Roman.Speaks

Thanks for the follow! Your blog is fantastic!

Thu, 06 Dec 2012 01:11:37 -0500

Thanks a lot! I enjoy yours as well.

August.Rising Vol.1

Wed, 05 Dec 2012 17:37:38 -0500

HERE

EXT. SUBURBAN BALTIMORE, NIGHT, 2011

Distant sirens gradually become clearer. Nineteen year old

Apollo is helplessly curled over in the street. His face is

beaten and bloody. The darkness of the street is only

interrupted by a few streetlights. A dark and assaulted

Apollo writhes and attempts to scoot but his body gives out.

The sirens are now louder and more consistent as Apollo lies

still.

INT. HOSPITAL

The long, sterile hospital hall leads to Apollo’s room where

his cousin, 26 yr old Zalah, is by his side. Zalah’s deep

brown eyes are fixed on a bandaged and sleeping Apollo. The

scene is relatively absent of dialogue besides Zalah

speaking to Apollo who is bandaged and sleep.

ZALAH

You keep pushing your luck don’t

you?

Silence except the sound of the machines supporting Apollo.

ZALAH

I’m just glad you made it (pause)

Happy you’re still breathing.

On the verge of tears, she refrains from speaking and stares

into her cousin’s beautiful dark face; almost so dark you

can’t tell that he’s been beaten up. The hospital room is

sterile and cold and the bandages and Zalah runs the

backside of hand along the head bandage.

ZALAH

King Tut.

She says this aloud. The tubes are coming from his nose and

the bag drips. Zalah is uneasy now as she glances over to

the bag.

ZALAH

I know it’s been hard…probably

harder than any of us ever

thought…

Zalah abruptly stops speaking and becomes emotional again.

She stops frequently while talking to Apollo to steady

herself and suppress tears. She sighs heavy and holds his

rough hand.

(CONTINUED)

Page 3

CONTINUED:

ZALAH

…just thought you’d fight in a

different way Bear.

Apollo attempts to mumble something; it is inaudible. Zalah

straightens up and sniffles.

ZALAH

Hey you. Wake up. Can you hear me?

I’m here.

A faint smile of a chipped front tooth.

ZALAH

Take your time baby. You’ll come

around.

GONE

INT. ZALAH’S APARTMENT, SEATTLE, MORNING, PRESENT DAY

Apollo’s long, sinewy legs are tangled in white sheets. The

sun is cutting through the curtains and garbage trucks are

collecting outside. He reluctantly opens his eyes and lie in

bed. His morning wood is throbbing and he reaches down to

touch himself.

INT. CHELSEA’S ROOM, EARLY EVE., 2007

APOLLO

I saw you looking at him! I saw you

bitch!

Chelsea is whimpering. She is a year older but stands at

only 5’1’; a frail, melodramatic bi-racial girl. Recently

interested in the Emo movement, she is dressed in tapered,

yellow stonewashed jeans and a faded black tee that hits at

her navel. Her eye makeup is heavy and amateur and her long,

jet black and light brown hair is tossed across her forehead

nearly covering her green eyes.

CHELSEA

I promise Apollo, I don’t know what

you’re talking about!

Apollo extends his arm to Chelsea’s neck and tightens his

grip. Chelsea begins to struggle for oxygen and tears roll

down her thin face and her makeup runs. She is pleading with

her eyes. For a second, she loses is motionless and a

frightened Apollo releases. He pushes her by her neck and

she lands on her twin size bed.

(CONTINUED)

Page 4

window. He twists an

CONTINUED:

APOLLO

You slut! You probably fucked him

too. You think you’re too good for

me? Is that what it is?

Although Apollo has released her neck, she is still

traumatized and unable to speak. She catches her breath and

screams for Apollo to leave her room; the house. In the next

room Chelsea’s younger sister is lying belly down on her bed

and deeply engaged in a re-run of Teen Mom. Chelsea’s mother

is in the kitchen dressed in business casual. She is

scrambling to put together a meal. Both family members are

focused on their activities. Back in the room, Chelsea is

crying loudly and violently. Apollo is standing near the

door, staring at Chelsea with a blank look on his face.

APOLLO

Look Chels, I love you. I just

can’t stand to see you with anybody

else…you don’t know how mad I get

when I do.

CHELSEA

If you love me then why would you

try to kill me?

APOLLO

Because I love you.

and it will not be televised. Ever.

Wed, 05 Dec 2012 17:16:00 -0500

and it will not be televised. Ever.

You’re like that smell when I walk into Whole Foods/Never thought I’d be the kinda girl...

