Thursday, February 28, 2013
Luciferous Beyonce
This is on a friend's facebook page. I would like opinions. I don't know how many people read this and are willing to comment but at least I put it up. The only thing that has been changed is the names for privacy matters. ______________________________________________________________________________________
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Expansion Pack Memories
Do you remember being 18? I have fragmented memories of the time. The hardest thing that happened was I lost the only pet I could claim as mine. It was hard for me because I did not know my father; I did not have anyone to show me how to cope or talk me through it, so I played it by ear. I was hurt, she was my best friend...that dog...Delilah. Before that, there were other things that I noticed.
I had never had a pet all to myself. I got to train her and spend most of my time with her. I was such a young idiot. I'd beat the dog for being a dog. I didn't know any better. But one time, I went to get her and she hid in a pricker bush. That shit hurt my soul heavy. That moment served as the seed for the kindness I've come to cherish since. If it wasn't for that moment, I may be no better than some of these extra-masculine, thugs on steroids. I'd probably be dead with a gun in my hand. A memory myself.
That's how simple minded I was. I had a strong sense of right and wrong. Righteous in terms of authority when I was authority. My absolute-ness corrupted me. At a time I most wanted to be an officer of the law. Now, I bash law officers for their corruption with an anticipated fervor. I say this because I was horribly simple and I believe law men(in general) share this feature with young me.
IDK why I was so....empty but I knew what they taught in schools and barely that because I didn't study. I knew video games for whatever I could play of the ones I borrowed. I was a jock because I trained all year. So, I never was anything really exceptional outside of track. I was a bunch of halfway there identities. That really hurt me in my 20's. It crippled me in every direction I went. In my 18 year old head, this was a primary reason for attracting the attention of bullies. I held so much bitterness for the bullying that I had endured or who I had become to survive the bullying. I dealt with it as best I knew. I learned to preempt the bullies; even groups of them. I showed no fear and they would hesitate & balk. It was weird because of how underwhelming my presence was being lighter than the lot of them. There were a few times I got chased but I was so fast that it was easy.
That's were my confidence comes from...from fighting my own battles my own way. I needed a mentor. But my older brother got locked up on bogus charges because he wanted to play a serious game and held the no snitch policy. The DA fucked him over for it. Accomplice liability. Look it up, it was some bullshit. He was the closest thing I had to an example and he was violent, bubbling with temper tantrums and most of all a renegade. He's calmed a lot...still "him" though.
That age, I needed a ton of tutelage and I had no idea what to read to improve myself, so I read the dictionary. I read the encyclopedia. I had determined that I didn't want to be anything like anyone who read the Bible, although I still went to church and found nothing but judgment. I needed guidance. And all of the anger and resentment at what I could have been is still my fault...my responsibility. People on the outside looked at me and saw a kid that could manage through the storm on his lonely. I managed but I shouldn't have. I should have spoken up at how much it hurt to be me. Emotions are real pain. I wanted to hurt someone else, badly. When I finally hurt that dog, the person I hurt most was me. I said fuck it. I asked myself some hard questions. "What is this pain?" was the only real question I needed to ask myself. I knew the dog loved me. But why would she run from me? I began to sculpt the opinion that hitting was no good way to discipline. BUT IT WAS WHAT I KNEW.
I looked to the only culture I felt familiar with. I delved deeper into Japanese(since I was learning it as a language). I stumbled into martial arts and acquired a book on Judo(the gentle way). My life was changed.
My family was super poor back then. Arguments every night. I was more of an adult than I was a child. Not that I had to work but the agony would have been less, if I had worked. Being at home created a comfort with toxicity. I managed bullies. Parents can be bullies. So, if I ever felt the parenting had gone to far, I would snap back. I would melt my adversaries with fact and precedent. They swore I was going to grow up to be a lawyer. Fuck that. Juris deez nutz, bitch. I was proud they saw something great in me when all I saw in myself was demons and despair. Although, I was never suicidal. I just wanted to bloom.
