So, I don’t know why I was thinking about this but while I was on the train on my way to work I suddenly thought about the “bodega” app that came out about 2 months ago. I know a lot of people were against it, and still are, and there were a handful of people for it. The first backlash I heard about it was from a podcast I listen to called “The Read” featuring Kid Fury and Crissle. After about a couple of days I started seeing post and videos on Facebook. Now from what I’ve read/ listened to/ and watched the people who are against it were discussing the culture behind an actual bodega and I completely understand, but I have my own reason for not supporting the app.

My main reason for being against the app (I hope it’s not making any business btw) is because, these bodegas are a source of income for the families running it. More than half of the time the people who are running the bodegas are parents and their children, with the occasional homeless cat that isn’t homeless because he kind of lives in the store. You take that away by creating a crappy app that delivers a box of generic items that you can simply go up the block for. 

Im going to go on a small rant. Once those bodegas stop getting frequent business, they cant make their rent and they eventually get evicted. Once they are evicted the space goes out for rent and some gentrified couple thinks that it will be a great place to open up a coffee shop because Starbucks is so mainstream, all they do is burn their coffee beans, and make sugary drinks. Once the gentrified couple gets approved for a loan and opens their coffee shop called “Beans”, the price of the neighborhood slowly goes up and the family that once owned the bodega cant afford rent and now gets kicked out. The gentrified couple finds it convenient that an apartment opened up close to their coffee shop and pays 2x what the previous family was paying in rent. They obviously cant afford the apartment on their own so they get some roommates and the gentrification process continues.

Now I dont know how we got to gentrification lol, but that is the scenario that plays out in mind with that bs of an app called Bodega.

I will try to make these blog post a weekly thing <3

“I was made to believe there’s something wrong with me, and it hurts my heart, Lord have mercy ain’t it plain to see  that this is a Cold War” Cold War, Janelle Monae

This is a free write so please bare with me on any grammar, spelling and or punctuation errors. Now, it’s amazing how this line affects me like it did when I was maybe 13/14 years old. I can’t remember exactly how old I was, but I know I was in high school. When I first heard that line I didn’t understand exactly what she was saying, but I knew I felt for lack of better words the pain that was being expressed. At the time I didn’t know if it was from low self esteem, or some sort of subconscious thing that will later become a conscious thought, but I knew that the line had a deeper meaning to it.

Here I am 22 years old and I still feel some sort of ambiguous feeling about the line. Not towards the line but towards myself. I’ve obviously grown mentally from 9 years ago and I am more aware of who I am, but I still question myself from time to time. I always feel I should be better than who I am but I don’t know where to start. I feel horrible for being out touch with things happening politically and socially with number 45, black people, and being a black woman. I wish I had more time and energy to do the things I want to do. This wont become some melodramatic blog post lol, but I hope that the couple of questions I’ve asked myself my current mental state. I am proud of who I am/ became but I want more I know I can provide more.

I’m going to write more, this feels nice. And I know I kind of ended this blog abruptly but *shrugs* there will be more. 

There we were. Young and free. Lovers who did as they
pleased. We did everything together. But managed to be our own. Remember that
one time we were able to travel all along Europe from just hitch hiking?
Remember when there were nights we wouldn’t get picked up and would have to
sleep on the roads? There was that one night I still remember like the back of
my hand. You turned around and looked at me and told me you loved me. This wasn’t
a normal I love you. You mounted me and said it again and again. I love you, I
love you. And that’s when you said those four god damn words. You stared at me,
waiting. I loved you so much so I uttered yes. I told you I wanted to be your
wife. We made love that night. You said it again, I love you, I love you. I’ve
never seen you so happy and full of life before. Breakfast. French. Love. Art.
Everything was me. Always around. Touching. Needing. Wanting. Day after day. I
hated it. You weren’t you anymore. So I left. I walked, I got into cars, I
walked. I cried. I screamed. I yelled. I grieved. The biggest mistake I made
was marrying you.