Thu, 29 Nov 2012 12:44:48 -0500

You’re like that smell when I walk into Whole Foods/Never thought I’d be the kinda girl saying it but I don’t feel whole/without you/Never thought I’d miss the smell of morning breath/but there’s been no good mornings for me/Since you’ve left/and I’m left here/alone/without you

~yours truly

I’m both

Thu, 15 Nov 2012 23:01:43 -0500

I’m both

Today...

Thu, 15 Nov 2012 22:56:34 -0500

I wrote my little heart out today…thee ol’ fashioned way, pen to papyrus. #CuzI’mClassy

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Wed, 14 Nov 2012 15:39:00 -0500

Bridges

Wed, 14 Nov 2012 15:21:00 -0500

I finally understand my right to freedom, more than ever before. It’s funny how you can be weighed down by your past and at the same time wonder why you’re not getting ahead…So I can do one of two things:

A: Let go + Move On

B: Hang on + Keep complaining

#RightToChoose

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Sun, 11 Nov 2012 22:04:00 -0500

C'est Si Bon Y'all

Sun, 11 Nov 2012 21:56:00 -0500

In a continuation of celebrating first-class women, I offer this little note about a big personality, a one Ms. Eartha Kitt.

She entertained Paris as well as NYC’s Broadway. With nothing but talent and lots of moxie, she made her mark in show business. She danced her way all to Europe with the legendary Katherine Dunham and eventually, Orson Welles was endeared enough to offer her the role of Helen of Troy.

But she is also triumphant. Often taunted for her ethnicity and sent away at an early age, Ms. Kitt knows a thing or two about obstacles. Despite being turned away by native hands, the stage and the spotlight embraced her. Even the kids loved her in “The Emperor’s New Groove.”

Eartha was a pistol. She seemed like the kind of woman who might just break out into song mid-conversation. And scold you for interrupting her. Yes, yes she was something else with that radically unique voice. Sometimes I still wake up to the sound of her purring “Marcus dah’ling…I don’t have any panties on.”

Tell me, how do live the life? Are you first-class?

Sunday Kind of Love

Sun, 11 Nov 2012 10:40:00 -0500

She sang the blues her entire life which was good for the public. But sadly, she lived a great deal of the blues as well. Her pain made her legendary. #Sunday Kind of Love is one of my favorites….hope she found it

thanks for the follow! groovy blog! :) x

Sun, 11 Nov 2012 10:35:47 -0500

Ditto! Love, love your tumblr name by the way.

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Sat, 10 Nov 2012 23:42:53 -0500

Happy Thought

Sat, 10 Nov 2012 23:41:00 -0500

… to be young, black, talented and full of vigor.

Tell me…what would you give me for a basket of kisses?

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Fri, 09 Nov 2012 16:21:00 -0500

Session

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 16:06:00 -0500

Position yourself so you’re always able to stand on your on two. And the only acceptable place to get a name inked on your body is if it can be covered by ankle socks; and if he asks “why not?”,you should respond “well if you gotta ask” and throw him the young Woody Allen glare…AMEN

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Thu, 08 Nov 2012 21:36:33 -0500

Why Grace Jones Turns Me On

Tue, 06 Nov 2012 00:49:00 -0500

Nothing describes Grace Jones quite like the word fabulous. Granted, I’ve never met her but I sense it’s something grand about her presence, like she can own a room just by walking in. Much like Prince, Ms. Jones is an enigma. How can one girl possess so much confidence and style?

Let’s go beyond that. Grace Jones was perceived downright ugly by many, especially many brown people. She is sure enough dark, too dark for many to consider her a beauty. Her nose is thick. Her look is strong. Despite an inundation of criticism, she used her naysayers as a runway. Grace sported that high top fade better than any 80s rapper. She did it all while embodying her namesake: with grace and explosive confidence, she shocked the worlds of fashion and music only to make her mark as an icon.

Despite “Pull Up to the Bumper” holding strong at #2 for 7 weeks, Jones wasn’t just one-hit sensation. And yes, her acting career extends far beyond Boomerang (James Bond, hello). Her presence was magnetic enough to attract the likes of Andy Warhol. Finally, her style was dapper enough that French photographer Jean-Paul Goude just had to work with her. Best of all, she is still rocking audiences to this day.

What I’m saying is this: when I’m not quite 100%, I turn on the Jones. When I find myself spending too much time in the mirror, I make a mean Nicki Minaj face and yell out “Grace Jones B*&$#ES!”. Then I let out an evil laugh and walk away.

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Sat, 26 May 2012 22:43:31 -0400

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Sat, 26 May 2012 22:32:18 -0400