For all the knowledge I held, people assumed that common sense was something that everyone learned at once. That pissed me off. I could not hear with their ears. I could not eat with their mouths. I could not see with their eyes. My hunger & ignorance was treated as a sin and I was chided for being responsible in one way rather than nurtured. That shit made me mean as fuck. Bullies stopped trying to gang up on me...they stopped fucking with me altogether. In fact, I became popular because people thought I was smart. I wasn't well rounded at all. I had a growing social anxiety; a fear of crowds from the bullying. I thought I was ugly and too skinny for anyone to love. I thought there was no way that I'd live beyond the age of 21 and certainly not 25. The world I lived in only supported that bigotry based understanding of reality. Tupac, the most famous Black man I had ever seen, didn't make it beyond 25; what could I hope for? That was so deeply seated in my thoughts that until I was 25 I believed it.
I'm not blaming anyone or holding them responsible and this certainly isn't a poe pity me rant but I've been through the blender a few times. I have grown to disregard speech of intelligence and find myself absolutely bewildered when I speak on that subject matter. I scored a 1080 on my SATs, retook them only to score an 1120. I refused to study for them. I was arrogant. Only scored better the second time around because I had a stupid white friend who scored an 1140; boy did he brag. But that is indicative of how dense I was. I only valued physical practice. My mentality was sabotaged.
I hear people slander things that held me together, Tupac was one of those things. He gave me positive references for passive pursuits of understanding. His imprint helped me want to love people beyond a reason. (Cartoons did their part, no doubt. Always with the heroic "turn the cheek" representations). Yet, people swore he was so negative and such a problem. I hate sheeple for this reason. Make you own mind up. Stop being stupid. I had reasons, I had little guidance and didn't know how to use the resources available to me. That shit changed when I got a job. People began to love on me and I accepted it because I was so naive. They would randomly gift me tidbits here and there that helped me flesh out my ignorance. It helped me grow to a somewhat intelligent man. I truly understand what it means to come from the bottom because I see how much different my intelligence is compared to what it was and how pitiful my peers were. None of it had to be that way. I'm am in by no intent saying I was unarmed with wits, just that compared to a straightforward education, mine was filled with fairy tales and silliness of prophesied greatness. But that was me at 18.
And I look at these kids today and how much shit they get flipped for being young and dumb; the derision they face makes absolutely no sense. It was like me, beating that dog because it was the only thing I knew. The only difference is that even ignorant little me was wise enough to stop doing the bad things because I allowed myself to feel what my victim felt. I stopped attacking because of that. These are adults railing against pubescent egos. I don't think other people take enough time to reflect on how blessed they were. These are reasons I line up to cape for those who cannot defend themselves. Even when I could defend myself, I couldn't.
I had never had a pet all to myself. I got to train her and spend most of my time with her. I was such a young idiot. I'd beat the dog for being a dog. I didn't know any better. But one time, I went to get her and she hid in a pricker bush. That shit hurt my soul heavy. That moment served as the seed for the kindness I've come to cherish since. If it wasn't for that moment, I may be no better than some of these extra-masculine, thugs on steroids. I'd probably be dead with a gun in my hand. A memory myself.
That's how simple minded I was. I had a strong sense of right and wrong. Righteous in terms of authority when I was authority. My absolute-ness corrupted me. At a time I most wanted to be an officer of the law. Now, I bash law officers for their corruption with an anticipated fervor. I say this because I was horribly simple and I believe law men(in general) share this feature with young me.
IDK why I was so....empty but I knew what they taught in schools and barely that because I didn't study. I knew video games for whatever I could play of the ones I borrowed. I was a jock because I trained all year. So, I never was anything really exceptional outside of track. I was a bunch of halfway there identities. That really hurt me in my 20's. It crippled me in every direction I went. In my 18 year old head, this was a primary reason for attracting the attention of bullies. I held so much bitterness for the bullying that I had endured or who I had become to survive the bullying. I dealt with it as best I knew. I learned to preempt the bullies; even groups of them. I showed no fear and they would hesitate & balk. It was weird because of how underwhelming my presence was being lighter than the lot of them. There were a few times I got chased but I was so fast that it was easy.
That's were my confidence comes from...from fighting my own battles my own way. I needed a mentor. But my older brother got locked up on bogus charges because he wanted to play a serious game and held the no snitch policy. The DA fucked him over for it. Accomplice liability. Look it up, it was some bullshit. He was the closest thing I had to an example and he was violent, bubbling with temper tantrums and most of all a renegade. He's calmed a lot...still "him" though.
