I have a question, so I raise my hand. Because there is no one else around, I put my hand down before I can receive an answer. But, I did have time to ask the question. So, from where will the answer to this question come?
I look left and see a field. To the right is a forest, but I can’t see very far in, because the trees are in the way. The road that stretches before my tires is gravel, but I don’t have time to slow. Top down, warm wind blowing through my hair—yeah, whatever… All the freedom of the open road sandwiched between two backgrounds.
Of course screaming does no good, but it feels invigorating to empty the lungs, refill them and press them out again. Medulla-oblongata parallel with the roof of my mouth. At least the annoying echo of the noise streaming into my ears and rattling around before piercing the drum lets me know that I can still feel something. And that thought alone is at least a constellation.
When I finally get there, everyone is there. Not just everyone, but everyone and there mother. Let me tell you she is one big mother. She has to be in order to have birthed all of them, and me besides. Her belly is very round. She notices me looking at it. “Everything is circular,” she says.
They thanked me, which took a long time, because though they would have liked to speak all at once, I know they secretly didn’t think I could handle it—maybe rightfully so.
As I walk towards the podium my heart starts pounding. My forehead perspires. My face reddens. The lights on the stage pour all around me, culminating on my red sweat drenched face.
To lighten the mood, someone yells from the crowd, “Show us your tits.” But I decline. It would be delightful, although there are much more important things at hand.
Many times there is a point in a dream when I realize, that I am, in fact, dreaming.
I ask the audience to close their eyes. “But only if you feel comfortable about it,” I add. Most of them do. I ask them to, “imagine that it is them who are dreaming.” “Relax,” I say, wondering whether my nervousness will project out and hinder their ability to effectively relax. Luckily, at least some of them are trusting. “Imagine that every time I say, me, it is you that is me.” Whenever I say I, it is you that is I. Completely forget about fact that I am a twelve year old black girl, and that you are you, who you are.”
Now this one is just for practice… Close your eyes. Take a deep breath of enlivening air. Keep those eyes closed now, no cheating. Stand up. Raise your left hand above your head. Pause. Now look around. Pause. Ok now sit. And open your eyes.
Now we will begin. Close your eyes, take a deep breath of enlivening air…let it out….stand up…..
I have a question, so I raise my hand. Because there is no one else around, I put my hand down before I can receive an answer.