MarieMarie Urban
Bio
Thus finally a website that incorporates music and story-telling! My mind exactly on auto pilot!
Stories (9/0)
Gypsy
. I overheard "Gypsy" by the infamous group Fleetwood Mac for the first time, I felt an obscure pressure to move. The night drew humid, awhile the damp smell of fertilizer seeped heavily inside my bedroom window. Hot bursts of wind blew steadily throughout my small bedroom in midst drizzled rain. This was the summer before freshman year of college. I was anxious, bored yet, apprehensive to move away from home. Every night before bed I wrote throughout a journal of short stories or poems as I listened to music into the wee hours of the morning. I overheard "Gypsy" by accident on an old radio cassette player my father bought me as birthday present when I was sixteen. Being the night owl that I was I tentatively listened to "night storm" aloud as I would set nearby my bedroom window.
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Beat
Painkillers
Painkillers From compared to all us, Khadijah is the least bothered. One could say indifferent, and from the looks of it..joyous. She drives in cruise mode, one hand stirring the direction of the car and the other holding yet another cigarette (she lit awhile making a left turn.) Tanya (sits uptop Sky's lap) as Niecey and I sit smushed alongside each door. Lala is unusually mute as she changes stations from off the radio. Finally she stops on a station playing "Massive Attack" by Nicki Minaj. I hear Khadijah rap, "Pop a bottle just to get my head right, tell a doctor go and get my meds right, Monster, you know it wouldn't be proper, If we didn't return with a big rocket launcher, Massive Attack, mmn massive attack."
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Humans
You a dummy
"You a dummy" Khadijah, Lala and Sky came by my room early. It's a Saturday morning. They shamelessly arrive in pajamas and colorful hair bonnets excluding Lala (who is wearing a night cap or du-rag.) My roomate is at work and I am still hugging my sheetlike pillow drearily, half awake and half asleep. I dreamt Michael Madrid messaged me on Facebook and asked for my personal cell number. Give or take, I almost forget I was asked out last night by Brock. Adaego carelessly slams the door on her way out, which is my cue to turn the air condition on quickly after her departure. She must 'thrive in room temperature only'..our dorm is currently a sauna. I slept miserably without covers, dry sweating in a large t-shirt and little else. I hear Lala punch the door as soon as I get to a point in which Michael calls me, his voice vibrant and familiar. I imagine dialing him up, and my tone of voice equivalent to a puma purring before its next kill (yes, my inner sexy is of the cat family.)
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Humans
Dreams are to be carried not forgotten
In my feelings Three years ago I moved to New Jersey for a job opportunity in customer service. I simply agreed, rather deperately for a job to accept my credentials fresh out of college. The little time I spent before the initial blessing to leave Maryland..was questionable. With little experience throughout anything other than retail, I worked as a telemarketer for a non-profit organization the summer I graduated for literally two weeks. In the beginning I was extremely excited to gain sales experience as an entry level "ambassador." I stood long hours within local malls to pull aside strangers with a rickety tablet as to persuade long term memberships to feed the needy. (The company itself seemed illegitimate, even then I was leery on the details.)I came with nothing and left barely with enough bus fare as the job strictly paid commission. Long story short, I earned a boil at the bottom of my foot and less esteem than initial hire. I gloated in self pity for awhile as I quietly searched entry level jobs on Careerbuilder. I long awaited nothing for three months until a random call one morning took place from a New Jersey number. (Mind you I awoke from a drunken stupor.) There was an offer for full time work as a customer service agent in downtown Atlantic City New Jersey for an insurance company one hour from New York City. Gladly I took advantage of the position and prayed heavily to navigate other concerns such as placement, food and gas. I thought this was a start to stability and career longevity, however, as time slowly passed I realized a couple unsettling truths. For one, I hate public speaking, I should have known customer service is practically social. (Retail is no where near as communicative as customer service; espiecially as store casheir.) But when you're broke, anxious and sickened by being overlooked in job submissions you take your chances. So I have heard no one really enjoys their job. Everyone sacrifices their needs or wants eventually if not constantly.. Secondly, certain coworkers grew to dislike my work ethic. I tend to skip lunch and