#finding me

[sincerelyveronica]

I have been invested since heard her voice say chapter 1. It’s been riveting and brutally honest. Each chapter has me going through so many emotions of anger and pain. I’m not done yet. But I need people to understand that black women deserve better. They deserve better in every form. I want to recognize and respect that because everything they’ve endured through society or family trauma, is unfair. Viola Davis goes in deep with her own story and it’s hard to hear. I will continue to hear their stories and appreciate them, uplift them, and love them. Please take the time to listen to these stories. There is always something to learn and respect. Black women are so beautiful and they will always be worthy of that and much more. I hope to finish this soon! It’s good read so far and I do recommend it.

[fundamentalcherrytree]

Just started Finding Me by Viola Davis.

Wow! It's so good and her writing really allows the reader the imagine the story.

[mycollectioncloud]

My Body, My Mind.

Sitting in a moment of relaxation My mind is quiet Body is warm Covered in the lightest layer of sweat

A nice pocket of air Envelopes my body And my mind rejoices In a quiet and subtle manner

With the body going From warm to perfectly cool Seems to light flame within me Making me feel alive

More than I have felt In the longest time For so long I was lost but now In this moment

I feel the most whole I have felt For the longest time As I've reconnected With a long lost friend

[professionalintrovert]

Memories are immortal. They’re deathless and precise. They have the power of giving you joy and perspective in hard times. Or, they can strangle you. Define you in a way that’s based more in other people’s tucked-up perceptions than truth.

Viola Davis, Finding Me 📖🌞🌳

IG: jeffreyreads

[tranquilbecoming]

Flicker

A shiver in the stillness,

Like fire that won't catch,

You’re the edge of a whisper

I could never quite grasp.

Waves fold into darkness,

Sighs the night never claims,

A dance of silent embers,

That quietly speaks my name.

But there, in the flicker,

A truth freshly known,

The heat that pulls me closer,

Is the burning flame openly being shown.

[midnitetears]

P.O.M (Peace Of Mind) #132

In the chaos of my mind, a storm brews wild,

Seeking peace from you, my heart defiled.

Words spill out, thoughts scattered, a desperate plea,

But your response leaves me adrift, lost at sea.

Yearning for solace, a gentle touch to calm the storm,

Instead, met with silence, emotions left to swarm.

With a heavy heart, I realize the truth unfurled,

The peace I seek from you, must come from my own world.

Alone in the darkness, I search for inner light,

Trying to mend the fragments, piece by piece, night by night.

Self-reliant, self-soothing, a balm for the restless soul,

Finding bits of peace and quiet, finally feeling whole.

Though the ache remains, a longing unfulfilled,

I gather strength within, my spirit stilled.

Embracing the journey of self-discovery, I find,

Peace of mind may elude, but within myself, it's defined.

Yours Faithfully🌻

[asteroidgalore]

Hecate (Asteroid 100) is who witnessed and helps Ceres (1)/Demeter(1108) look for her daughter Persephone (399)/Idunna (176)/Prosperina (26) using her two flaming brilliant torches throughout the night without avail.

One version of the Triple Moon Goddess is Hecate, Ceres and Persephrone/Kora.

[aisling-writes]

16. You're... Leaving

Time remaining: One week

“So, are you ready to go?”

You give a sheepish laughter and shrug, quickly looking elsewhere. The white chairs, the grey ceilings and the holy altar. Perhaps if they see that you’re distracted, they’ll get distracted too.

Eureka! It works.

The Aunty, clad in a heavy chiffon salwar- kameez, ruffles your hair and talks to the next, her long black hair swishing with her every dancing step.

You’ve evaded her and she’s forgotten you. But at what cost? To what extent?

A huge bubble of emotion threatens to spill, but you push it back inside and lock it under key. Not now, not yet. You’ll deal with it later.

Besides, you’ve always had a penchant for procrastination. If you can keep away from assignments and messy rooms, so can emotions wait.

Yes, later.

That sounds nice.

Time remaining: six days

“We have to meet up, man. You’re leaving in six days!”

Right.

Six days.

“Guys, think positively. Six whole days!” You exclaim. “That’s a whole lot of time!”

Your friends eye you suspiciously, as if they don’t believe you.

A small part of you agrees with their look.

Do you truly believe in that?

Right. No. Stuff the emotion back in. Deep inside.

Fake the happiness until it becomes real.

You pull them back inside, the whoosh of the door closing around you encloses you in a hug. A small thought threatens to pop up: This is probably the last time you’d be able to come to this store.

Stuff. It. Inside. Already.

You, instead choose to open the chips packet, the vinegar and salt smell overloading your senses.

See? This is good.

Denial works.

Time remaining: Five days.

