okay, but a thousand times YES

i have been spending the last 24 hours, in a state of total self-deprecating misery. a friend of mine just said, "gurl, you need to get your mojo back."

out of all the pep talks, all of the self-affirmations, all of the genuine, unrequested, comments about how "amazing" i am, all the janet jackson, velvet rope-era interviews - it is this that has sparked a little sruti back to life:

i remember watching this live on tv and being amazed

must spend more of my time feeling like this

preach.

On Regrets

"that sucks
i'm trying to write assignments for school
(lol)
and being really sad and self-destructive
(as usual)
why am i the worst lauren
do you know"

in a pre-emptive move, i shall respond to a question, that is only justifiably answerable, in two and a half day's time.

but what's it like being 23?



You know very well who you are
Don't let em hold you down, reach for the stars
You had a goal, but not that many
Cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty

on a more reflective level, here's a BENGALI, with a lovely cover of these very sentiments:

this is literally one of the greatest songs ever

i'd love to co-create an exhibition

in which ideologically heavy photographs are placed around the room.  people circulate the room looking at these pictures.  however, each picture would have a perfectly attuned song to listen to, while viewing the photo.  next to each photo, there would be a play button.  just look at my blogging credentials - i have mastered this mother fucking art.  (since 11, baby).

21st century love letters

Go harder than a nigga for a nigga go figure

Told me keep my own money if we ever did split up

How can somethin' so gangsta be so pretty in pictures?

Ripped jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers

Uh, Picasso was alive he woulda made her

That's right nigga Mona Lisa can't fade her

I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice

But why all the pretty icons always all white?

Put some colored girls in the MoMA

Half these broads ain’t got nothing on Willona

Don’t make me bring Thelma in it

Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it

Back to my Beyoncés

You deserve three stacks, word to Andre

Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in museums

You belong in vintage clothes crushing the whole building

You belong with niggas who used to be known for dope dealing

You too dope for any of those civilians

Now shoo children, stop looking at her tits

Get ya own dog, ya heard? That's my bitch

a reflection of july and september

artist: lucy mckenzie

good god can you imagine if this was happening in front of my face

crying pt II

i am crying

this is one of my/dad's favourite songs

people who say nothing in moments of frustration

are often praised for their ability to refrain from, "making a scene."

but passivity is so lame?

here is today's moral dilemma

how do we distinguish one-night stands, from sexual assault?  i like the answer found here.  but i can't help but think back to situations like this:

this scene is significantly relevant in our contemporary culture.  because, being drugged by someone who intends to sexually violate you, has not successfully been drilled out as disgusting, in many young men.

rape by definition is sex without consent.

this is all very clear to me, but there are grays here.  i understand that sex enforced on an individual, even after the individual has said no, is rape.  i understand that poisoning an individual, in order to sexually violate them is rape.  so from this understanding, how do we account for instances in which sex is experienced without consent, but without denial either.  i will give you a specific example.

girl X and boy Y are at a freshman party.  boy Y is trying to impress and flatter girl X, so he buys her lots of drinks.  in turn, both girl X and boy Y get very drunk.  boy and girl black out to the consequent events of the rest of that night.  fast forward to the morning after, where girl X wakes up naked next to boy Y, and they both see a broken condom on the ground.  the assumption would be they had sex - but remember, both girl X and both boy Y claim to have completely blacked out about the night before.  let's now assume, for the sake of this example, that both girl X and Y are telling the truth when they say they can't remember the goings on of the night before.

is this rape?  technically, sex was enacted without consent (or at least, possibly without consent, as there is no memory of the event happening) - or is this just another one-night stand?

i have spoken to many individuals about this in the past couple of days.  some demand that the girl take responsibility for her own actions - that no one "gets you" drunk, and that it is your responsibility to say no to alcohol.  others say, that irrespective of consent or not, the boy should know better than to sleep with a girl who is that visibly drunk.  but both response put the blame and responsibility of such an event on one or the other, when perhaps both are plausible reasons.

