This is a meal ticket…”
That’s how letters from my little brother would begin when he wrote Mommy during that first and only summer we both went away to camp. Separated for the first time, we were at camps of our own choosing that year; as the Brooklyn Flatbush YMCA Day Camp was our permanent fixture. I loved the Flatbush Y whereas he could take it or leave it.
The staff at his camp “conveniently” scheduled time to write parents and loved ones back just before dinner. Oh not to worry it wasn’t mandatory every day or anything like that. Pretty genius if you ask me. I honestly don’t think we would’ve heard from him, had he not been made to write!
Hmmm…made to write. A scheduled time to write. Now that’s different…at least for me. Whatever have I started here in this space called Authenticitee Speaks? I’m like an incredibly odd blend of eclectic, raw, impulsive sincerity and “nothing a good management team can’t fix”. Writing (publicly) kinda goes from, “Hey look at me, I’m writing!” to “What ‘chu lookin’ at? Can’t you see I’m writing?!” in my best Brooklyn accent of course…Son.
Some call her February…
I chose that title for this piece because I was originally thinking of a unique way to say February 1st. I bore that easily. Yep, I even managed to complicate that right? But then it felt like the name of a novel I should write or the first line of yet another poem. However maybe I’m February or going through a February. See February is also a girl’s name that means “purification” (thank you Google – your work is done here); so perhaps that’s why it was so important to write something today. A day to chronicle just…that.
“Purify me oh mighty God above and let this time date stamp before midnight prove a Sista can be consistent!!”
No, (sigh) now that doesn’t sound right either. *clears throat* “We won’t be spiritualizing procrastination, uncertainty, being in the middle of major transition, overextending myself with an iota of a new sense of direction”…at least not this time.
This is Day 1. And yes I’ve been here many times before. I’ve had many Day 1s before. Every doggone journal I’ve started; from Noah’s flood to Kendrick Lamar’s kick a•• Grammy performance begins exactly the same. You know how we do. Hit that Dollar Tree Honty and grab another (rolls eyes) marble notebook with a chic cover and begin…again. Be it repentance or reflection we all have habits we want to develop or drop. I wanna get in the habit of writing in this space at least once a week; there, I’ve said it. And as far as I’m concerned, this is yet another brand new Day 1 for
me all of us.
Hello. My name is Ericka. I prefer to be called ‘e‘ (lowercase intentional) but some? Some call her February…and that sounds beautiful to me.
Thank you for being here!
e of @authenticiteespeaks
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