Saturday, November 28, 2009

Hidden (Originally posted 5-12-06)

Hidden, but not for long. Everytime you open your mouth you lose a bone. Fuck skeletons in closets, there's a graveyard in your soul. Too old, not old enough, not grown enough to walk in truth. You lie because it just comes natural. And she. Pity mixed with revulsion. I'm beginning to detest you both. You spoke and your words clouded up like steamy showers. Your speech has no power. Lost on me like the sailors from the perfect storm. This ain't normal. Feeling earthquakes in my soul...shit is crumbling. Tumbling like the cooldown cycle on laundrymat dryers. I'm feeling no heat. I sleep and dream dreams, see things I'd rather not see. You don't feel me, too busy feeling yourself I suppose. God knows light was shed on this darkness but it was brief, like kids at the park at night with sparklers. I don't own ten lifetimes of honesty but honestly...I can be honest. I tell you the truth 99.9 percent of the time...I promise. So much to say and so little time in which to say it, I'm an old Isley Brothers vinyl and you just wanted to play it. Are you reading between these lines? They say, "I know what you did last summer". And back in March when we first began. Then again, a dime was dropped and the scene was discerned from the past couple years. No tears. I don't have the time, energy or desire to cry. I'm just pouring gasoline, dropping matches and watching shit burn and die. I tried, I really did, but almost has never been good enough. I understand change is tough, but that doesn't equate impossible. Now I'm a fossil. A glorious history embedded in an ornate shell. You can tell others how great it was before the molten lava of your lies caught up to us. Speak on trust that was not becuase the foundation was poured on deceit. Continue to creep with the girl next door. She's a whore filled with the spawn of maybe you...maybe him. I guess it all depends on her whim..."hmmm what dick will I sample today?......" Now y'all gonna play the D&C scrape game and maybe that mistake will wind up just another red stain. Virtuous indeed. Cloak yourself with righteousness if that helps you look in the mirror, but the truth is all over your spirit. You reek of uncompleted promises and broken dreams. Your garment of sanctity is torn at the seams. You talk about a redeemer yet your life and what you speak are diametrically opposed. Just put on some regular clothes because your white robes fool no one. You're as fucked up as they come. You tried to hide...but it was all in vain. Nothing remains hidden

This is dedicated to my now ex and his secret lover(s). Fuckers. I hope they happily ever fucking after. Fin.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Not so precious

silently she spits
matted hair, tear stained face and drooping tits
she throws fits
soundlessly seething
barely controlled breathing
the seventh born child in her lap crying from teething
hopeless, helpless...she's sense-less
she did this
with every unprotected dick she rode she wrote her own sentence
the seeds bear witness to the smoke curling from her nostrils
dissipating in the ether like the money meant for food and pampers
stark reality hampers her escape
the first time was rape
after that it was old hat
turning tricks, she stopped counting the dicks after 45
she's more dead than alive
zombified waiting for an alternate existence
the child cries with more insistence but she doesn't seem to hear it
she sits and silently spits
completely unaware of her matted hair, tear stained face and drooping tits

What love is/ain't? (Originally posted 4-26-06)

I'm like you, I write too. It could be a limmerick or a haiku. My pen is swift and delivers true, if you try to bite my shit I'll fight you. Sometimes I rhyme but most times I don't, I could write a few paragraphs but today I won't. I'm just sitting here keystyling today, I should be working but I want to play. I write what I feel, think and see. I write some for you but mostly for me. I write to release, I write when I'm tense, I write to ease the pressure when nothing makes sense. I write to ease the pain and diffuse my anger, when I don't write away the blues I feel like my spirit is in danger. Sometimes I write like a wordsmith and sometimes I write like a novice, but everything I write comes from within...that's a promise. Today is an example of my less polished pieces, no one will confuse this for a dissertation or thesis. My grammar sucks and my spelling is sometimes off, but most can grasp my flow without getting lost.

Yeah, okay that's enough of that, lol. Today I want to talk about love. What is it about that little word that can cause so much big trouble? People have fought and died for love. People search their entire lives for love. Hell folks will even murder for love...or so some lunatics have claimed. "Love made me do it". I once had a very vivid dream about a man who murdered another man because he "loved" a woman so much. I wrote a poem about it and I would share it right now but I don't know where it is. But you see how passionate, how dedicated, how absolutely intense (obsessive) love can make some folks?

