Ngala-Najla

I Celebrate Myself…


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Cosmic Love

How was your Christmas? How was your Boxing Day? How is your Kwanzaa? Lol.

I have been surrounded by and engrossed in music this weekend. I watched the two seasons of Glee. I am officially a GLEEK. And I am now obsessed with Florence + the Machine. I have been dancing to the song “Dog Days Are Over” over and over again in my room (been cooped up in the house due to the blizzard). It’s now my official theme song for 2011…or at least for January! However, right now, pulsating on my ear drums is Cosmic Love. Dramatic…gotta love it.


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Snip!

I cut off my locs almost two weeks ago. It was time. That’s all I can say. For seven years (maybe a little more or a little less) I had locs and they were with me through tremondous growth. For some time now I felt detached from them and during meditation the need to cut my locs constantly emerged and so I listened…eventually.
Seven years of love, truth, lies, heartbreaks and redemption. I look forward to what the future holds and see this as another opportunity for a new start.


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Void

As I sat down at Whole Foods Union Square, I immediately felt this immense guilt. I have been spending money like crazy, although I should be moving more to the land of the frugal. I needed a pair of shoes and so I bought it. Of all the things that I bought today that was the only thing I needed. The other things that I bought came from me wanting to be liked (the almost $60 worth of products at Aveda although I went in just to buy one product for $25; the book from an independent bookstore because I was the only one in the store and I meandered for some time while chatting it up with the owner — I didn’t want to waste his time). Then there was the money that I spent when I went into Duane Reade to buy a band aid because my new shoes was rubbing against the back of my foot…so, the planned $1.99 turned into the unplanned $10.72 expense. What the F is wrong with me?!

A Poem:
I am seeking something to fill a void I do not understand
In pastas ladened with alfredo sauce and gossiped filled words in tabloid magazines
In books in the corner of empty bookstores
And crowded restaurants.

Not one extreme action conquers this pain
Not a shaven head
Nor a mind stilled by meditation

The ache of missing you
Is mired in laughter and sarcastic rebuttals
For I am afraid to admit the loneliness of not knowing where you are
Not being able to share moments of silence and robust joy.

I long for the day to meet you again
You, the distant stranger
To greet you at my door
To look at you in the mirror and say welcome home.