Confessions From A Black Rose

Every once in awhile I like to sprinkle my blog with music that I love. Since the holidays are on the way and I'm in a giving mood today is a perfect day to do so. Before I became a Backstreet Boys fan, I was a huge Spice Girls fan. I had my  platform shoes and was throwing peace signs on all of my pictures. They were an awesome group and I'm not ashamed to admit that I still listen to them today.  Here is a video from one of my favorites songs by them. Get ready to be transported to the awesomeness that was the 90's.

Recently I have been thinking about transphobia. I realize that is not the most common thought to plague ones mind but here I am. There are so many thoughts swimming in my head right now that I'm a bit conflicted about what I want to say. This is a topic that is very dear to me and I want to get my point across effectively. I entitled this blog post as Understanding Transphobia because it is something that continues to baffle me. Apart of me understands it on a societal level but in principle it makes no sense. Growing up I was not exposed to anything dealing with the LGBT community. Transgender was a term that I knew absolutely nothing about and when I did know the stereotypes were disheartening. In the media a trans person is always something of a punch line. There is no space for them to be perceived as humans with dreams, ambitions and most importantly desires. They are just "things" for people to marvel out and laugh at. What is it about transgender women and men tha

Dear Tree of Life, I came to you as your reluctant servant. How many years have we played this game of submission and resistance? How many years have I fought to be free from the black hole you have enclosed me in? How many scars I have I endured? With each passing hour I feel your vines tightening around my wrists constricting my every movement. With each passing hour I feel your branches tapping against my skull. There is no life here where you have constrained me. All that I have loved has long vanished. I feel that if you do not release me I will be consumed by the pit of despair that has taken all that I have cherished in this world. I came to your now as your reluctant servant, begging for my freedom. One way or another I shall crawl up this hole and claim the life you have longed denied me.

I admit that I have been a bit of a Debbie Downer on my blog lately but life happens and sometimes you need to vent a little bit. This post will be on a lighter note because my brain is completely fried from the awesomeness of the incredible episode of Dexter last night. I will not spoil it for those poor souls who were not able to watch the episode but it was a-ma-zing!!! The last ten seconds of the episode I was literally bouncing off the walls. I have thoroughly been enjoying season 6 of Dexter  but after last night clifftastic( new word, you like) episode I feel that I am going to be throwing fits of joy every episode. In comparison to previous seasons, season six is only behind season one and season four in my book. Up until last night's episode it was trailing behind season two. If they continue to go in this direction, it could be as good as the first and fourth seasons. Besides Dexter there have been a few other shows that have been making me fangirl like crazy. The W

Over the past three months I have been reevaluating my life. I have been forced to think about what I have been doing with myself? What do I like about my life and what I absolutely despise about my life. Being a not so recent college graduate everyone wants to know what I have been doing with myself since the tassels and the diploma.  How can you condense the past two years of "real" life experience into a few sentences without boring or scaring off the other party? The truth is they do not really care about all you been through they just want a synopsis to go on with their lives. I feel like a lot of things have happened to me as oppose to me making things happen for myself. Honestly these past five years I have been given grenade full of shit with the expectation of turning it into masterpiece. The grenade is still in my hands but I am ready to let go of it. Throw it far away from me where I can witness its destruction miles away. Someone once told me that there is a calm