Love will make you do some crazy shit. Love will make you let down your guard even though you're scared as hell, love will make you slap a bitch, love will make you cut a fool. Once love (and a little bit of anger and of course mucho self-defense) made me almost beat a bitch to death. I was once involved with a man who just had to have more than one woman. She knew about me but I didn't know about her until later. One night I was at "my man's house" and she showed up...with a knife (unbeknownst to me at the time). Now I'm no punk but I ain't crazy either, so I called the cops just off GP. This was new jack city type stuff to me, I'd never been there, never done that and mos def didn't get the t-shirt/keychain/coffee mug. I don't know why, but he opened the door and let her in the house. Why would he do that? Well I'm not one to be punked so I went up to her and tried to kick her out, I didn't put my hands on her, I pitched something she gave him "two years prior" (per him) out the door hoping she'd follow it. Wrong move on my part because that bitch snapped. There was at least a foot of space between us and she launched herself at me. Now I just happened to be in various states of undress (it was well after midnight and he and I had been in the bed doing "it") so I was at a disadvantage. This chick got her hands in my hair and knocked me to the floor by kneeing me in the stomach. I have to tell you that after my breath whooshed out I saw darkness like Rick James whenever he looked at Eddie and Charlie Murphy. When I felt her tugging at my hair I saw R E D. No one touches my hair in a threatening one. I balled my fists up and started pummeling this chick in every soft spot I could find. When that didn't get her off me, I used my nails to claw her face/neck/arms, when that didn't work I started pulling her hair out, when that didn't work I used my fists and knees together. The whole time this punk ass muhfucka is in the background telling her to get off me. I was laying on the floor underneath her screaming, "I'ma kill both y'all bitches when I get up off this floor". It's kinda hard to fight when you're damn near butt ass naked and pinned to the floor. Her blood started dripping into my face and getting in my eyes so I had to close my eyes but I kept pounding on her. Still, she would not let me up. All this time the front door was open and the next thing I know, 8 cops come running in with guns drawn and big voices booming. It took 4 of those male cops to get this chick off me and the whole time I am still punching her with one hand, kicking her and clawing her with the other hand. She was BERSERK. They finally got her on her stomach and managed to cuff her and I got a good look at her. She was fucccccccked up. Both her eyes were swollen shut, her lip was busted, she had large patches in her head from where I'd ripped out her hair, scratches and gouges in her face from where I'd clawed her and she was just a bloody fucking mess. But despite it all, the bitch would not get off me. Now that's love for you. She took a serious ass kicking from me that night. The cops cuffed all 3 of us. I was mad as hell and screaming my half naked fool head off. I was just way beyond indignant. How the hell they gonna cuff me and I ain't got on no damn clothes...obviously I belonged there! Vagina all out and shit! Well they hauled me off to the back of the house so I could put something on and I was able to glance in the mirrror. I was very surprised at what I saw. My face was burning because the chick took her hands out of my hair long enough to scratch my face but there wasn't nearly as much damage as I expected. I was missing some hair too but not as much as she was. Don't get me wrong now, I was scratched the hell up but not nearly as I should have been for someone pinned to the floor by a maniac. The lady cop sat me down and told me to tell her what I did. She took the cuffs off me and they brought Mr. Punk Ass Muhfucka into the kitchen to get his story. He was still cuffed. Do you know this mofo had the nerve to say HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! "They just started fighting", he says. I jumped off the chair so fast it flipped backwards, I was gonna kill that punk ass muhfucka! Good thing the lady cop was between us. She told me to stop screaming and calm down or she'd put the cuffs back on me. I sat my ass down. One of the male cops came into the kitchen and told me that due to the nature of the crazy chick's injuries I could be arrested but because she was technically trespassing and she had a weapon, I was getting away with self-defense. He told me she had severe lacerations that may require stitches, I'd almost broken her nose and I'd knocked out one of her teeth. I smiled at that but I kept quiet. I wanted to kill that bitch. I wanted to fuck him up too because that bitch came with a knife to put a serious hurting on me. I was hot. I pressed charges...he didn't. I wanted a restraining order but he wouldn't cooperate so they wouldn't give me one.

Ain't that a bitch? Three different people, all of them in various stages of love and all of them willing to go the distance to protect it. I found out later that that crazy bitch left her 5 year old daughter at home alone to come and take me out. How the hell she know I was gonna be there? He loved her so much though that he refused to back me up in court. Me, well I just looked like a damn fool. I loved him so much I overlooked things I shouldn't have and believed him when he told me I was the only one. Hmm. Perhaps that was just foolishness on my part.

At any rate. Do you see how love is? Love will drive you to do things that you normally wouldn't do. Love will make you blind. Love will make you protect folks even when they are dead wrong. But more than perseveres. After that incident I dropped that dude like he had Bubonic plague and he got back with his crazy knife wielding ex. They later broke up and he called me trying to get back but I now had the t-shirt/coffee mug/keychain. More important...I loved myself too much to even consider taking him back.

