pasty

so on tuesday night i went with craig & kara + brad & jamaica to bowery poetry where mindy nettifee (check her out, she's seriously incredible (http://www.thecultofmindy.com/) was the feature poet - but was accompanied by many local artists. the evening was wrapped up with a poetry slam and we all had so much fun. brad and jamaica kept encouraging me to partake sometime in the near future. and to them i say who knows what the future holds. this time two years ago i had no idea i'd be sitting in an apartment - new york city being my home. so i'll never say never.

anyways - there were some GREAT guys and gals who were both skilled with poetry and spoken word. i loved hearing people be so open with their hearts in a room full of complete strangers and a lot of booze. and perhaps i would be more willing to pour my soul out onto a group of people i don't know who are holding whiskey...

i noticed that the two main struggles in nearly every piece someone presented were pertaining to: being brokenhearted at some point (from their mom or dad, family, brother or sister, boyfriend or girlfriend, etc..); and such emotion was centered around the race they were.

by the end of the night i couldn't help but look at my pasty skin and almost feel guilty over the lack of pain it's caused me. i live in a neighborhood where being white is not the norm. and i love it. but i feel ashamed that i don't know hardly anything about my heritage. i feel annoyed that just because my skin is completely unaffected by the sun, i have been completely ignored. blessed, but annoyed at the same time. that my neighbors (literally) have been treated like crap for no reason.

in one of brett dennen's songs he says:
'i wonder how so many can be in so much pain,
while others don't seem to feel a thing.
then i curse my whiteness
and i get so damn depressed.
in a world of suffering,
why should i be so blessed?'

i hate that for these people, their coloring has been a source of pain for them. i think about the pain and joy that pushes me to write and sometimes i can shut my eyes and feel like i am put right back into the situations that either made me feel sick to my stomach - or smile uncontrollably.. i just can't imagine the way i look ever having anything to do with that.

what makes you do what you do?