This was the first one. I just felt like writing after that day I had.

July 29th, 2009.
I think I lost some dignity today. Do I even know what the fuck dignity is? According to dictionary.com, it means “nobility or elevation of character.” I asked someone to use their car so I could go to the pawn shop so I could see when their hours where because I have somewhere around $7 in my account. She let me use her car. She wasn’t a stranger, by the way. But when I said it, and she said it was fine, I was thinking to myself how angry and embarrassed I am but very thankful. There are many people in this world that wouldn’t have done it. She mainly gave it to me because if she didn’t, I would have to be late to my internship and she is my boss. For some reason, I just felt lower when that happened. When I got in her car, all I could think about is how sick and fucking tired I am of having to do this; how taking favors and charities is going to be my story for a long time, maybe forever. Though, just the idea that I am now pawning things to get cash in my pockets to get by for the next 3 weeks is making me feel like a failure. Thinking that way just adds on to the other ways I am setting myself up for failure. I was thinking heavily, today about how it probably wasn’t smart for me to have chosen to take calculus at Simon’s Rock because I got a shitty grade taking pre calculus at Housatonic and I can’t afford to get that kind of grade in college. A fucking C+!! I know (or I hope), that in college, the situation will be different and I will be able to ask for help no matter what because I will have the time and I won’t need to be catching the bus for anything. My grades will be my main concern. I will join minimal clubs and activities for that purpose until I know what I can handle. I just feel like my economic status is controlling my life and it seems like every time someone throws me a bone, that person has significantly lighter skin than me and is much more privileged. Why does my life seem to fit the stereotype of the way People of Color and Caucasians are seen, economically, in the media and in history books(patriarchal and feminist)? I’m sick and fucking tired of seeing what I see and feeling what I feel that is associated with things I cannot change. I have to always wonder, would this have happened to me if I was white? I had to wonder that when I was walking down Main Street after field day last year, and a complete stranger, of color, youth, felt the need to grab my right breast as if it was something he knows and loves. In what kind of fucking world do I live in that someone would do that to me? I wouldn’t touch anybody that I don’t know in an inappropriate place without their permission. Why do I deserve this? I later found out he did it because his friend dared him. Also, he was younger than me and there was no doubt in my mind that I was at a completely different maturity level than him. WOULD HIS FRIEND HAVE DARED HIM IF I WAS WHITE!?!? (I am crying this out to anyone with ears) He didn’t know what he did to me. My way of thinking was somewhat empowered but still a little in denial. I was somewhat empowered with my vagina and with my skin and how it was interpreted. I thought I was a beast. I thought I was a monster. I sure as hell didn’t for the rest of that day. Funny thing is, I was with Ashley (my lesbian feminist Jesus) later that day. She of all people would understand how I felt. At that time, I wasn’t able to put it into words and I was still in shock pretty much. That was over a year ago. I still think about it every now and then. Whatever, I’m leaving this town soon anyway. All this is confusing because I have so many questions I want answered. I could make a list that will go to the end of the world. Why would any working class person vote republican? Why does my best friend, a white male, make me feel like shit by doing absolutely nothing? Why doesn’t my mother make enough money to buy name brand boxed cereal and several loaves of bread? Am I just one of those people that are naturally envious or materialistic? Do those exist? (Listening to Green Day “Sometimes I feel like I’m walking alone”) Unfortunately, I feel like having a male white best boyfriend just adds to the anger because I’m watching it happen right in front of me all the time versus from a distance on occasion. When it comes to him, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though, I wonder if I’m ever going to accept it as part of my life instead of thinking it’s some sort of way the universe + society is taking a dump on my face. My life of running for the bus, not having enough money for a drink when I buy food which means I need to remember to have a drink on me, asking someone to give me a ride, ALWAYS remembering my “thank you” afterwards, keeping a little bit of a friendship with someone because they have a car, finding unthinkable ways to get things for free, walking a lot, leaving home a lot, not willingly having human interaction and remembering to eat something so I am not tempted to buy something when I am out or watching someone buy something for me can be a routine but it gets old quick. I wouldn’t mind a change. I wouldn’t mind feeling like I have the power. A 17 year old, female bodied, queer appearing, American-Dominican, working class, minimally educated human with power? That doesn’t even make sense to me, unfortunately. And why doesn’t it make sense to me? It doesn’t make sense because society and socioeconomics and sociology molded my mind and nearly all Americans into thinking that something like this doesn’t exist, it never will, so don’t hope for it. There is no reason that I shouldn’t be able to picture someone like that in power. I want to know why this all started the way it did or molded into the way it did. Who came up with calling people with light skin white? Why did they take over entire races? Why wasn’t it the other way around? Have they had the power since the Stone Age? Was this lifestyle inevitable? Am I doomed for failure? I know people who would swear I’m not but their words mean nothing (sometimes) because I’m the one in my head and I’m the pilot of this vessel. I know what’s going down and staying up. What people see isn’t always there.