Fast forward to Wednesday, April 26, 2006......I am in love with a wonderful man. He is not perfect by any means, but he strives. Now I wouldn't cut a bitch for him but I will beat a bitch to death for myself. I realize that there are going to be challenges that he and I will face both as a couple and as individuals, but I am confident that he and I can do it together. Love brought us together, love will keep us together....we'll fight for that love.


Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Divine Speech A.K.A. MDW NTR (Originally posted 4-19-06)

"I can't live simply because I was born, I want to live because I have a dream."

    What is your dream? Are you living or merely surviving? Are you greeting each day with a smile despite the challenges and revelling in the possibilities of triumph? Are you dreading the trials and sulking because your present life doesn't fit your ideal life?  If the latter sounds like you, you need to get your mind right. Going through the fire purifies you, trials and tribulations are springboards that propel you into glorious opportunities for growth. Change your attitude and you can change your life! Always remember that the universe is conspiring with YOUR energy to either bring your dreams to fruition or destroy them. You want change? Speak change into your life! Practice that Divine Speech A.K.A. MDW NTR. Make speaking your dreams into existence an everyday routine like brushing your teeth and washing your face. At night predetermine your tomorrow. Seek alignment with your Ori  (your higher self). You can do this! You don't need help from anyone outside can do this on your own. You just have to do it. Wake up in the morning and say, "Something better than what I possess at this moment in life is now manifesting for my highest good". But don't just speak it...believe it. Know it. Live it. Feel it! Have an image in your head as you speak, feel and know that all of your dreams can and will come true! Mine did and still are. I trust that y'all can and will be happy, prosperous, strong, victorious, surronded by love and walking in light....If I think you can YOU SHOULD KNOW YOU CAN! I love all of y'all! Walk in peace, abundance, light and love. Bless up!

Update... (Originally posted 4-18-09)

1. Today -  I'm PMS'ing so watch out.

2. Last Friday -  DMG and I went to his great aunt's funeral - I wish I'd gotten the chance to know her. From the remembrances everyone shared she seemed like she was an awesome awesome lady. His family is really nice. After the funeral I went to church with him to listen to him play organ. He wound up playing the piano and drums...he's pretty damn good. After that we picked up some food and went home and watched movies until we passed out.

3. Last Saturday - My daughter and I had a girl's only outing so we took in a movie and did a little shopping. We had a really bad moment at Urban Outfitters (racial profiling) but otherwise, it was an okay outing. DMG came by that evening and me, him, Kari, Courtney and my guy Jahi all sat around playing Uno. We had a lot of fun.

4. Last Sunday - DMG had to play organ for an early Easter Sunday service but afterwards we drove to the south burbs and had dinner with my family. They were pretty well behaved with one or two exceptions. They seemed to welcome DMG pretty well...I was ready to reveal claws the minute someone stepped to my man the wrong way though, lol. I'm so protective of him even though he can take care of himself, lol. After dinner with my fam we went to DMG's church for an Easter Sunday evening service.

Whewwwweeeeeeeeeeeee! Let me tell y'all, that was a powerful damn service. I was crying like a baby. I mean I had a real breakthrough that night. As I said before, I don't plan on making some grand return to christianity but I'm open to whatever the Universe has in store for me. After service we went home and watched tv until we passed out.


In summation...

I just cannot articulate how happy I am. This wonderful wonderful man has come into my life and just changed my entire outlook on love and the endless possibilities thereof. He just captured my heart out of nowhere. Sometimes I just want to cry I feel so blessed. This is it y'all. Damn, this was on my vision board you know. If y'all ain't up on vision board you better get your weight up. A large portion of the items I placed on my vision board have come to bullshit. Anyway, to all my peoples that were cheering for me, consoling me, advising me, loving me and just generally being a friend...I love y'all and I put that on everything. Peace, abundance, light and love to all y'all!

