It would be a lie if I said I never think of death.
I think about her daily almost more than life itself.
I wonder where I might go, if anywhere at all.
Do we rot beneath the ground or do we simply fall?
Fall forever into nothingness, like a bottomless pit.
In absolute darkness, inside a firey abyss.
Do we instead rise above the clouds, and the stars and everything we know?
Rise to be reunited with those we love or are we still alone.
It would be a lie, if I said I never think of love
I think about her daily almost more than life itself.
I wonder can my heart contain her, or is she just a myth.
I muse, will I ever find her, is she lost beyond the mist.
Is she a prize that I must win, or something only given as a gift.
And if I ever found her, could I keep her for myself?
or his she forbidden treasure something only found in death.
Monday, October 26, 2009
It's been so long ago, its almost like a dream.
I just see flashes, short-lived glimpses of what we used to be.
Its been a long time since I touched you or held you in my calloused hands. Ive been alone for such a time, I wouldnt expect you to understand. I have learned to be alone, a hard and usefull skill. It makes me exempt from love; Its easier to seperate the fiegned from whats real. Relying soley on myself, I no longer have to trust. However all my treasures mold and all the riches rust. But I am free from smiles and tears and Im not a slave to anneversaries. Im not bound by Hallmark cards nor by cries from an infants nursery. There are no boring weddings to attend, no reunions to show up to. No happiness to strive for, and no long list of things to do.
I am master of my domain, there's no tug-of-war over the sheets. There are no more nagging voices saying drag the trash out to the street. There is always enough food and the shower is always hot enough for me. I thought I wanted something else but alone is what I want to be. Its been so long ago, it's almost like a dream. I have swallowed all the pain and now this is all I see.
I just see flashes, short-lived glimpses of what we used to be.
Its been a long time since I touched you or held you in my calloused hands. Ive been alone for such a time, I wouldnt expect you to understand. I have learned to be alone, a hard and usefull skill. It makes me exempt from love; Its easier to seperate the fiegned from whats real. Relying soley on myself, I no longer have to trust. However all my treasures mold and all the riches rust. But I am free from smiles and tears and Im not a slave to anneversaries. Im not bound by Hallmark cards nor by cries from an infants nursery. There are no boring weddings to attend, no reunions to show up to. No happiness to strive for, and no long list of things to do.
I am master of my domain, there's no tug-of-war over the sheets. There are no more nagging voices saying drag the trash out to the street. There is always enough food and the shower is always hot enough for me. I thought I wanted something else but alone is what I want to be. Its been so long ago, it's almost like a dream. I have swallowed all the pain and now this is all I see.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Monster Man
I’m often brought to a place where I can see the events of the past a bit more clearly than I ever could before and it requires me to have a greater measure of emotional control to deal with it, but I see it as very necessary. In order for me to gain a grip on what I have been doing the past eleven months I must consider the actions I had taken in the past and realize that those choices were all, “misguided” to say the least. I thought about my life more in terms of what it should be based on what I thought I deserved and I always found myself insecure and unsatisfied with the results of the fallacy. In retrospect I know that it is not always about what you want and more so about what you do that matters to people in this lifetime.
I chose things out of selfish ambition and out of pride more than out of feeling like I wanted to do something good for someone else for any reason. She meant a lot to me but in the days, months, and years that went by while we were entangled in each other’s affections I pushed her feelings and needs to the side in search for the things just beyond my grasp. For the things that “teased” my senses within my line of sight but at the same time seemed to remain intangible. There were weeks that went by when we would not consider one another; we just lived in the same space. There were times when we might both be trying to say the same thing but wind up arguing our points until one of us, usually her, would admit that we were being a bit foolish. I made the excuse that everything I was doing was so that we could have a life we could be proud of instead of the kind that we had long before either of us knew the others name.
I was jealous, sometimes for a reason and sometimes because I was a drug addict, who couldn’t properly handle his own emotions. I wanted a family so bad that in the middle I lost sight of who I had to please in order for us to be together to have the family. I was jealous because I thought the worst of myself and I assumed that a lot of other people thought the worst of me too. I went out to parties and cheated on my girlfriend because I thought I should take every opportunity to do all the things that made me happy in life regardless of how anybody else felt. I thought I had to play the role that most young black men find themselves in these days; the hustler, the player, and the drug dealer.