That age, I needed a ton of tutelage and I had no idea what to read to improve myself, so I read the dictionary. I read the encyclopedia. I had determined that I didn't want to be anything like anyone who read the Bible, although I still went to church and found nothing but judgment. I needed guidance. And all of the anger and resentment at what I could have been is still my fault...my responsibility. People on the outside looked at me and saw a kid that could manage through the storm on his lonely. I managed but I shouldn't have. I should have spoken up at how much it hurt to be me. Emotions are real pain. I wanted to hurt someone else, badly. When I finally hurt that dog, the person I hurt most was me. I said fuck it. I asked myself some hard questions. "What is this pain?" was the only real question I needed to ask myself. I knew the dog loved me. But why would she run from me? I began to sculpt the opinion that hitting was no good way to discipline. BUT IT WAS WHAT I KNEW.
I looked to the only culture I felt familiar with. I delved deeper into Japanese(since I was learning it as a language). I stumbled into martial arts and acquired a book on Judo(the gentle way). My life was changed.
My family was super poor back then. Arguments every night. I was more of an adult than I was a child. Not that I had to work but the agony would have been less, if I had worked. Being at home created a comfort with toxicity. I managed bullies. Parents can be bullies. So, if I ever felt the parenting had gone to far, I would snap back. I would melt my adversaries with fact and precedent. They swore I was going to grow up to be a lawyer. Fuck that. Juris deez nutz, bitch. I was proud they saw something great in me when all I saw in myself was demons and despair. Although, I was never suicidal. I just wanted to bloom.
For all the knowledge I held, people assumed that common sense was something that everyone learned at once. That pissed me off. I could not hear with their ears. I could not eat with their mouths. I could not see with their eyes. My hunger & ignorance was treated as a sin and I was chided for being responsible in one way rather than nurtured. That shit made me mean as fuck. Bullies stopped trying to gang up on me...they stopped fucking with me altogether. In fact, I became popular because people thought I was smart. I wasn't well rounded at all. I had a growing social anxiety; a fear of crowds from the bullying. I thought I was ugly and too skinny for anyone to love. I thought there was no way that I'd live beyond the age of 21 and certainly not 25. The world I lived in only supported that bigotry based understanding of reality. Tupac, the most famous Black man I had ever seen, didn't make it beyond 25; what could I hope for? That was so deeply seated in my thoughts that until I was 25 I believed it.
I'm not blaming anyone or holding them responsible and this certainly isn't a poe pity me rant but I've been through the blender a few times. I have grown to disregard speech of intelligence and find myself absolutely bewildered when I speak on that subject matter. I scored a 1080 on my SATs, retook them only to score an 1120. I refused to study for them. I was arrogant. Only scored better the second time around because I had a stupid white friend who scored an 1140; boy did he brag. But that is indicative of how dense I was. I only valued physical practice. My mentality was sabotaged.
I hear people slander things that held me together, Tupac was one of those things. He gave me positive references for passive pursuits of understanding. His imprint helped me want to love people beyond a reason. (Cartoons did their part, no doubt. Always with the heroic "turn the cheek" representations). Yet, people swore he was so negative and such a problem. I hate sheeple for this reason. Make you own mind up. Stop being stupid. I had reasons, I had little guidance and didn't know how to use the resources available to me. That shit changed when I got a job. People began to love on me and I accepted it because I was so naive. They would randomly gift me tidbits here and there that helped me flesh out my ignorance. It helped me grow to a somewhat intelligent man. I truly understand what it means to come from the bottom because I see how much different my intelligence is compared to what it was and how pitiful my peers were. None of it had to be that way. I'm am in by no intent saying I was unarmed with wits, just that compared to a straightforward education, mine was filled with fairy tales and silliness of prophesied greatness. But that was me at 18.