Monday, November 23, 2009

Finally... (Originally posted 4-12-06)

Or maybe I should say "At Last" like Etta James. Yeah I think I will...take a look at the lyrics:

At last my love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
At last the skies above are blue
And my heart was wrapped up in clover
The night I looked at you
I found a dream that I can speak to
A dream that I could call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
You smiled, and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
And you are mine at last

That is how DMG makes me feel. Sometimes I get so scared though. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll wake up and he will have just been a dream. Then he strokes my cheek, reassures me I'm not dreaming, he ain't leaving and we will be together always. This man loves me to death! I mean he really really loves me. Every time I think about it, every time he does something to show it, every time he says it...I'm just amazed. Not because I think I'm unworthy, but because it of the apparent depth and breadth of his love for me. I was not looking for him, I was not interested in dating or falling in love, I was actually thinking that I may have spend a very long time by myself. Then things with him just sort of...blossomed. It happened soooo quickly. We've known each other for 6 years but I never before thought about dating him. I mean...we were just friends. But no we're so much more. Everything I went through to be with this man today has been worth it. All the tears, the cursing, the disappointments....all that shit was worth it. I am wide open and smokin'. I smile all the time now. Those of you who know me personally know that this in itself is a miracle. I am not a smiley face person, I usually don a serious face because smiling makes me feel weak and vulnerable. Now I stay smiling, lol. Strangers want to know what's up, they call my smile beatific. My co-worker said I "got that glow", lol. He's amazing. I mean he is just an awesome man. I have never encountered anyone so willing to help others, so willing to encourage those needing encouragement. He is so kind, so giving, so patient, so sincere, so... (ick)christ like. He got me to do something I said I'd never do again. I went to church y'all. Slow ya roll, I ain't about to make a grand return to christianity or nothin' like that,  I just went to hear him play piano and organ. He is splendid on the keys, just really talented. He plays 13 instruments. He also sings and writes music. Actually, everyone in his family is musically gifted. Almost everyone sings and/or plays an instrument or two. But let me not digress. He is beginning to mean a lot to me. I think about him all the time. When we're apart I cannot wait to see him again. He has pictures of me up in his house. I have a picture of him up in mine. When we aren't together we're on the phone with each other. We will talk for hours and hours and hours. Good thing we're both "In", lol. I would gladly have this man's little green eyed beige skinned babies...okay, well maybe not, but I'd think about it. I guess, lol. He makes me happy. I make him happy. When I am with him everything looks different...feels different....smells different...I'm different. We are good together. He always opens doors for me. He always walks on the outside. He has this way of putting his hand in the small of my back when we're walking that just makes me feel, desirable, protected, etc. I love his mind, hugs, kisses, his laugh, his eyes, his cute little nose, his long fingers, the way he dresses, the way he smells, the way he carries himself, his genuine love of people and music. He makes me want to be a better person. He compliments me. He feels like the other part of me that I've been trying to find. I love his sense of humor, it's wicked. Wow. He lavishes me with his time and attention. He is spoiling me. I like it. I want to spoil him back. I won't be afraid. I will love him without restraint and I will let him return the favor. He's willing to give me keys to his house. I'd rather have the key to his heart....but I'll take the key to the crib too, lol. He said that he belongs to me and I belong to him. I did not disagree. He said he wants to be with me forever. I told him he could.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

He said I'm his dream girl (Originally posted 4-6-06)

He loves me for me. Despite my perceived imperfections, despite my occasional lapses of self-confidence, despite my pendulum like mood swings, despite my rants, raves and road rage....he loves me for me. He ignores my seething sarcasm, laughs at my dumb ass jokes, kisses my hand, strokes my hair, whispers in my ear, hugs me without me having to ask...and he does it all because I am who I am. I am good enough for him. He doesn't want me to change....well he wants me to be a little more patient, but other than that he tells me I'm wonderful just as I am. He loves me for me....despite my hang ups, idiosyncrasies and eccentricities. He calls me every day, he wants to see me all the time, he loves my eyes, he loves my lips, he thinks I'm cute, beautiful and sexy, he calls me baby, he thinks I'm special....he goes out of his way to make sure I feel special. He's special. I'm glad I stopped running from him. Six years is a long time to run. I'm glad I let him catch me. He makes me happy. I'm smiling right now, lol.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

He's Butta...a work of fiction (Originally posted 3-13-06)

Butta' skin

Soup coola' lips

Your green cat eyes chart visual trails from my lips to my hips

Your fingertips slow drag from the base of my throat to the curve of my shoulders, slowly removing my blouse from over my slim frame

The same hands that evoke passionate tunes from the ebony/ivory keys are about to bring this brown fox to her knees

I can't wait for you to please me with that quick pink tongue

Moist soft dampness on my neck got me feeling sprung from my abstinence trap

You have wrung from my body all manner of hot wetness

In a thousand years I still won't be able to forget this

I'll still want to relive this...over and over and over...