Little did I know at the time she saw right through all my lies and she was a bit better at the game than I was because as hard a shell and as much gunk as I carried on my shoulders, she still carried more, but I never really listened to the warning signs. I’ve come this far and now when I look back and I try to place myself in the situations in hindsight, the “thing” I see in my shoes, was more monster than man. That being whose face looks just like mine, he’s not me, but I know he’s still lingering around, somewhere. He did more damage to the people I love than I care to think about, and somehow they’ve forgiven us for the scars we’ve left, but I haven’t been able to forgive or forget that man, that monster with my face.
I chose things out of selfish ambition and out of pride more than out of feeling like I wanted to do something good for someone else for any reason. She meant a lot to me but in the days, months, and years that went by while we were entangled in each other’s affections I pushed her feelings and needs to the side in search for the things just beyond my grasp. For the things that “teased” my senses within my line of sight but at the same time seemed to remain intangible. There were weeks that went by when we would not consider one another; we just lived in the same space. There were times when we might both be trying to say the same thing but wind up arguing our points until one of us, usually her, would admit that we were being a bit foolish. I made the excuse that everything I was doing was so that we could have a life we could be proud of instead of the kind that we had long before either of us knew the others name.
I was jealous, sometimes for a reason and sometimes because I was a drug addict, who couldn’t properly handle his own emotions. I wanted a family so bad that in the middle I lost sight of who I had to please in order for us to be together to have the family. I was jealous because I thought the worst of myself and I assumed that a lot of other people thought the worst of me too. I went out to parties and cheated on my girlfriend because I thought I should take every opportunity to do all the things that made me happy in life regardless of how anybody else felt. I thought I had to play the role that most young black men find themselves in these days; the hustler, the player, and the drug dealer.
Little did I know at the time she saw right through all my lies and she was a bit better at the game than I was because as hard a shell and as much gunk as I carried on my shoulders, she still carried more, but I never really listened to the warning signs. I’ve come this far and now when I look back and I try to place myself in the situations in hindsight, the “thing” I see in my shoes, was more monster than man. That being whose face looks just like mine, he’s not me, but I know he’s still lingering around, somewhere. He did more damage to the people I love than I care to think about, and somehow they’ve forgiven us for the scars we’ve left, but I haven’t been able to forgive or forget that man, that monster with my face.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Final Reflection......For English Class.
I have really enjoyed writing in this calss this semester and yet I still dont think that writing everyday will neccessarily push all the good out of a person. I don't think it works like that. I think that every person does what he or she wants to do in a way and that truely good writing must oome in a sorrt of A-HAA moment when inspiration strikes. I want to believe that I am better for simply practicing the moves so that when the times does come and inspiration strikes me between the eyes, i wont be halted by the need to hit backspace on the keyboard. I am full of so much thought on a day to day basis because I am so introspective and I hope that i was able to release those thoughts floating around without running into a wall every other minute or so.
I wish I would have participated in your Blue Plate Monday's Mrs. Anthony. Ms. Kim Wells has found it so interesting and she is my friend. I reflect on this because sometimes I think I get myself into the habit of doing what comes easiest instead of challenging myself to try something, out of the ordinary. Thanks, for the opprotunity to be in your class this semester, for the most part it has been a pleasure.
I wish I would have participated in your Blue Plate Monday's Mrs. Anthony. Ms. Kim Wells has found it so interesting and she is my friend. I reflect on this because sometimes I think I get myself into the habit of doing what comes easiest instead of challenging myself to try something, out of the ordinary. Thanks, for the opprotunity to be in your class this semester, for the most part it has been a pleasure.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Bible Study
The beginning of Titus talks about him being in the city of Crete in order to appoint elders, Paul gives a list of characteristics that an elder must possess. I think he wants it to be known that the work of the ministry must begin at home before it can be brought to others in the community. Paul writes to Titus explaining that an elder must not have wild children and he must be faithful to his wife. This says to me that people are always watching the lives of those who lead. He wants it to be known that since people are watching their actions that they must be honest and upright people. Most importantly he lets it be known that after all the ground work has been laid and the foundations of the family life are set in order that the elder must be strong in the word of God.
