Love Poetry Jam

Was cool. I didn't win the contest (would have liked the money, I can't deny) but the most important things were that:

1. I finally wrote some original poetry again after 10 years (got scared and intimidated, the more time passed between pieces, the suckier I feared I was)
2. I finally performed some spoken word in front of an audience after 10 years (same story as above)
3. I got to say something that was true and honest about how I'm living, and what I feel about love, and my experience of it, which was somewhat cathartic in that I needed to process what had gone down
4. People enjoyed and appreciated both my content and my delivery.

Of course, I didn't particularly enjoy my delivery, I was absolutely petrified, my knees were shaking, I felt naked in front of all those people and was on the verge of nervous collapse after having bared my soul and my pain to a room of 150 people. I went outside and cried for ten minutes, nearly threw up, but ten minutes later nearly passed out on the way home, and then ate a huge bowl of black bean soup, two protein bars, six slices of toast, a bagel with cheese and a bacon cheesburger. I don't like feeling rejected and worthless and fearful of the future: will anyone get to really know me and love me? Then how come no man has yet? Am I really such an emotionally poisonous person? Would I be doing the world a public service if I stayed single and refused to procreate? Actually, has any man ever really seen who I am?

Why do I care or want or need a man to love me that way? Why can't love for myself be sufficient? I don't want to have a big, gaping sinkhole in my heart and expect someone else to fill it. No one else can fill it. I need to start with loving myself (for the right reasons) and reinforce it with my faith.

I also need to do my homework and correct some student journals and memorize my lines for Thursday and learn two songs for rehearsal tonight (which I may very well back out of) and...never mind, the list is too daunting. I'd better get on that right away then. Right after I go to the bathroom, of course. And maybe get a bite to eat. (Hmm, could be the beginnings of yet another Procrastination Extravaganza!)

Oh, and if y'all want to hear me sing with the Funk Defenders again, check us out at 1221 Crescent Street this Thursday at 11. That is all.