Lest I explode from the sweet agony of anticipation please please appease me with your romancipation

I want our clothes removed fast but slow to the glow of the candles illuminating your room

John Coltrane's tempo makes me swoon as you lick my skin

Just dive on in and swim in me

Consume me, get drunk off me...straight inebriated

Let me taste it...I don't believe in wasting it

My sweetness made sweeter still with your added flavor

I want to savor every moan, every touch from you

I don't know how much I can take from you

But I want you to fill me to overflowing

Sowing your seed to the deepest reaches of my being

Your love loving me so good I think I'm seeing double

Damn I'm in trouble

I never figured you'd put it on me like this, whispering nasty words in my ear as you strum me like your guitar

By far, you are enough for me

Got me singing sweetly like your alto sax while you drip hot wax on my curves

I like how you swerve all up and through my honey places

Both of us making those pre-orgasmic faces as we try to pace ourselves

I run and you give chase, kissing trails of your sugar down my face to the valley where my navel awaits

But wait, no baby, I need you inside me once more

Explore all my deep coves, don't stop until you find my treasure trove

Unlock me,  set free the nasty little demon in me

Fuck me harder but slow

I want to know that you can handle it

Shit, I can't handle it






That was a keystyle. It was inspired by someone I know, someone I had a several hours long conversation with last night. We didn't talk about sex or anything provocative, no, nothing like that. It was the cadence of his voice.....but mostly me needing to be stroked. I was feeling sexy as we spoke. The room was dark. It was quiet, all except for our voices vollying the conversation. I'm sure he had no idea that I was undressing him in my mind. Tongue bathing him as we laughed about Dave Chapelle's antics. Imagining his lips leaving trails of hot spots from my neck to my calf and back up again. I had to lock my thighs together to try and calm the throbbing in my nether regions. Goddamn it. I'm hornier than a moat full of mutated toads. I am just dying for a good ramming. But I've sworn off sex. No more sex until "he" arrives. I am a prisoner of my own flesh. Tortured daily by my insatiable libido. Just looking at a man's crotch is enough to get me dripping and ready. *Sigh*

C'est la vie

Friday, November 20, 2009

Creeping back slowly...maybe (Originally posted 3-8-06)

Well sorta.

I have nothing in particular to say today so this will just be a blog full of random ramblings. I'm horny. I've not had sex in a while. So long that I can't remember when I last got some. Strangely enough, I'm not as upset about that as I would have been say...four months ago.  I mean I want some but I'd rather have meaningful sex than "I'm horny and any random dick will do" sex. I guess you can say I'm growing up, lol. I've not had a date in a while either. I used to be somewhat of a serial dater. That too has ceased. I don't want to date anymore. I mean I want to...but I don't. I'm not interested in starting over. The thought of having to take the time to get to know new men makes me yawn and feel suddenly tired. I used to be excited about the prospect of meeting new men, for me it was like getting a new toy. Now I'm like a 5 year old a week after Christmas...just not interested. What does that mean? Is this new attitude also indicative of my burgeoning maturity level? Perhaps I've just grown weary of the dating game. Either way it goes, I will remain single for the time being.

In other news, I've grown very fond of bowling. I've gone a few times with my family and had a blast every time. Now in order to be a real bowler, I have to get my own shoes and personalized ball and bag. Oh, and I have to bowl over 85, lol. The last time I went bowling I met this guy...he was kinda young. I told him I was 35 so he would leave me the hell alone. He was undeterred. He was cute but I was not interested...not really. So I gave him my phone number, lol. He called me almost a week later (I hate those damn dating rules/games folks play....but I'm not interested anyway soooo...). I started not to answer because I didn't recognize the number but I did anyway just because I can. We talked for less than 5 minutes and I knew he was not on my level. Nowhere near my level in fact. He asked to see me and I stuttered, stammered and otherwise stalled for time. Why couldn't I just say never like I usually do? A part of me was concerned that I might hurt his feelings or damage his ego. The other part of me couldn't figure out why I gave a damn. I'm used to hurting folks' feelings and damaging egos....with nary a care. Again, this newfound conscientiousness must be a sure sign of my grown and maturity. At any rate, I never gave dude a straight answer (not very mature of me) so he sent me a text message a couple days later. I gave him some line and he seemed to be satisfied because I've not heard from in two days. Maybe I haven't matured as much as I'd like to think.