Then Paul writes about some of the corruption within the Cretan people. Chapter 1 verse 12 says, “One of Crete's own prophets has said it: "Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, lazy gluttons.” I think that says a lot about them as a people. They are a people who had stretched in order to separate themselves from the love of God. It is very interesting that the very same people who had been described as “always liars,” are the same people who have claimed to know God. Maybe they have gotten to the point where they have lied to themselves so many times that they have begun to believe. In verse 16 it talks about them denying Christ by their actions and not being fit for anything good. I like to think of it as the blind leading the blind in a way. How you teach your children if you don’t know how to read and how can you lead someone to salvation if you have not truly accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior?
Paul’s final remarks talk about doing what is good and right and leading just and productive lives. I think that his comments bear a great weight on those in the Harbor house today. We all need to be built up in the word of God in order to fight in this war. We must learn to lead productive lives and strive to do what God commands.
Some days I feel like I succeed in doing the right thing and on other day I feel as if I fail. However I always look at my situation and I try to press on and not slip into the attitude of those who allow one bad choice determine what the future holds. Because God saved us not by our righteousness but by his mercy.
Monday, April 27, 2009
How to make a Bologna and Chesse Sandwich
Hot Sandwich
Growing up there were four of us kids that all lived under the same roof. When there was hot food around it was because my mother made it and we accepted what she made and it was always good. After a while my mom started working nights and so the eldest children had to cook for the younger ones and I became pretty good at the basics in the ghetto. That is Kool-Aid, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and my favorite was simply fried bologna and cheese. There isn’t much to making most sandwiches and this one is probably the simplest. It goes right up there with brushing your teeth, on the list of simple things.
First you need to get all your ingredients together and set them together within an easily accessible reach.
Ingredients
1. White Bread
2. 2 slices of Bologna
3. 1 slice of American Cheese
4. The tangy zip of Miracle Whip
Turn on the stove as high as it will go, then back down about one notch. Lay your skillet on the stove burner and add about 2 tablespoons of butter to the skillet. Allow the butter to coat the entire surface of the skillet. Add your 2 slices of bologna to the pan until the meat bubbles in the center then flip. After you flip them the meat will be turned up like a bowl, but continue to cook until the bologna lies back down, then turn the burner off all the way.
Add whatever amount of Miracle Whip you choose to your bread and then both pieces of cheese. Right out of the pan use a fork to slap the bologna on the bread and cheese and let it sit a few minutes so that the heat of the bologna can melt the cheese. Enjoy your low budget meal.
There is a door that leads you out of our dining room and into the kitchen. Once you walk through this door there is an island, to the left but smack dab in the middle of the room. To your right you will see a counter top big enough to lie down on and stretch your arms out above your head. Under that counter there are a couple of cabinets full of different kinds of pots and pans and all sorts of scarcely used utensils. If you make a left and watch out for the island then right over head about three feet in front of you, you will see the kitchen’s sink. Above the kitchen sink there are more cabinets filled with all sorts of boxed foods and some different kinds of mixes. Also in this same cabinet there are two jars of peanut butter. Look around for the one with the red label and not the blue one. The blue jar is chunky peanut butter and you don’t want to go there. Turn right and you can’t miss our double wide refrigerator and in there you will find the bread and maybe even a knife left over from another dish that you could surely wash and use to make yourself a peanut butter sandwich.
Growing up there were four of us kids that all lived under the same roof. When there was hot food around it was because my mother made it and we accepted what she made and it was always good. After a while my mom started working nights and so the eldest children had to cook for the younger ones and I became pretty good at the basics in the ghetto. That is Kool-Aid, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and my favorite was simply fried bologna and cheese. There isn’t much to making most sandwiches and this one is probably the simplest. It goes right up there with brushing your teeth, on the list of simple things.
First you need to get all your ingredients together and set them together within an easily accessible reach.
Ingredients
1. White Bread
2. 2 slices of Bologna
3. 1 slice of American Cheese
4. The tangy zip of Miracle Whip
Turn on the stove as high as it will go, then back down about one notch. Lay your skillet on the stove burner and add about 2 tablespoons of butter to the skillet. Allow the butter to coat the entire surface of the skillet. Add your 2 slices of bologna to the pan until the meat bubbles in the center then flip. After you flip them the meat will be turned up like a bowl, but continue to cook until the bologna lies back down, then turn the burner off all the way.