power through an entire day until thirty minutes before closing. ( Again, I'm not a social person and I rather just do my job and leave all else alone. Call it what you want, but I figure worklife is made simple if you never create friendships to begin with; although I try to be personable. Rent is always priority so I need not ever mess it up.) Lastly, I found myself unhappy outside of work. Rather complacent, I made zero strides in additional networking for studio time. I aspire to be a ghost writer, yet, found it impossible to find a local studio throughout the area. At least in D.C I knew of two up and coming agencies for R&B artists or rappers. In the heart of possibly all east coast attractions for casino tourism, I may have thought too optimisically. Overall quest as a creative became unrealistic, yet, I tackle rent, and other expenses with great ease so as long as I never miss work. My inner desires to write slowly fades into worriation and a predictable check..(until I meet a young fellow as potential roommate. He's attractive but I learn later he has as many girlfriends as he owns boxers..his sexual appetite is plentiful. A man with that much action needs a hell of alot under garment.) Anyhow, I struggled to meet in the middle. And lost my job..because I wasn't talkative. In customer service, managers can overhear all phone conversations. Not that I came in late, or was a difficult employee. In quote, "I lack friendliness" yet, accomplish other features for a client. That same afternoon I was fired I walked into a beauty supply store in need of help and was hired on the spot full time..it's uncanny but true. I rather risk job title than lose rent money. My life's journey so far is one unpleasant experience after the next. Thus the one thing that never escapes me is the need to write..I'm plaqued with an obligation that only I know is important to make due. Results vary.
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Journal
Treat you like a queen
"I'll treat you like a Queen" As I walk the toward my room I hear "way you screamin' scratchin' yellin'..bet the neighbors know my name." Not fond of the song, I quickly write throughout my journal the lyrics lingering from Khadijah's room and quickly search on YouTube to realize it's a single from Trey Songz, "Nieghbors Know My Name." I like the song alot, and plan to listen repeatedly when I get the chance. (I have the strange habit of listening to the same song repeatedly if I have never heard before or want to learn the lyrics.) I walk over to Khadijah's room and knock politely. A male's voice yells, "who is it?" followed by a chuckle from Khadijah. "Hey! It's Marie." I should just take my behind back to my room knowing all well what's going on. The second I turn away, Khadijah opens the door and out walks Darrel from last night. "I'm sorry Khadijah, I can always come back later." Without really looking my way she gracefully brushes past me and opens the window in her room. "Girl just come in." I shyly sit onto a nearby chair, "Y'know Lala told me to come by after class if I wanted to go to Ibiza with you guys tonight." Khadijah fiddles with a weak cigarette lighter, holding it closely to a blunt. Inbetween inhaling smoke she speaks. " Uh, yea we going to Ibiza near eleven tonight. You in?"
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Humans
I thought you were quiet
I thought you were quiet" A month before move-in, I received a large white envelope enclosed with campus brochures, a list of all orientation events, shuttle bus departure to and from campus and a fancy, thick, off white page signed by the dean 'herself'. I read tediously, "Welcome Freshman 2010! I sincerely look forward to meeting all of you in person for orientation…" I then realize a small piece of paper the size of a sticky is paper-clipped neatly upon the back of the letter.The words in plain bold lettering say,
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Humans
Spin The Hennessey
"Spin the Hennessey" We wait close to twenty minutes across the street from campus for a bus in route to Rhode Island Station. Which to my surprise is only a few stops away from campus. Not at all the long ride I anticipated or overheard Lala complain as "long 'lye-ke' (like) shit" to walk. (Rhode Island Station from first impression is surely as dull as the night permits.) A street light buzzes above us as we walk past a dozen brick row-houses. Niecey leads us toward an apartment complex of which two men stand outside holding indisclosed bottles of ligour. I overhear "Everybody Looking" by Gucci Mane from within an apartment ground floor. One of the men holler in an oversized hoodie, his voice similar to Lil Jon scream "What?!Okay!," "Nieeeceeyy!Baby!" the closer we approach and embraces Niecey awhile pinching her voluptuous hips. "You lookin' right t'day baby girl." He lifts down his hoodie, "Hi ladies." Before fully walking inside, I recognize a smell reminiscent from earlier