i think this is a gray area, because of the very definition of rape. and yes, in this current male dominated society, a respectful boy would have stopped the situation from happening.  but in this circumstance, how come he has more onus to have acted more "sober" in the situation, when he was just as drunk as the girl?

furthermore, one of the ways in which this situation could be justified from the claims of rape, is if we alter the story, by adding that boy x and y are in a longterm relationship. the term, "implied consent" allows for this situation without referring to it as an act of rape. but such an argument for "implied consent" suggests that being raped by your boyfriend or girlfriend, is technically not possible - when it very much is.

rape is a horrific act, and i do not intend to speak of it lightly.  but, i find there are inherent unequal gender dynamics at work in this situation.  and maybe there ought to be, given the realities of the society we currently live in.  but if we really aim for equality, than why is more responsibility given to the boy in this situation than the girl?  when we do this, i think we reaffirm a supposed "delicate" and "fragile" ideology that surrounds the concept of womanhood.  we also remove women of their own agency when it comes to being sexually liberated.  if the situation were reversed and the woman had spent the entire evening buying the boy drinks, with the intention of bringing him back to his place, and again, the morning after, they woke up to the same situation, the boy would never claim rape!  and yet, there was no technical consent for sex in that situation as well.

and if the definition of rape stands in that situation - then it can be claimed for every instance of one-night sexual experience.  and these things, these one-night stands are incredibly common aspects of our society - so should every hung-over woman claim rape?  should none?  both questions sound absolutely ridiculous - and yet, by virtue of the very definition of rape - they are questions that can be posed, and are worthy of investigation.

still on self-perception vs the perception of others

today i ran into a woman i greatly admire, and she repeatedly commented on how pretty she thought i looked. i thought she was being polite. but then she said, "i like your eyeshadow. your eyes are pretty."

i wasn't wearing eyeshadow.

Murder to Excellence

Big Baby

I don't like being the same person as somebody else.  Some people adore this, to the point of searching for it.  Most friendships, and relationships, are based on the aim, and assumption, that the two individuals interacting hold the same values and ways of thinking.  Even I pride my friendships, by saying things like, "We're the same, I love you."  This is because we all feel alone and look for solidarity in our ways of perceiving the world.  So yes, that is a nice feeling.  But I hate feeling like people don't learn from, but rather, absorb from me.  To me, it feels very - teenage high school girls' best friends buys the same prom dress, (and yes, that has happened to me).  I earn for debate, and challenges, (and smart challenges, because it's hard to convince me otherwise).

There are a handful of friends I can think of, who frustrate me in our different perceptions of the world. And they are my favourite, favourite, favourite, people to talk to.  We debate, and challenge each other, and don't always come to the same conclusions, but admire each other's perception.  How can you learn to respect your own, if you don't let it stand against other perceptions?

Be your own person, baby.


Be.



Your.



Own.



Person.




you big,



Baby.

I've been thinking a lot about self-perception lately.

And the way in which one assumes that the ways in which they perceive themselves, is the same way in which others perceive them.  I spend so much of my academic time talking about context and subjectivity, and yet when it comes to this real-life concept, I am at a loss.  I totally forget that every individual has a different experience of their identity, irrespective of those they are surrounded by.  This is the root of rejection - this is the root of failure, this is the root of most self-absorbed thought.

Moreover, it's so not constructive.

In the past couple of days, I have fucked with self-perception.  Or rather, self-perception has fucked with me.  I have had two individuals in my life challenge my own understanding of myself.  The first was an old (male) friend, who shared that he always felt that I gave off a personality that suggested confidence, independence, and a sort of indifference to being single, in this modern society.  Anyone who takes the time to get to know me, and have in-depth conversations with me, will know that these are the very subjects I am anxious, and obsessive about.  So this perception that was presented to me - it blew my fucking mind!

I then told this story to another individual whom I have only known for the past two months, let's say.  This individual then asked permission to be frank, which I always wholeheartedly welcome, and she (I should note, that she is much older than I, a pregnant woman, at that) told me, that she felt the exact same way.  She told me I challenged her, that I spoke analytically and thoughtfully, and that she would have to guess I was much older than I actually am.