Add whatever amount of Miracle Whip you choose to your bread and then both pieces of cheese. Right out of the pan use a fork to slap the bologna on the bread and cheese and let it sit a few minutes so that the heat of the bologna can melt the cheese. Enjoy your low budget meal.
There is a door that leads you out of our dining room and into the kitchen. Once you walk through this door there is an island, to the left but smack dab in the middle of the room. To your right you will see a counter top big enough to lie down on and stretch your arms out above your head. Under that counter there are a couple of cabinets full of different kinds of pots and pans and all sorts of scarcely used utensils. If you make a left and watch out for the island then right over head about three feet in front of you, you will see the kitchen’s sink. Above the kitchen sink there are more cabinets filled with all sorts of boxed foods and some different kinds of mixes. Also in this same cabinet there are two jars of peanut butter. Look around for the one with the red label and not the blue one. The blue jar is chunky peanut butter and you don’t want to go there. Turn right and you can’t miss our double wide refrigerator and in there you will find the bread and maybe even a knife left over from another dish that you could surely wash and use to make yourself a peanut butter sandwich.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
I Stir
I wonder how things will turn out after this semester. Will I be able to finish the race to the end or will I fall before I reach the finish line? I often wonder how things will develop with regards to the friends that I have made this semester. Will we know one another in a few years or will we survive as a faint memory? This year has been one of test. It has tried my patience and corrected. This year I find myself planning for my future more than I ever had before and I find myself losing the battle of my spirit. I found the love of God in the winter of 2008 and ever since my life has been totally different. I live close to downtown, and every Friday and Saturday night I can hear the roar of the college kids having the time of their lives and I think about how fun that might be. I find myself in turmoil, stuck between wanting to go out and party with friends and dealing with my need to do what I know is better for me. Sometimes I wonder if I would even enjoy myself if I went out to a bar. I don’t drink and I don’t smoke anymore and I don’t even like the smell of the places anymore. It would not be a place that I could go to in order to meet anybody with any kind of self-control. I imagine myself in the middle of two girls puking and possibly some fight going on behind me and all of a sudden I don’t want to go to the bar anymore. Ten minutes after that feeling goes away another one storms its way into my mind. I look into the night’s sky and I see and hear the explosion of the fireworks at Hammons Stadium. The bright colors and the noise remind me of the years I spent working at Busch Stadium in St. Louis. So much life in one place all gathered together in the name of the great American pastime. Ten I think about all the drunken people I used to have to ride the metro link train with and I instantly forget about going out to a baseball game. I sit on my patio thinking about what to do and tapping my fingers wishing there were more to this town than bars and restaurants. I wind up doing what I always do and putting on some “feel good” music and lying down to a movie and snacks. It seems like the only thing that I can do without feeling some sort of guilt, without feeling like I would be going against what I believe in order to do it. Still I think the devil knows what his angle will need to be if he is ever to gain a foothold in my life. The buzz of the night life is a lure that remains. Part of me feels as if I am missing out on a part of my youth by denying myself simple pleasures. Another side of me wants that to be over so I can move on to the next chapter of my life. Is there a common ground where the transition can occur in a smooth fashion?
Friday, April 24, 2009
If you have read any of my free writings you would know that this woman that I love has a hold of my heart. I think more than wanting to rekindle a dying flame; I just want to fall in love again. There is a difference between being lost without her and just plain old tired of being alone. I’m tired of avoiding going out to eat because I don’t want to eat by myself. I tire of the coldness of my sheets and I am so tired of trying to act like everything is alright. Nothing is the same and I just wish that I could cope a little better. I have all this money in the bank and no one to spend it on. I have all this energy and enthusiasm and I am only getting older. I see all the things that I am missing out on but I won’t allow myself to act like a victim to this. Sure, in my writings I can only express the truth in my heart but my hope is that when people see me I don’t simply radiate with self pity. My aim is to emit some sort of light that is attractive to those around me. My goal is to glow in such a way that my personality just spills over into the laps of my friends, giving them the motivation get over themselves.