On to other things. I once had this very very very good friend. We'll call him...Johnny. Johnny and I were down like four flat tires, I mean we were tight. I loved him fa sho, he was my ace. Well Johnny got involved with this woman and I was really really happy for him. I knew he loved her before he would admit it to himself. It made me happy to see him happy. Well after a while things started going awry. Johnny told me things about his ladylove that raised some red flags for me. Though I tried to remain impartial and optimistic for his sake, I quickly got to a point where I could no longer remain silent. First and foremost this young lady failed the test. Yeah "The Test". She didn't reach over and unlock his door (nor open it). I have never failed the test. That's just not something that a woman who is supposedly in love with a man would fail to do. Anyway, Johnny told me some other things about his ladylove that really distressed me and I soon started telling him to kick her to the curb. That was my first mistake...opening my big mouth. Soon after I made the mistake of withdrawing from him when he reached out to me. Yeah, I'm a selfish cad. I was having my own issues at the time and just couldn't see past my own shit. Needless to say, Johnny and I drifted apart. Now over the course of several months Johnny and I got back on speaking terms, we talked, laughed and shot the shit but it was never the same. It soon got to the point where he did most of the calling, he always asked me to hang out, etc. I put forth no effort to "fix us". Now in my own defense I must say that I was dealing with a struggle in my personal life (a 5'11" chocolate poured over steel struggle named "O"). I just didn't prioritize me and Johnny's friendship. I wish I had. Today, largely due to my self-centeredness, Johnny and I don't really speak at all. I miss him and the rapport we used to have. I've tried to repair the damage but alas, I think it is irreparable. I've thus been relegated to the forward list in his e-mail addy book and my calls go unanswered and for the most part unreturned. I can't say I'm surprised, angry or undeserving of this treatment though... because I so am. I sure do miss Johnny though. Damn, I seem to be preoccupied with men don't I, lol? What can I say, the more things change the more they stay the same.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Something is wrong with me (Originally posted 2-7-06)

I mean just really wrong. Today I went from feeling nothing at all to feeling enraged...all in 0-10 seconds. That is not normal. Over the past few weeks I have felt no sadness, not much anger (except when I was stuck in traffic or speaking to my ex-husband), not much joy (though I was in pretty good spirits or at least I put on an act so good I fooled everyone, myself included)....just not feeling much of anything. I've not really been in the mood to write, haven't really put forth any effort to communicate with anyone...I kinda feel like a zombie. I've just been walking around doing what needs to be done but not really enjoying any of it. I've not had many complaints other than being horny and not wanting to fuck anyone from my past nor put effort into meeting someone new.

Is this what depression feels like? Am I depressed? I don't feel depressed. I'm not having thoughts of death or suicide. I am bored out of my mind and thinking there has to be more to life than this humdrum though. 10 minutes ago I was so angry I wanted to just go out and fuck somebody up with my aluminum Louisville Slugger. No one in particular, just whomever happened to cross my path. But as quickly as the impulse was born, so it expired. Yeah, something is really wrong with me. My creative drive is gone. I feel like everything I've written thus far has been a fluke. That pisses me off. I am fucking frustrated. I have lost my voice. See, there I go again with the anger. Sometimes I feel like I'm in one of those hamster/gerbil/guinea pig wheels....just going round and round and round but  not really going any-fucking-where. Add that annoying ass squeaking noise to the equation. That is my conundrum.

I have no idea what transpired in my life over the past two months to drive me to this place. I've tried to reflect but I'm sorely lacking the patience to do so. Even writing this entry is taxing my patience. I am slipping in and out of anger....and it's all because I cannot pinpoint the cause of my distress. Maybe I'm crazy. Yeah, I’ve lost my natural mind. Someone call the men with the white coat so they can lock my cuckoo ass up in a padded white room. I read somewhere that crazy people don’t doubt their sanity. Does that mean I’m perfectly sane, because I doubt the hell out of my sanity sometimes. 

It just occurred to me that I have lost more friends in the past 6 months than I’ve made over the past 2 years. Isn’t that something? I’ve lost them because I’ve either said some out of pocket shit to them or because I’ve been negligent about keeping in touch with them. I’m bad at nurturing relationships. I fear commitment (any type of commitment) like virgin gay boys fear the general population at a maximum security prison. Their assholes and my heart could be potentially ripped apart. Now that’s a color metaphor for that ass, lol. I’m spent now. I’ve been writing this blog for the past 4 hours and all I have is 3 measly paragraphs. Now is the time for mental diarrhea…too bad I’m constipated.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Bedtime Story (Originally posted 1-13-06 but still relevant today)

Once there was a cat and a scorpion sitting on a riverbank. The scorpion asked the cat to carry him across the river because he couldn't swim. The cat said, "No, I won't carry you across the river, you're a scorpion, you'll sting me and kill me". The scorpion assured the cat that he wouldn't sting her, so the cat agrees to carry the scorpion across the river. The scorpion climbs on the cat's back and they start across the river. Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the cat and the cat screams out in pain, "You fool, now we're both going to drown and die, why did you sting me?" The scorpion said, "I'm a scorpion, I can't help myself". 