“Chechi, I just have five more days left for camp! I’m so excited!”

You smile, genuinely happy for your sister and the fun that awaits her until your neurons fire up and make the connection.

Something bad unfurls in your stomach: A feeling that you’ve not yet experienced or heard of. It’s not jealousy, but a cousin of his perhaps?

You’re leaving for college the next day after your sister’s camp.

The camp she awaits  means it’s time for you to pack your bags and leave.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

You’re … leaving.

The something-feeling settles in your stomach, taking route.

Nope, Nope, Nope.

Get out already!

Divert.

“So Malu, what are your camp plans?,” you ask, waiting to hear her babble of talk that soothes you.

She spills out her words and it runs all around you,

You’re just not sure if you can handle your awaiting spill of emotions anymore.

Time remaining: Four days

Last night was a bust.

Your parents sentenced you back to your room again.

You’ve been sleeping with them for the past two days lying that you’re afraid of the ‘ghost’. Of course, the first day it was genuinely true. You felt like you’d never make it till sunrise and that a lady dressed in white with choppy hair truly awaited you outside your door, but the other two days were a lie.

You realized that you liked sleeping with them because…

You’re…

Leaving.

But that was the end of that thought. You didn’t let it go anywhere.

Instead, you happily slept under the comfort of the weighted blanket and the cold icy A/C air. Like old times. I’m still a kid again.

Until yesterday.

Dada’s backpains were kicking in and he needed a full bed back to himself so, logically, you were out.

You could swear that dada saw the disappointment in your eyes, but you just acted all nonchalant.

Because… ghost problem over, right?

Right.

Then why were your pillows wet the next day morning?

Time remaining: Three days

“You don’t want you brother to be there when you’re entering college the first time?”

What you really wanted to ask was ‘Please tell me it’s not only me who’s being overly emotional’.

“Nope. Let him suffer with his exams.” The girl with the long hair, your friend, answers. She has a cheeky twinkle in her eye, and you’re supposed to share the joke with her but, everything feels like a façade now.

You’ve been lying for too long, anyway.

To others.

To your friends.

To yourself.

What’s one more?

“Ha HA. I know right? Let my sister also suffer. Anyway, she’ll come to visit me in a month anyway!” The lie tumbles out easily.

The moment had so much potential. You finally could’ve spoken to someone, but-

No.

Time remaining: Two days

“I’m skipping the meeting tomorrow. My daughter’s leaving for college in two days, so I want to spend that time with her.” Your mother cuts the call and un-pauses the television. The show goes on and the moment of silence passes.

Two days.

You didn’t realize how fast time flies.

It feels just like yesterday when your examinations were over, and you were promised a sweet, blissful month of doing absolutely nothing.

Where did that go?

In fact, you’re angry now. A week full of choking back your feelings left no other vent other than anger. That seemed like the only feeling that was permitted without you exposing your weakness? (Who are you exposing it to? And what weakness?)

Where did that free month go?!

Time remaining: One day

A flurry of emotions.

Denial.

Stuff it back just like how you’re stuffing the bag with clothes and necessities.

You’re leaving.

The instructions.

“Call your grandma’s every day, okay?”

“I’m not a kid, you know Mama?” You laugh.

You’re leaving.

It’s evening.

 The sun has set and the yellow lights you absolutely hate (I think I love them now) illuminate the room.

An actor on the telly stabs the villain. Yay.

You’re leaving.

“How’s the food?”, Mama asks.

You wish to say it’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten but no. Lie. Lie through your teeth. “Eh, it’s fine.”

“Ha ha. You’re gonna wish you had this in your hostel.”

You’re leaving.

The clock chimes 10.

You’ve to sleep early to board the flight tomorrow.

You still have 8 more hours left. That’s a whole lot of time.

You’re leaving.

 You’re in your room, staring at the ceiling.

No ghost plagues you but only your feelings do.

It’s time.

Slowly, you let open the dam.

The unsaid words are whispered as a prayer. Your tears are your holy words.

 It rushes out.

 It threatens to spill, to pour, to ravage you.

You don’t know who you are without your family, your friends, your home, your church.

And you’re leaving them.

You’re leaving.

No.

No more denial.

You’re leaving.

Time remaining: Zero days

“This is the boarding call for Emirates flight EK563 travelling from Dubai to Bangalore.”

Part 16 of Finding Me

[fundamentalcherrytree]

I picked up two memoirs today. I got Finding Me by Viola Davis from the library. And From Here To The Great Unknown by Lisa Marie Presley and Riley Kenough was a purchase I happily made.

I can't wait to read these books! I'm for sure reading Finding Me next. Viola Davis is for sure my favourite actress from one of my favourite movies The Woman King.

