Still I wait
Thursday night was awesome. It was the showcase of the Poetic Soul Event in Los Angeles. The event was canceled last week and I was a bit salty, but at least they rescheduled. They tour all around the country and L.A. was one of their stops. I want to say that they are stationed in Phoenix, Arizona. It's a group of poets hosted by many. The event catered around one specific artist name Just Mike the Poet. He was dope as hell. I had the pleasure of listening to two hosts poems that night and I am happy I did. The most memorable was a woman that's a spoken word artist. Like, she does this shit! Her name was Shay.
Her voice was loud and strong, and she carried herself in a way where all of her energy was felt. A smart, confident, Black woman she was; who wore her hair in a curly fro and a Blue's Brother hat. She may have been small in stature, but her vocabulary was as fluent as her stride. My favorite poem she presented was called "A Bad Bitch." She hit the crowd with facts that they are too many "bad bitches" and not enough women. This is a well-known stigma boiling itself in the black community. Women are changing the gifts God has given them for something so generic and plastic. But we all know with this sort of attention comes a new attitude, right. Women think they must become colder by the heart than they are to seem to the outside world, that they respect themselves. Or in lack of better words, to prove that she just doesn't give a f*#@! She told her story of going that route and how matters weren't as they seem. She thought she was finding herself, but, she became even more disoriented. The woman she was supposed to be was becoming more distant than she thought. So, through strength and prayer, she changed her ways. Now, she a talented spoken word artist traveling the country with Poetic Soul. I'm going to put her performance up on my Instagram page. It may be dark, but her voice can be heard.
But in other news, I am beginning to feel very anxious. I went to see two apartments; one in Los Angeles and the other in Inglewood. The L.A. apartment, of course, capped at my budget. The outside of the building didn't look like much, but once inside I thought I was in one of those love movies, where the girl lived in an old, spacious apartment and knew everyone in the building because she lived there so long. Then she meets a guy on another floor and they get to know one another and fall in love? Yeah, something like that. The hallways were long, and the staircases were big and wide. The light shining through the high boxed windows made it feel as if it were a quarter to six in the evening. The atmosphere was very calm, but what killed me was the stairs.
Like I said before, the steps were wide and long, but they weren't steep. They were at a slanted angle to make it easier for one to walk up. However, they were still so many stairs…and I was on the top floor. That was problem number one, no elevator. Next, we get into the apartment and I must've forgotten how a studio is set up. Literally, everything is right there in front of you; there's just this big room with a bathroom and kitchen. For someone starting out, like me, that's all you need for real. Everything is new, which was a good thing: new kitchen, new bathroom, new flooring, and new appliances. It was a cute little apartment and I could see myself in it. Now, for the second problem, was the rent. The price was fifty dollars over budget and my first thought was, "of course! I mean in it is L.A.!" I was a bit salty. After viewing the apartment, I completely just dismissed it because it was over budget and I knew I was going to find something better.
A few days have gone by and it was time to see another apartment. This time, it was closer to my job, so I thought for sure it was going to be cool. I get there, show up an hour and a half early. I end of falling asleep in my hot car as the sun was beating on my lap. Mind you, I had on black pants, so I was burning up. Finally, the landlady pulled up to the apartment and I was happy to see that she as a sis. I was like, "Okay! This could be the one!" Anyway, I walked with her around the back, up the stairs to the apartment. I was welcomed with a large patio in front of my door. Which I later found out it wasn't all mine. Walking into the apartment after her, I instantly get turned off because how little the room was. I know it was a studio and all, but damn. It was so small it looks as if only a bed could fit inside. The kitchen and bathroom were bigger than usual for a studio, I think that's why the damn rent was so high.
Consider that I applied to so many places, I couldn't remember which rent, was what. So, when she told me that the rent for that place was ninety-five dollars over my budget, I nearly fucking lost it. I'm like, "For this shit?!" But I see why she priced it so high. The kitchen and the bathroom were big and the area was up and coming. It was just too good to be true. The neighborhood was nicer compared to the L.A. apartment. That's it. Everything else, she could have kept. I am big on bathrooms, so that did impress me, but that room though. Completely turned me off. I didn't care at that point. I began weighing my options of which apartment I wanted to get. Even though I am trying my best not to think negatively, I can't ignore my body. It's aching all the time and I am always tired. Legs and feet still are swollen from not getting enough elevation. My mind may have strayed from negative energy, but my body was in constant reminder of neglect. I returned to my car and sat there talking to my mother. I could feel myself getting frustrated not because of her, but out of impatience. "It's going to be alright, Tricia. It's going to be alright" kept running through my head. I knew it was going to be alright. There's no doubt about it. But how long am I going to live in my car? How much inconsistency does my body have to endure before it finally relaxes? There are troubles going on that I do not speak on because I feel that it's not necessary. Just know this shit is hard. It took me a few days, but I asked the manager for the L.A. apartment to come down on the price to meet me at my budget. He left me a message the next day saying he could if I could move in October 1st. I said hell yeah! That's one more week and a half. All I need to do now is fill out the application online and send it in! I'm sure I am to get it. I'm so ready to purposely put a smile across my face. As of right now, I got a hotel room for the weekend. It's not much of a looker, but shit, I'll take it. Anything to get my feet up.
I am mentally and physically at a battle with myself. I don't know whether to give up and live in my car because it's cheaper, or keep looking, you know; because now I see why people live in their cars. The rent here, in one of the most prosperous cities, is overpriced for many of its' areas. Not trying to complain because I am trying to make my mark here and I need to be here, but it's so irritating. I'm doing this alone. I am alone out here (might as well say). Nevertheless, this is what I chose. We'll see where I am next week. As always…
Stay Positive. Stay Focused. Vibrate Higher.