All around me it seems some contagious entity has taken over. This mystery urge seems to be bypassing me. Pretty much everyone’s got it.
Isn’t it so sickening, maybe even bile inducing. I wonder why it hasn’t attacked me. Its forcing everyone to couple up. Very few are left untouched.
The lucky few not absorbed into this thing called love. The infected ones call us the unfortunate ones or “third wheels.”
But little do they know we are the fortunate few that are left with some sort of sanity. Because they are filled with evil emotions making them scared and insecure.
For now, I’m happy to be uninfected because at least I’m being true to myself. Maybe one day I’ll let myself become infected and settle myself into that insanity.
Until then I’m a sane third wheel.
Originally posted on The Mujerista
My hair has been called “pelo malo” or bad hair ever since I was a little girl. I remember going to a Dominican hair salon to get my hair straightened (not “permed” aka permanently straightened) for my first communion and the stylist did not know that I’m African-American and Panamanian/Costa Rican. …
In January of 2016 I began my journey as a social journalism graduate student at the CUNY J-School. I became part of the second cohort of what we affectionately call Social J.
Social journalism is focused on serving communities. Social journalists view journalism as a service to help communities instead of the content obsessed industry that we currently see. …