[thoughtfulfangirling]

"We 'felt it was more important to tell the story than take the money.' I disagree. We would have taken the money. Being honorable is fantasy; survival, and how it brings out our nature, is human."

— Finding Me by Viola Davis

[socialbutterfly19]

Clear mind and recharging Get to focusing on you!!!

[carleylyonwrites]

Finding Me by Viola Davis

In her unforgettable memoir, Viola Davis offers a raw and unfiltered look at poverty, Hollywood, and how the arts empower us to find our voices.

⭐⭐⭐⭐/5

Viola Davis' memoir Finding Me is a harsh yet uplifting story that everyone — regardless of their race, ethnicity, socioeconomic background, or station in life — should read. In a voice that is uniquely her own, Davis offers a raw and humbling look at how poverty impacts children and families throughout the entirety of their lives, and for multiple generations. On a personal level, Davis’ story revealed to me just how often I make unfair assumptions about how and why poverty remains a cyclical, inescapable burden for many people. It is a story that subtly and without judgment urges readers to reckon with the parts of ourselves that allow those unfair ideas to persist. Furthermore, it encourages readers to begin the uncomfortable process of actively dismantling those ideas. 

In addition, Finding Me is also an inspiring account of how the arts — specifically, the performing arts — empower people to find themselves when they've lived their entire lives being pushed aside, oppressed, and rejected by others. Davis shines a much-needed light on the importance of arts educators in particular, recognizing that when they use their knowledge and authority to lift their students up, they can literally change those students' lives. Her own life was forever changed by an arts educator who urged her to pursue performance, and as she recounts that experience in this memoir, readers will undoubtedly find themselves reflecting on the selfless and compassionate educators who’ve made a difference in their own lives. 

Finally, Davis brings her story full-circle with a fascinating and brutally honest account of how the entertainment industry works. She examines its virtues, vices, and enduring biases. She details how she, a Black woman, achieved success in the face of an unjust system that historically alienates people who do not fit the industry's reductive definition of beauty. 

The writing style is informal and conversational in a way that occasionally makes it difficult to follow, and the timeline of the story often jumps ahead or rewinds in confusing and unexpected ways. However, in a way, this style of writing makes Davis’ story feel all the more intimate, like  we are reading pages straight from her own, personal, private diary. Finding Me is one of the most impactful memoirs I've read, and I'd recommend it to absolutely everyone. 

[quotesiread]

"I was always on the outside of Juilliard because I wasn't on the inside of me. I was fighting an ideology about what an actor was, and it was all born in the depth of white superiority. The notion of "the classics" being the basis for everything. Yet I was in the land of the classics. In Africa, there is the equivalent of every "classical" instrument known to man and it predates any European instrument. There was a "technical" proficiency attached to drumming, dance, music, storytelling. Why is it "limiting" to play Black characters but white actors are "versatile" playing white characterizers? Why do I have to be small, willowy, and lighter than a paper bag to be sexual? I'm playing a character. It's not porn. I was sold lies for two years and the worst part is that I believed it because I couldn't combat it with anything else."

[bornwithhornss]

27.4.23

my first poem, photograph combo 🗒️ 🖊️ 📸

if i am being completely honest, i am so pleased with the end result, it’s better than i could have imagined..

this is not the original poem i was going to share i had a sudden urge to write last night; and the outcome.. i believe is one of my best so far.

personally this is my emotional outlet

i was so nervous to post it purely because my poems are a piece of me.. I am never as vulnerable as i am when writing. i find it so intimate.. sharing my inner thoughts and feelings with complete strangers was such a foreign thing for me. some nights i sit in a constant battle over how open to be.. how much to share.. I’m aware this is a process and i am no longer entertaining the thought of toning back my writing or who i am.

I am so proud of the writing i produce; it’s raw, from the heart, but most importantly.. IT IS ME ✨

I will no longer tone back who i am for another, i am more than happy with the person I am, the love i give and stay true to myself.. i encourage every one else to do the same.

BE YOURSELF 🦋 there is no other like you, you are the perfect you.. and i feel that is something to be not only proud of.. but worth celebrating 🤍

i honestly never dreamed i would share anything, i never even planned to tell anyone about it in the beginning..

I have finally found my feet on this silly planet and am learning more each and every day about myself.. and the world around me. it is beautiful. I have worked so hard, day and night to find myself.

i am so proud

my first official poem, this being my first draft submission for the art show

©️ poem

[mikereads]

“Something magical happened. Suddenly, I saw her. I saw her. It was Miss Cicely Tyson in The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman. She had a long neck and was beautiful, dark-skinned, glistening with sweat, high cheek-bones, thick, full lips, and a clean, short afro.”

"I'm devastated. My heart is just broken. I loved you so much!! You were everything to me!"