And I look at these kids today and how much shit they get flipped for being young and dumb; the derision they face makes absolutely no sense. It was like me, beating that dog because it was the only thing I knew. The only difference is that even ignorant little me was wise enough to stop doing the bad things because I allowed myself to feel what my victim felt. I stopped attacking because of that. These are adults railing against pubescent egos. I don't think other people take enough time to reflect on how blessed they were. These are reasons I line up to cape for those who cannot defend themselves. Even when I could defend myself, I couldn't.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
The Better I Feel The More I Remember All The Shit I Know.
Alright...what's wrong?
Sunlight filters through the shades, it's one of them shiny days that you refuse to indulge in sunshine.
You turn and flick the television on like you just don't want to be alone. Your behavior is as if you want to be lost in purposeless preoccupation. Nothing doing. You're really just looking for ways to feel sorry for yourself. A personal pity party of bad memories and junk food combined with no physical activity. Get up. Let's go out.
Who doesn't have remorse? We could call it regret but that's such a charged word. Regret is such a shame inducing, guilt soaked term that people either embrace and think little of themselves for doing so or disregard and disavow anything commonly related. Shut up; don't talk back. Get up & let's go out.
It's time to take advantage of the miracles in moving about. You seem to have forgotten that the human life is a miracle. The human body is something that recharges and repairs itself. The amazing qualities should be greater than any temporary sadness. Grow a bad memory where it matters. Forget what troubles you and allow yourself some pleasure. You are the only thing standing "in" between your thrills. Get off the couch...no don't go to the bed...stay out of the kitchen...c'mon, stop playing. Get up. We're going to go out.
It doesn't matter what you wear; be eclectic and dishevel your hair. Put on some bright colors and mix-n-match. Nobody cares. Well, there are some that do and many who won't because many have problems you'll be glad that you don't. So shut up and get ready, you can go out with that smell, what they hell. Nobody will complain; if they do, just act like they're insane. Get up, it's time to go out.
Gee, does not the sun shining fill you with warmth? The air, stagnant and polluted is still a reason to rejoice. It is said that the air quality is much worse inside and if you sit down for ten hours a day, then in two years you'll die. You don't want that; you know better in your mind.
Run about playing with the pets of this world. Pick flowers, eat food, swim through water, grow wood...fuck is being said...just make it do what it do.
Sunlight filters through the shades, it's one of them shiny days that you refuse to indulge in sunshine.
You turn and flick the television on like you just don't want to be alone. Your behavior is as if you want to be lost in purposeless preoccupation. Nothing doing. You're really just looking for ways to feel sorry for yourself. A personal pity party of bad memories and junk food combined with no physical activity. Get up. Let's go out.
Who doesn't have remorse? We could call it regret but that's such a charged word. Regret is such a shame inducing, guilt soaked term that people either embrace and think little of themselves for doing so or disregard and disavow anything commonly related. Shut up; don't talk back. Get up & let's go out.
It's time to take advantage of the miracles in moving about. You seem to have forgotten that the human life is a miracle. The human body is something that recharges and repairs itself. The amazing qualities should be greater than any temporary sadness. Grow a bad memory where it matters. Forget what troubles you and allow yourself some pleasure. You are the only thing standing "in" between your thrills. Get off the couch...no don't go to the bed...stay out of the kitchen...c'mon, stop playing. Get up. We're going to go out.
It doesn't matter what you wear; be eclectic and dishevel your hair. Put on some bright colors and mix-n-match. Nobody cares. Well, there are some that do and many who won't because many have problems you'll be glad that you don't. So shut up and get ready, you can go out with that smell, what they hell. Nobody will complain; if they do, just act like they're insane. Get up, it's time to go out.
Gee, does not the sun shining fill you with warmth? The air, stagnant and polluted is still a reason to rejoice. It is said that the air quality is much worse inside and if you sit down for ten hours a day, then in two years you'll die. You don't want that; you know better in your mind.
Run about playing with the pets of this world. Pick flowers, eat food, swim through water, grow wood...fuck is being said...just make it do what it do.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Why do I type when I'm sleepy?
Ever since I began this "blogging", I used it as a sort of open journal. At moments where I had trouble coping with my desires & frustrations, I turned to my blog and just unloaded a fusillade of emotions into the words. The many ricochets and divots etch a sort of permanence to my pains. It also gave me the ability to look back and see how well or how poorly I handled my emotion. It helped me see what I was in order to help me guide myself into being what I wanted to be. I think that sort of reflection is beautiful.