in the cafeteria on Lala of earthy yet, skunk-like musk. However, more pungent as the livingroom area is full of smoke. The entire home is dimly lit of light blue lavalamps. Bob Marley posters hang delicately all throughout the apartment walls and occasionally sway from an open balcony door. (It's windy but thoroughly humid.) I sit nervously aside Tanya, who has been sharing a 'blunt' with Lala ever since we left. (Tanya sloppily explains the contents of a blunt because I was the only one who didn't know what it was throughout the busride here. Further isolating my place amongst the girls but I couldn't care less. I think weed smells awful..) Niecey disappears into one of the bedrooms as Khadijah and Sky join the other man inside the kitchen. Sky fills her water bottle with Patron and guzzles aloud until empty. "Damn girl, you take it 'beck' (back.)" The other man says. Kristen bursts through the livingroom, "Whey (where) Blue at?!" She flicks through a couple songs from off a stereo the right of me, ( I can literally hear static inbetween songs and begin to prepare my senses as she increases volume.) "Grove St. Party" by Waka Flaka Flame cracks open my sides, thrushes below my legs and aggressively whips into the livingroom like thunder. I look up to spot Kristen smoothly quiver, lifting her tube top jersey further revealing a flat tummy of a dozen tattoos. (Girl can dance better than anyone I know and can dougie to any beat.) The man from the kitchen grabs hold of Kristen' waist and grinds. Tanya and Lala walk to the balcony, I hear them chuckle in spout of Kristen' weird behavior. Minutes later two other men walk toward the kitchen and pour themselves a cup of Patron. (Please keep in mind, I have little to none social skills. Social etiquette at a party.. Or so I thought includes a hostess who attends the needs of all party attendees. We talk, possibly drink. Eat? I've seen alot of movies about college frat parties. But none begin quite like this.) One of the men who just arrived sets beside me on the couch. He stares lustfully at Khadijah as she walks toward him holding two red cups. She smiles warmly, "How've you been?" I can sense they may know eachother. The air between them is thick enough to cut a knife through. "I been good. You?" Khadijah flirtatiously flips her silky, flatiron tresses and cooly looks away. "I been good." The man deeply sucks his teeth, "Stop playin', you haven't answered my texts all week." Khadijah crosses her arms (very unbothered by the way, whether I hear them or not.) She responds, "Look.. I've been busy with class and work. Sometimes I be too tired to text anyone back at the end of the day." The man obviously looks upset. I then devert my focus on Kristen menacingly wine in place as "Beat It Up" by Gucci Mane plays in the background.) "Yeah, sure. So when you off again?" Khadijah takes a sip from her cup, calculating her next response. " Uhh.. Come by Sunday." "Aiight..bet. You act like you can't talk or somethin'." Sky turns the stereo low, plops center of the room with a bottle of Hennessey in hand. She says, "Let's play spin the Hennessey!" Kristen stops dancing and joins. A man from the kitchen scoffs of the idea. Somehow everyone is back in the livingroom, "Game is real simple. But in this case whoever spin the Hennessey asks the other person to kiss somebody in the room or to a dare." Niecey leaves one of the bedrooms wearing a thin, lime green robe as followed by the same drunk fellow with the hoodie. He says, " Well spin the gawt' (got) damn thang. Im in it." Sky spins the Hennessey twice before it lands on Tanya. Tanya seductively walks over toward the kitchen and really..I mean really plants her lips deeply on the man who scoffed of the game. He bites her bottom lip as she tugs away. The expression on his face is dumbfounded. She spins and the bottle points toward Kristen. Who jerks forward and kisses Tanya before speaking. Khadijah squirms, "Well, damn." Kristen takes a turn and to her disappointment the bottle points on the guy who spoke to Khadijah. "Uh, hell no." He kneels down from off the couch as Kristen scrinches her face and perches her lips inward. Someone in the back says, "She dont want it! Im tryin' tell you." Everyone in the room laugh. Lala tosses a few orange and blue pills onto the floor. "Anyone who spins at this point got to take a molly." Kristen dry swallows one of the pills and spins once again. The second I look away toward the stereo (which is playing "Gucci Time" by Gucci) I peer down and see Kristen seductively rub her palms. Something in me, from out of nowhere blurts, "Dare!" ( I couldn't make myself kiss Kristen.) But somehow, my response makes her too excited to sit still, "Race me!" "Kristen, I can't race you." "Yea you can..Ill take Blue's car and you take Darrels. Race me to campus." (Strange enough no one thinks this is a wild idea. Including the men whose car we might use as a joyride. Darrel is the same guy who spoke to Khadijah earlier and Blue aka 'Daddy' is Neiceys' boyfriend.) " Im sorry, I can't drive..I- don't have a driver's license." Kristen leaps up and walks outside as Darrel reaches into his jean pockets for his car keys. "I'll sit in the passenger seat. Trust me. Driving aint hard." I nod my head no several times, but I begin to realize, this may be my only way back to campus. From what I could slightly remember, the bus we rode only turned one corner. I quickly imagine myself driving straight, but the idea itself is ridiculous. Although spinning, I can't think, my armpits begin to streamline sweat as I slowly make my way outside. I hear Darrel cackle from the back of me as he talks to Blue. Blue speaks holding a cigarette, "Hey you..