I gave the scorpion a ride even though I knew he was going to sting me and kill me, so I effectively killed myself. I'm not sure how many more lives I have but I do know I'm tired of dying.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Today's Advice

Develop emotional diarrhea and let that shit GO! Just let it go! Emotional repression is poison to the body, mind and spirit. Don't believe me? Look around you. So many of us are walking wounded, nursing years old pain with insufficient mental compresses and bandages. Just let it go. Aren't you tired? Aren't you weary? Reach out! Why be afraid to need someone? Why be afraid to speak? Give voice to that pain and LET IT GO! It's 2009 soon to be 2010, cut the bullshit. It's time y''s time.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Hurt, but not as hurt as Trent Reznor (Originally posted 1-8-06)

I was reading the blog of one of my Sistah Associates and a song was playing. I don't know the name of the song but it reminded me of Hurt by Nine Inch Nails. Hurt is my wallow song. When I'm mad at the world or just feeling sick and tired, I play Hurt and it reminds me that my life is a beautiful struggle and I wouldn't have it any other way. It also serves as a warning not to wallow too long....the blues ain't no joke for some folks. Poor poor tortured Trent Reznor. Here are the lyrics if you're so inclined to read them:


I hurt myself today
to see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
the only thing that's real
the needle tears a hole
the old familiar sting
try to kill it all away
but I remember everything

what have I become?
my sweetest friend
everyone I know
goes away in the end
you could have it all
my empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of shit
upon my liar's chair
full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
beneath the stains of time
the feeling disappear
you are someone else
I am still right here

what have I become?
my sweetest friend
everyone I know
goes away in the end

you could have it all
my empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
if I could start again
a million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

Although I know that the Universe is conspiring with my energy to manifest things for my highest good, I still get stuck on bullshit sometimes. I am thinking of the disappointments I've experienced over the past few days. I opened myself up to a lot of it by going against my better judgment, but I also realize the world is populated by many low-life ass people. I'm angry, I'm kind of sad, I'm tired, I haven't been sleeping well, I've put on 6 pounds, for the first time in over a month I didn't get a parking space on my block, etc. A whole bunch of insignificant shit is combining to contribute to a fantastically bad mood.

I asked Oya for change and she is handing it to my ass alright. I asked Orunmila for increased intuition...but so far I've not heeded it. I asked Chango and Ogun to protect me from those who would cause me feelings were hurt this weekend but I'll live. I asked Obatala to make me pure like his white cloth...I've been thinking dirty thoughts all day. I asked my ancestors for guidance...I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. I asked Yemaya to shower me with her motherly love and she sent me to a women's worshop (that need was fulfilled). I asked Ochun to send me love...the jury is still out on that request. I know that I have to give these things time to manifest but I've also just realized that I have to work to get them. I have to cultivate myself, listen to my Ori (my higher self), love myself and most importantly be patient. 

I have work to do. Fuck stagnation. Strong language makes me feel stronger.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

How to kill a man (Originally posted 12-22-05)

Tell him that while you were having sex with him you were pretending he was someone else. Tell him you were pretending he was your 5 years dead soul mate. That's what I did tonight. I killed a man tonight. I am a cold, cruel, heartless, evil, insensitive cretin. A part of me hates what I did to "O" tonight but a part of me feels he deserved what he got. I loved his selfish ass and gave him the best of me and he thanked me by shitting all over me. One good shit deserves another right? Wrong. Two wrongs just equals wrong squared. Karma is going to kick my ass for this. "O" may be a selfish rat fink bastard but he was honest about being a selfish rat fink bastard. I destroyed a piece of him tonight with my little revelation. That man loved me in his own way but because he didn't give me what I wanted how I wanted it, I crucified him. He hates me now. He won't speak to me. He told me never to contact him again. I think he means it this time too. I fucked up, I mean really fucked up. I've said some really horrible things to him before and he always forgave me...after a while, but this time I went too far.  I'm sad now. He has a bad heart and high cholesterol. I would hate for him to....leave and we have bad blood between us. How do I make it right? I am so sorry.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

I stopped writing....

Because words weren't enough.
They couldn't capture my aches, pains, joys, triumphs.
I thought my tears, screams and laughter were enough.
But they weren't.
I stopped writing.
Because I thought my words had fled.
I thought all the consonants, verbs, syllables and similes were lying dead inside of me.
Try as I might...I just could not write.
Each attempt to scribe my angels and demons felt like a pleasure to be found.
So I stopped writing.
And when I stopped writing, my voice locked up.
I suffocated my dreams, silenced everything in me that reached and strived.
When I stopped writing...I didn't even feel alive.
And I choked on everything that I imprisoned inside of me.
Thoughts bled into oblivion.
Ideas gestated but were stillborn.
All because...