Some of it was in a joking fashion but I really don't do that too well. I'm constantly joking but people really have a hard time knowing that. My anger...idk...there's no permanence to it. Sometimes I need to dig deep to even be capable of expressing it. I spend very little time angry. I spend very little time sad. I spend most of my time confused. Not trying to define how I feel and really just sort of soldier through it. But I also don't invest much in these random moments where I express my thoughts. People put far too much importance into meaningless words.
With all of this, I haven't felt the need to cry through my keyboard since a few weeks after the break up. I've tried to use inspiration and it has helped me to type a bit. Unfortunately, I've been developing a bad habit of wanting to type while I'm exhausted and my eyes are closing. I've fallen asleep typing up each of my last few posts over the last few months. I get warm and distant and just fade to silence and peace.
In the last month since I've added followers to my twitter(Approximately 80), I've gotten a slightly different bit of traffic. A bit more interest from people who haven't quite yet normalized to me. That's cool. It makes me want to refine my online presence and keep interests churning. I do not think I have the energy for that. I like my informal ways...and I know I'd prefer the more visitors and the greater interests yet this ego keeps comforting me; telling me everything that I love hearing. That just tells me that my youth is still overloading my ass and I haven't grown enough to move forward in life despite how much I yearn to move forward.
I refuse to ruminate on the issues. I pledge to keep the forward motion. What else can I do? I can't change the reality by lying. The truth is that I am where I am and that's it. All of my plans and all my past mean nothing to people who judge you on simple truths. Cool. And while they listening to the red flag warning of a stereotype I've become, I'm making plans to insure my future is a tremendous success. I leave the skepticism and doubt to those who need religion to understand faith. I don't nor did I.
Even with this anesthetized approach to writing, I feel like I'm making progress and going through the stages. Judge me...who cares...we all live different lives. Maybe your judgment is what it takes to make me realize that I ain't worth anything to anyone until I move on. LOL. One's trash is always another's treasure. Always. A few do treasure me and it's odd but encouraging. It is nurturing. I appreciate those people the most. Critical people can block themselves. I really couldn't care less. You rock with me or don't...I ain't missing any beats without you. All in all, it's all love.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
A Cute Fuckin' Puppy
From ask.fm, someone posed the question "Do you want a robot or a puppy". I found that question off putting. I went back to read what I had composed. I did not remember. I was drunk with the moment; no substance.
Anyway, I read what I had typed and thought with bewildered paces "what is so off?". I need to remember that these people don't really "feel" my charm through these typed words.
So, here's the difference: a robot would be completely programmed and there would be no acceptable flex of personality. A puppy can have its personality but must be obedient. Dogs are companions and tools, they are surrogates for presence(especially if it is big enough). I have a puppy; she is sweet as hell and obedient to match. She's a wonderful bitch. I don't want my woman obedient or robotic. I want her to have a rich history of reasonable decisions and experiences. I want her to have lived her single life as far as she felt the need. I want her to understand that she can continually attempt to set fire to the bridge we built and expect me to put that fire out. I expect her to bring the materials to build the bridge or the expertise and effort or split each with me. I don't want another creature waiting on me to produce, produce & produce. I don't need that. No man needs that. I don't want that. What man wants that?
Perhaps, I responded too seriously but somethings are redundant like women telling me that my standards are too strict. Oh? you want me to be like every other dude and just want someone prettier than you, sexier than you, smarter than you, richer than you, more chaste than you? Naw, I'm me. I don't want a slut because I ain't no slut. I don't want anything greater than what I bring...but even though I said that, it was disregarded. Ah...I am too sincere. These words sound a great deal more serious than the tone in my head. But it is serious to me. It is a charge against my character and everything I stand for is rooted in these words. This is about my preference and it speaks volumes about my thoughts. And that was attacked...criticized as unrealistic. I am setting that record straight - tone deaf or not.
-Out-
Anyway, I read what I had typed and thought with bewildered paces "what is so off?". I need to remember that these people don't really "feel" my charm through these typed words.
