|
||
|
The storm she is brewing
I am currently undertaking a huge and financially humbling feat--finding an apartment in the DC area for a reasonable price. (I mean really, if folks with money are renting, what the hell is a sister just above the poverty line gonna do?) So if you don't see me around you know why. Yesterday there was a beautiful storm. A most magical, powerful storm. Sometimes I have to be reminded about how powerful this earth is. After only ten minutes of raging outside of my window making unclear the world outside, my  electricity went out and it has not returned since. My entire fridge is a compost heap. Unfortunate, because I had sme tasty organic frozen burritos in there for lunch tomorrow. So I am here at the College Perk utilizing the free electricity and wireless internet for my scholastic (and blogging purposes).Meanwhile, I have also had to admit to an addiction to myspace. Equally, I am addicted to downelink to but not so much because their cookies aren't as long lasting... constant relogging is like the patch. However, I am in the process of recovery by allowing myself only one visit while I am not at work. I currently have an intense desire to sing. So I will share with you the verses I am humming now: When I was a young girl I used to see pleasure When I was a young girl I used to drink ale Right out of the ale house and into the jail house Right out of the bar room and down to my grave Come mama come papa and sit you beside me Come mama come papa come pity my case My poor head is aching my heart it is breaking My body salve-aided and I'm bound to die Go send for the preacher to come and pray for me Go send for the doctor to heal up my wounds My poor heart is aching my heart it is breaking My body salve-aided and hell is my home I want three young ladies to bear up my coffin I want three young ladies to take me along I want them to carry a bunch of white roses, lord To put on my body as I pass along One morning one morning in May One morning one morning in May I spy this young lady all clad in white linen All clad in white linen cold as clay When I was a young girl I used to see pleasure When I was a young girl I used to drink ale Right out of the ale house and into the jail house Right out of the bar room and down to my grave Right out of the bar room and down to my grave Down to my grave-- (The High Priestess soothes all souls.) image (c) corbis uttered by a black girl at 7:11 AM.
|
1 comments
i looove storms, especially they ones that make the ground shake and rumble. I love watching them from the windows, the sound of rain...
|
 Greetings from Bettina and Nia! contact
events
weather in the dmv
archives previous posts current read current groove
blogs
|
__________________
all content and images unless otherwise noted, (c) baj 2006 all rights reserved