despite them.

I’m hot, annoyed, stressed, in pain, hungry, nauseous, thirsty, tired, and weepy.

This is the life.

Sometimes I just want to lie down with my head on his chest and his arms around me, and talk.

That’s it.

A pro about Jamaica: guys are a lot more open about being physical without being attached.

Which I like.

I don’t want a man.

But I want a man every once in a while.

The hardest thing about being in Jamaica right now is the homophobic remarks. Even in my own family.

It just kills me a little each time I hear one.

And there really is no where for me to walk away to.

At least in America, people were concerned enough about being politically correct that you could shut them up.

I still love my country, but…


I met this guy. I like him a lot.

But. I think the relationship is going the physical route, not the emotional. Which is fine. I enjoy those kinds of relationships, and I do well with not getting emotionally dependent.

Except I was stupid enough to fall for the guy.

Damn it!

Jamaican. Theatre Artist. Reader. Lover of Elephants & Viggo Mortensen.