So, here's the difference: a robot would be completely programmed and there would be no acceptable flex of personality. A puppy can have its personality but must be obedient. Dogs are companions and tools, they are surrogates for presence(especially if it is big enough). I have a puppy; she is sweet as hell and obedient to match. She's a wonderful bitch. I don't want my woman obedient or robotic. I want her to have a rich history of reasonable decisions and experiences. I want her to have lived her single life as far as she felt the need. I want her to understand that she can continually attempt to set fire to the bridge we built and expect me to put that fire out. I expect her to bring the materials to build the bridge or the expertise and effort or split each with me. I don't want another creature waiting on me to produce, produce & produce. I don't need that. No man needs that. I don't want that. What man wants that?
Perhaps, I responded too seriously but somethings are redundant like women telling me that my standards are too strict. Oh? you want me to be like every other dude and just want someone prettier than you, sexier than you, smarter than you, richer than you, more chaste than you? Naw, I'm me. I don't want a slut because I ain't no slut. I don't want anything greater than what I bring...but even though I said that, it was disregarded. Ah...I am too sincere. These words sound a great deal more serious than the tone in my head. But it is serious to me. It is a charge against my character and everything I stand for is rooted in these words. This is about my preference and it speaks volumes about my thoughts. And that was attacked...criticized as unrealistic. I am setting that record straight - tone deaf or not.
-Out-
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Valentines & Standards
Who exactly likes these "hallmark holidays"? All of the social pressures to have "someone special" to spend money and time on, when these days roll around. A person that is completely okay with you jumping on the social network of your choice and exclaiming proudly, the pure awesomeness of your bliss, if only for one day. Of course, there are those of us who have standards.
I'd like to take this opportunity to share my standard(updated) of engagement. Don't mind me, I'll pretend like I got inspired and started talking to the mirror about what kind of woman I most desire.
Hello there. How are you feelin' about yourself today? Okay? Cool. Well, I just wanted to let you know that we have had to revise and update the list of qualities that we expect a woman to have before we confess an interest in her for future purposes. I know, this sounds weird and it feels weird. But there is a purpose, so chill yaself and just get through this.
Money, is not important beyond the necessities. However, she should feel very similar to me in this regard or I will have a hard time tolerating her perspective because it will forever be compromised by a fundamental weakness in the global feminine opinion. She will need her intelligence at a level that allows her security & comfort-ability with what she knows & does not know. Religion does not bother me any but I will not be subject to her beliefs nor will I be disrespected on some outdated perspective because she cannot cope with the actions she's taken of her very own volition. She should be able to cook at least as well as I can cook, non negotiable. Height and weight are not set in stone but having some form of constant physical activity. I don't want to date someone under 4'9" as it makes me feel like a pedophile. I don't want to date anyone around 5'10" or taller - 5'9" is pushing it. Skin color does not matter and she does not need to be well versed in Black history BUT she cannot have reckless perspectives of or pertaining to Blacks. I don't give a fuck about the statistics(There are tv programs propagating the misinformation of White efforts to build this country of the U.S.. Sure, they had ideas but they didn't do the work. Flip it around now, and the Whites still have the ideas but it's criminal and the Blacks do the grunt work -again- but this time the Blacks ARE given credit. It is such a fickle, hypocritical and bigoted system that Blacks can't get credit/paid for the good works while being demonized and blamed for all the bad work. Nobody gets to have it both ways and if she cannot understand that...then we cannot be compatible).
Kids don't bother me. However, if she isn't giving them adequate parenting and desires that I handle my relationship with them, then she loses 90% of the say in how I respond to that child. You don't get to have an untrained life and get upset when someone disciplines that life. That is unreasonable and would eliminate her from viability.
She should want to be better tomorrow than she was today. She shouldn't mind honest criticism as much as she should mind the blind denial of what caused the criticism in the first place. And these are only parts...portions of who I am and the qualities I bring. There is still a tremendous amount of room for flaws and quirks but a certain maturity and patience is required or we cannot even hold a conversation too long. And I'm alright with that. I'd rather be alone & lonely than be with a woman-child. Anyway, guy in the mirror, I'm tired of typing about this topic for now....maybe I'll refine and redefine this odd little list later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)