(I turn nervously, it's apparent my body is shaking head to toe.) You don't have to... Kristen crazy as shit. (Inhales a cigarette puff and blows into my face.) But listen..Darrel can take you back." (At this very moment. I grow chummy of the idea. Rather myself in rear view of my own consciousness. But here is where I realize my anxiety was not due to what could happen, yet, menacing. Why not? I doubt I'll have another opportunity such as this to take a chance. A dangerous chance, but a chance no less. Blindly I say, "I'll do it." Before I can further process anything, I'm inside Darrel's cramped Nissan buckling my seatbelt. I felt minuscule, merely an ant rowing a boat. The tug and pull of an object so massive, seeps drearily forward. My fingers glide the wheel numbly until I meet Kristen at an intersection. "When the light go green you go..okay?" Darrel says in awe of his own disposition at this moment. I could tell he is tipsey but mainly indifferent if not bored. Kristen dashes forward, she pokes her head out of the driver's window inspite of another upcoming red light ( where we should turn left) however, Kristen speeds straight through the red signal and Darrel uses his left arm to help me turn the wheel once the signal turns green. I felt like an infant being quided to walk for the first time. ( Mind you it's after 2:00 am on a Friday. To my surprise no one else is driving.) Darrel tells me to stop at a curbside across the street from campus. As I get out, he says "That girl prolly not comin' back till the morning wit' Blue's car. I know..once he sobers up he gonna be peah-issed (pissed) she took his BMW somewhere southeast. Tuh!.. Be easy." As he spuds off, I become overly thankful to be on campus grounds. I stare graciously toward the small driveway that leads toward the dorms and thank heaven and earth to feel wind, and to hear it brush vastly against the scattered cherry blossom trees. Oh the wind! It's a beautiful thing.
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Humans
Girls will be Gurlz
Girls Will Be GURLZ I spent the entire summer in recollection. For the first time in years I could dwell on the menial thoughts and pleasures of a teen.Or what little time I had left at eighteen. At age ten my mother passed away abruptly from cancer. The last of girly interaction we had together as mother and daughter was..sparse. She helped me put on my earrings a month before she died. As a teenager I always at some point struggled to be ladylike. Rugged, awkward, aloof and as more time passed skinny. All of the baby fat I acquired through adultrification, school and stress slowly trimmed away. I steadily kept to myself and was determined to stay as such in college. Hard to believe, even now, I would meet or befriend a few characters unlike myself. Every other girl from D.C made girls from Maryland look..well..stuck up. Or complacent. When I met Tanya Evans, it was during freshman orientation week The initial move-in trial for all freshman to get acquainted or familiar with campus, class schedules and departure from home. Being on my own was nothing new. But I distinctly remember Tanya asking at lunch, " You eat meat?" My entire plate was filled with romaine salad and ranch dressing. I refused to eat anything more than cranberry juice and vegetables. My newfound shape pronounced femininity, control and an identity I could live with despite the lack thereof. However, I was intrigued and joined her alongside a group of girls I hardly knew. Each vastly different than the next, and by personality alone I learned their names before lunch was over. Tanya being the warmest of the group swung her poetic justice box-knot braids every so often from her face when she spoke. We had much in common, and she laughed at how stoic I answered her from compared to the other girls. Niecey sat adjacent of Tanya and I, who for the very best of her spoke in-and-out of conversation with her boyfriend on loud speaker. She popped gum alike the turn of wheels on a car, and constantly smoothened her short bob hair cut with a mini comb she had attached to a lime green key chain (of a dozen keys that clatched against her wide hips.) Kristen, a girl that later joined us at the table