i watched the color purple again today. so brilliant.
dave man.. u must see it.
& anyone else that hasn't seen it, come see me. we'll have a 'color purple' party.
i feel less pressed to write chronologically here these days. everything just seems to run together; nothing seems to happen that's important enough to report. everything's about getting this MLK stuff done when i'm awake & dreaming about my darling when im asleep. that's it. i'm not doing homework cause i wanna make sure this program is Right witta capital arruh. only time i see britt & candis is to get stuff for the program or to talk about the program. and lemme just say that candis has not been my favorite person lately. she gets in these moods, man, pissy ass moods that i can very much deal without.
anyway.
it seems like he's my only dream these days. i can't think of too much else to smile about so it makes sense that in my free time i travel back to him. we spend so much time together because i see him evrytime i close my eyes.
i tried writing about him last night & failed miserably. writing frustrates me, even now as i sit clickin these words out. so im gonna stop. but first ima bring it full circle & take it back to alice walker. read this excerpt from the script of the movie:
shug:
now tell me the truth, miss celie... do u mind if albert sleep with me?
celie:
...you like sleepin with him?
i have to confess--i love it. dont you?
no. most of the time i pretend like i aint there. he dont know the difference. he dont never ask me how i feel. dont ask me nuthin bout myself. just climb on toppa me and do his business.
"do his business?" why, miss celie, you sound like he goin to the toilet on you.
...that's what it feel like.
why, then, miss celie... that mean you still a virgin.
------------
mista didn't give a shit about celie. had no respect for her body other than the convenience of it being there. cared nothing for her mind, interests, nothing. celie's seen things i'll never have to see for which i am grateful--i may feel them, sure enough, plenny women may feel them, but the semi-fortunate ones will never have to live them like she lived them--and yet i still liken myself to her in some ways.
im sure lots of blk women can.
my first never raised a hand to me but he delivered some potentially fatal blows. he was sorta like mista. didn't care about my body's welfare.
but just like shug say...
without the willingness & respectability of love it was just a cold exchange of bodily fluid. i was still a virgin afterwards.
& in making love to my darling, he became my first.