But today I will type it out.
I will resume exhuming these figurative bones with my pen until once again...
I start writing.
And this time...
I won't stop.
I won't ever stop writing again.

He pretends... (Originally posted 12-19-05)

He pretends he doesn't love me but I know he does. I see right through his charade. He thinks about me so much he can't stand it. He says to me, "you make me sick, I can't stop thinking about you, I don't want you in my head." But in his head I remain. I gave him something other women couldn't: unconditional love. Or perhaps that's my ego speaking? He's a selfish bastard. He's judgmental, egotistical, self-absorbed, much like me. That's why we get along so well. I make him laugh. I make him feel like a man. But I also remind him that he's not nearly man enough. For that he despises me. He loves me and hates me. I find that amusing.

When I was lonely and needed a hug he came to me. It was almost 3 in the morning. I told him that sex was out of the question. Head, even more out of the question. I just needed to be held. He sounded disappointed but was still willing to come and hold me. I asked him if he'd ever had intimacy without sex. He said he'd had intimacy that led to sex. I found that amusing too. He is the only man that I have ever slept with on the first date. I swear I had no intention of doing that, I swear that on everything....but it happened. Here's how it happened......

Our first "date" was almost  a year ago. The late afternoon saw us at ESPN Zone downtown (Chicago). It was a bitterly cold day and The Hawk was screaming around buildings, tearing at our jackets, faces and hands. As we walked he kept his arms around me. He also made sure he walked on the outside...always. Such the perfect gentleman. He smelled HEAVENLY. He looked like 20,000 tons of temptation packed into a 5 foot 11 inch, 179 pound chocolate demi god's frame. Just...yummy. We got our table, ordered our refreshments and proceeded to watch the Colts rip some other team apart. How I love Peyton Manning. He is scientific with it. But I digress. During the course of the game I had 2 double Amaretto Stone Sours. They were horribly watered down so I didn't get buzzed...or did I? Perhaps that contributed to my loose behavior?

The details are kinda fuzzy here...I'm pretty sure he suggested that we go back to his place and watch another game. Since I was in no hurry to leave his presence, I agreed. We went back to his place and got comfy on the couch and that's when the Itis started to set in and I grew drowsy. I recall lying across his lap and I may even have dosed off. He has a huge, comfy, ultrasuede sectional sofa. He stroked my neck. God, his hand felt so good. Me on him, him stroking me, us on that couch, slightly dim lights, very felt slightly...cocoon-ish. Somehow, despite my semi-coma I became conscious enough to know that I needed to leave. The temptation that I'd felt earlier was back and pounding on my nerve endings, screeching in my loins and tweaking my nipples...something was going to jump off if I didn't dash through that door and quickly. So I jumped to my feet, startling him and stammering out excuses about it being late and me being tired. I needed to leave.

He looked disappointed but didn't try to dissuade me. I shrugged into my jacket as he walked out of the living room. I thought it odd that he wasn't going to walk me to the door but oh well. As I was about to make my way to the door he returned to the room with his hands behind his back and a smile decorating his beautiful lips. Damn, why must he look so good, I thought to myself. He told me he had a surprise for me. I had to close my eyes and touch one of his hands. Whichever hand I touched contained my surprise so I needed to choose wisely. This was fun. I picked the left and he gave me Mos Def's latest cd. From our many talks, he knew I'd been wanting it and I thought it sweet that he remembered. In the hand I hadn't chosen was Talib Qweli's latest. Awwww shucks. I still picked a good one though. I was so pleased that I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. Why did I kiss him on the cheek? That scent, that hard body, that warmth....seduction at its finest. We looked into one another's eyes...I know it sounds cliche, but we did. I was enraptured...he was too. We couldn't look away and our lips  couldn't stay away. They met and from there it was over for me.........

He kept me up and going ALL NIGHT that Mary Jane Girls song. Every time I tried to leave he'd pull me back for more. I didn't leave until late the next afternoon...even then he was hesitant to let me go. I didn't want to leave but I knew I should. And I did. From that day forward though, we were almost inseparable.

I've aroused myself by stirring up this pot of memories. I wonder if he'd come tonight if I called him? Probably not. He's vowed not to have sex with me ever again. He says I'm too distracting and it takes too long for him to recover. Truth is, he just can't handle me. Aside from all that...we're just friends. For now.