reverses her chair backward and places down a bowl of cereal and red gatorade. Her high top Nike shoes screech in-toe of her noisy swish-swish sweatpants. She flung her thick honey blonde dreads aback of her pointy shoulders and politely shook my hand. She says aloud, "Basketball tryouts comin' next week on Monday at 8. You should come by the gymnasium and try out. You seem like you've played ball before." Niecey chimes in, "Scuse me..we dont know this girl." My jaw drops, and before I can move my mouth to speak, Kristen says, "Bitch.. I just met you like two days ago." Niecey snickers aloud, her boyfriend readily says on speaker "Who?" Tanya waves her hand dismissively, her giant brown eyes light up in laughter along withthe other girls. Perhaps I'm slow, but another girl from the edge of the table asks, "What'd ya do?" I barely understand the context of her question, from the look on my face the same girl says, "Oh she such a sweetheart. Where you from?" I straighten my back and lowly respond, "I'm from Maryland." Niecey clashes, "Err' body know Maryland girls guh'... like.. shit. She a miss plain jane." Kristen licks her lips from off a spoonful of cereal and playfully rubs her palms together, "Not if I know first." Tanya shakes her head in dismay and focuses attention onto Kristen, "No girl..that's not for you to know." The other girl introduces herself, "Scuse them, they actin' up t'day. Im Sky, what's your name?" My voice barely above a whisper, "Marie." Another girl pulls up a chair and places her tray dramatically onto the table, she too has dreads but they are pulled uptop the crown of her head in a short ponytail. She wafts amongst the table an earthy, skunk-like odor that pulls attention off of me immediately but not in a way I expect. Niecey briefly stops talking to her boyfriend and says to the girl, "Im'ma need a dub from you girly when we get back to the dorms." Tanya neatly folds a ten dollar bill and slides it over to the girl, whom carefully clasps hands with me and nods to handover to Tanya. (A baggy of rough mixture the size of a quarter from what I could feel within my palm.) Niecey hangs up the phone and menacingly clicks her long green acrylic nails, "Daddy has a small get-to-together later on at his place, he said I could bring some ah' you cus' his friends'll be there." Kristen hops excitedly in her chair, "Ahhh shit, they got patron. Bet..Lala you comin'." Niecey rolls her neck, her pearl necklace almost stiffins when she says, "Uh bitch you got a friend that's striaght?" Sky eyes me, and quickly guzzles a water bottle (I learn shortly after is full of vodka.) "You in?" The girls become quiet and await an answer. (Please keep in mind I knew less than fifty percent of what they were talking about, but for the first time in my life I wanted to be apart of something. Anything. It felt liberating and I theoretically wanted 'in' on the action.) I shrug innocently, "Yea, sure." We all decide to regroup and meet throughout "Khadijah's room." Strange enough her dorm is literally a few doors away from my room and I have yet to meet her. A short and squatty girl answers the door before us all, she embraces Lala kindly and flops onto a bed covered entirely of soft, velvet pillows. She types rapidly throughout a small laptop and beckons I close the door. And once I do, the song "Deuces" beams loudly from a portable speaker placed conveniently upon a window sill center of the room. All dorms were made similar and the windows were placed front and center as to overlook the campus soccer field. A small driveway swerves all throughout the campus to allow traffic (from michigan avenue.) Just slightly beyond the soccer field reveals a sight I soon aspire or obsess over just by sound alone (a street neatly aligned of vibrant pink cherry blossom trees that leads further downtown, several blocks away from the Capitol.) My attention reverts back unto a conversation I miss entirely, and as usual I quietly overhear and blend alike the masses. Lala lyes beside Khadijah on her bed slowly blowing smoke into perfect O's. Niecey tosses a bill onto Lala, who pretends to be unbothered as she enters the room. Sky stumbles from leaning against a wall and walks toward me, her breath smelt of strong ligour, "You ever smoke before?"
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Humans
Urban Stories
When you think of starting over, in terms of life-style choices or in general one may consider making peace with themselves. A trail of thoughts and ideas come to mind. Somehow, the unpleasant seems reasonable to face head on and everything that was avoided from the beginning is hard to ignore. At least in my opinion.. Maybe make amends with those you hurt or hurt you. Or moving on to another endeavor, be it a new hobby, job opportunity, or relationship. So much will come to mind in terms of truly stepping out of the norm and gradually making changes for the better.
By MarieMarie Urban 4 years ago in Beat