Quote of the Day

"Harry: I tell you, it is not me you are looking at, Not me you are grinning at, not me your confidential looks Incriminate, but that other person, if person, You thought I was: let your necrophily Feed upon that carcase..."
T.S.Elliot, Family Reunion

This quote comes from a book that I am currently reading entitled, "Invisible Man" by Ralph Ellis.

Incriminate - accuse or charge with
Necrophily (Necrophilia) - the state of having sexual desires of a carcase
(Necrophilic) - a person who sleeps with the dead

When I first read that, I felt it was so deep, and personal. And I take nothing from that book or quote at all, because truly it is awesome and fits right into the plot of the story.

However, after going to a popular restaurant in my city, and seeing old classmates I haven't seen in years, I felt like Harry. There was not a shortage of supply of hugs, or old sentiments. It's just, I confess, not one person in the place could say they really knew me. They knew my name, loved my new look, but searched for words to say or only thought about approaching me. I am known as the "too quiet girl." And even that night as my body was there waiting for a food order, my mind was far from that restaurant. I didn't mind going threw the motions of showing somewhat renewed acquaintanceship, or even half heartedly smiling at the creepiest stares of a local drunk. I accepted their memories of the goody two shoed, very intelligent, always got my head in a book girl, that I never was. Just as those who looked at the body that they thought Harry was, they had no clue that it wasn't me. Yet they seemed to cling to their preconceived assumptions. "Oh you're that very smart girl that graduated with honors!" or my favorite, "I never thought you would grow up, have sex, and have kids...you were too innocent." The one person who does know me, could only tell you that this was farther from the truth.

I would've done much better in school if I tried. Yes, I graduated with honors, but that was not my main goal. And the idea that I would never grow up and do things that others my age did, is just ludacris. But people take what little they know about someone and make it seem like they had a close relationship with that person. I can only feel the laughter inside Harry, as he said those words and thought of how they clung and seem to have been in love with the thought of knowing a carcase that was long ago discarded...Or was never even his.

I went home and sat and thought about my quiet life. Remembering that it wasn't that I didn't want to talk, or was too afraid to fit it, but because of an upbringing of being forgotten. Three of my oldest sisters never really took the time to talk to me, only ordered me to get out of the way. My mother always worked two jobs that I can remember and was never emotionally there. And my father, in an easier explaination, had other interest. Therefore, when I finally got along with my sibling closest in age, we both had our own love of solitude. We both grew up in a full house with lots of neices and nephews added later, but honestly, we were never fully with our family. I can't say that my sister didn't have close friends in school and wasn't outgoing.

Unlike me, I think she connected with the people of her class. I, on the other hand, was not accepted. Wasn't white, but definately didn't grow up in the hood, and to this day I still don't know the names or locations of half of the 'projects' in this city. I couldn't relate, and didn't care to. And no it's not that I'm mean, or am hard to get along with. I would've rather a conversation about something I knew about. The crazy stares I got when they realized that I didn't relate to the hood or that I didn't know the latest pop song sung by a white girl, didn't help. It somewhat hurts now to realize that I never had a close friend, other than my sister. I sometimes envy her close relationships with other people and especially men in her college life, that I never got the chance to experience. I am grateful that today, I can admit, that I do have one friend that seems to understand me. And I will always have my best sistah friend. LoL.

Though not a man, I am just like the title of the book I am currently reading. Except mine would say, "Invisible Woman." Invisible to my family, friends, classmates, and by standers who think I must be complicated or a crazy baby mamma cause I have kids. Of course outsiders never seem to think that maybe it's the baby's daddy is insane, but that's another blog. No one see's me. The main character of my story thrives in being invisible. He couldn't be happier. I feel the exact oppisite sitting here at this desk. Knowing that my carcase is all people see and love.

Much love and hugs!