blogs...I feel connected to them because I too fall for the wrong
guy/get my heart broken/love black and white romance films. I also like
the anonymity. One of my readers stumbled onto my fb page. One is
Afroman. Maybe others know who I am/what I look like...but for the
others I am a green page. I like that. On the train, there stood a man
with a peculiar tattoo on his wrist. And when he held the pole, he had
another armband tattoo. At first glance, he looked like another black
professional fighting glass ceilings but then I stared at the wrist
tattoo and I have the same one. Gye nyame. God is supreme. It had me
thinking about what that means. About what I thought it meant. It was
supposed to give me hope and it confuses me because I question whether
or not there is a god or God. I remember raising my hand in protest when
my Jewish English teacher wrote god without a capital 'G'. I was
outraged OUTRAGED. And now my heart only mldly flutters...
Time and maturity are a trip.
But, I've gone away from the point. Looking at my tattoo on a stranger's
wrist makes me feel like we're in on something a lot of people don't
know. Ghanaians have a series of symbols that mean certain things that
they use on clothes and young people graffiti on walls? And maybe his
tattoo's meaning has morphed into something different. And maybe its
just always nice to know that you can look at someone and go. Me too.
By reading their blog.
Or looking iinto their eyes
Or by suspiciously staring at their wrist.
You can go...me too.
Me too.
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