And challenging self-perception can work both ways.  Fortunately for me, it arose in a positive light - but perhaps those who feel entitled, and confidence, are perceived as the complete opposite.  I mean, that is completely possible as well.

The point is man is not what man understands himself to be.

going to try blogging, like a good ole fashioned online diary

force myself to get critical, or at least observational about my life. 
because i needed to do more of that?

hahahahaha.

after the horrendous week at work, i have to say, i think i finally did something right.  i made a conscious decision to cut off hours from my availability at work, in an effort to prolong, or at least help cultivate, personal happiness.  because retail eats your soul, and i already have a messy one as is.  this was a tough decision because i am permanently in uncomfortable financial situations (moreover, i would really like to be able to afford to pack up my bags and go places, more often) - and in an effort to relieve that permanent strain in my life, i try to work as many hours as i can.  this never affects school - my apathy is what affects school, but when i kick into it, i'm pretty great at time management.  but it does affect my mental sanity, because... did i mention, retail eats souls?  it's like a shel silverstein monster.  just gobbles you up whole.

so, i gave away my shift today, and, as it turns out - i had a pretty great day.

woke up for my early, singular class of the day, within which, i had productive conversations and thoughts.  we discussed utopian ideals of the internet, that suggest a type of "color-blindness" in the digital age, and the role of feminism with respect to the concept of masculinity.  basic university stuff.  but it was fun - and i got to tell the class that if no one in the room was watching Louie, they should be, because it was the greatest show on television, currently.

i have no idea if i managed to impress, or depress my professor, as is the usual case.  but again, can't read the minds of others, and hope someday, somewhere, someone will want to write me a recommendation later.  i read hip-hop (yes, read) so i know - i gotta do me, and that's all.

ran into S at the coffee shop, chatted for a bit.  bought a stack of magazines, i used to read obsessively four years ago, and re-discovered exactly why.  feeling inspired to write now, which is good, because i owe some people some promises.

and now, i wait for my mom to get home, because we may or may not only have one key to the apartment - after which, i'm gonna join A for Tea, and that will definitely be good, and will definitely inspire me, because we have really good conversations.

So, see?  Good day.  I predict good week too, as I only have to return to work Thursday morning, and I plan on attending the crap out of the International Black Film Festival in Montreal.  And reading.  And writing.  And being.

I officially like my hair-cut.

okay, but we tried to end things yesterday

and then he had to go and earn my respect, after losing it, by saying the following:

"you know what's great about Beyonce? she doesn't sing songs about shitty men, she sing songs about shitty people, and shitty RELATIONSHIPS. her songs are both for men AND women."

today in class, we talked about how a world needs to form, before we can inhabit it, and start the act of living

8 years after discovering my favourite band, I can finally relate to this song:

come to think of it, i saw a fox on the train the other day.

What is it you most desire?

“As someone who was exposed to Catholicism, I say one desires salvation because salvation is everything. Of course. And one desires a final answer, a meaning that contains with finality the naturalness and unnaturalness of the world in a never-to-be-corrected statement. One desires peace, tenderness, intelligence, fame perhaps, and to have been brave and to have done good work - and perhaps to have astounded the world. One desires love in various forms. One desires a naked world of love to replace the one of lonely dailiness, a world which has a heat of emotion and genital heat, and such warm, shocked brightness spreading through it that it might as well be Hell.” — from Profane Friendship by Harold Brodkey

australian dream

had the most alarming dream. in it, for whatever reason, i took an impromptu trip to australia, and for whatever reason, it was easy enough getting there, involving a 5 hour plane ride. i left in the morning, and didn't tell my parents a thing - when i arrived, i got lost in a suburb, where two hipster-esque girls tried to help me. they said london was a fifteen minute walk. then i freaked out, cause i realized, i had no way of getting back home. tried to hail a cab, only to find myself standing infront of a mosque. a muslim man then helped me, and guided me to some sort of island / water slide park, where-in, i ran into my mother, who was having the time of her life. we laughed and swam, and she gave me her credit card, and i said, "moooooom" and she said, "i worry!" and then i took the 5 hour plane ride back home, and no one was none the wiser.