I think back on the way that I used to be and I am happy about the fact that I have changed inside. I have changed for the better in the way that I treat people and it is as if my heart knows better than to assume that people will always be there. I used to assume that she would always be there but look at how that blew up in my smug face. So the, “new me” so to speak, is trying to be more humble and gracious and conscious to the fact that people are precious. [I wish I could explain some things without using classic clichés.]
I think back on the way that I used to be and I am happy about the fact that I have changed inside. I have changed for the better in the way that I treat people and it is as if my heart knows better than to assume that people will always be there. I used to assume that she would always be there but look at how that blew up in my smug face. So the, “new me” so to speak, is trying to be more humble and gracious and conscious to the fact that people are precious. [I wish I could explain some things without using classic clichés.]
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Love
I think the hardest thing about being in love is the fact that sometimes you’ll find yourself thinking that everything is fine and that you are on the same page as the person you love until somewhere along the road communication breaks down. You say to yourself that if there was a problem he or she would say so. If ever we needed to talk to one another that the lines of communication are strong and always open. If ever I didn’t have anyone else to confide in that I can always count on my love to be there.
Too often we have traveled down roads blind and now we consider ourselves a bit wiser and a bit more cautious than we were. Too often we allow ourselves to slip into this mode of gentleness and soft eyes, all previous heartaches had robbed us of, until the wall falls down. We must open the gates in order to let them in but in doing so we sometimes become prematurely defenseless. We don’t see the break and maybe it’s because we don’t want it to be over just yet. Maybe it’s because we have been lonely and so we are willing to put up with a little more each day because we don’t want to be alone.
Don’t get me wrong, we are not weak individuals. You must understand that there is a lot of energy and a lot of work that goes into forging a successful relationship. It would just be a shame to let something so painstaking just shatter because of something so, unnecessary. We’ve gotten ourselves into the habit of letting the little things go and not holding grudges. Enough time goes by and we don’t even feel the tug when they begin to pull away. We don’t notice when the arguments become silence or when the wildfire becomes a dimly glowing ember.
We make more and more excuses for them and sometimes we even allow ourselves to believe the lies. Some of us are looking for that first high all over again but those of us who have been under the influence know that the first high is the sweetest. To every person who has never felt like they needed an anonymous meeting after coming down, I’m here to tell you that it won’t ever be the same, but we never stop looking for that sweet love.
Does the events that occur in our relationships today, affect how we trust tomorrow? Will we ever be able to put forth the same amount or more effort than we did when we were blinded by our foolish hearts? What does that mean? Are we forever scarred by the trauma or can we choose? I think we are always left with the choice except most people have a limit on how much they are willing to put themselves through. We wonder how they could pleasure putting us through so much pain. A man won’t usually fall in love more than a few times before something inside him snaps in two. One day he will turn away, dry his eyes, and erect the walls again. If he does fall in love again, he won’t say so, for the fear of being made fool at heart again.
If you could examine the condition of my heart you would see something in the likeness of a stone. If you could touch it you would feel something like a hard callous at just above room temperature. If you dropped it to the ground I would feel no pain. If it fell to the dirt it would not bounce and if it fell into water it would surely sink.
Too often we have traveled down roads blind and now we consider ourselves a bit wiser and a bit more cautious than we were. Too often we allow ourselves to slip into this mode of gentleness and soft eyes, all previous heartaches had robbed us of, until the wall falls down. We must open the gates in order to let them in but in doing so we sometimes become prematurely defenseless. We don’t see the break and maybe it’s because we don’t want it to be over just yet. Maybe it’s because we have been lonely and so we are willing to put up with a little more each day because we don’t want to be alone.
Don’t get me wrong, we are not weak individuals. You must understand that there is a lot of energy and a lot of work that goes into forging a successful relationship. It would just be a shame to let something so painstaking just shatter because of something so, unnecessary. We’ve gotten ourselves into the habit of letting the little things go and not holding grudges. Enough time goes by and we don’t even feel the tug when they begin to pull away. We don’t notice when the arguments become silence or when the wildfire becomes a dimly glowing ember.
We make more and more excuses for them and sometimes we even allow ourselves to believe the lies. Some of us are looking for that first high all over again but those of us who have been under the influence know that the first high is the sweetest. To every person who has never felt like they needed an anonymous meeting after coming down, I’m here to tell you that it won’t ever be the same, but we never stop looking for that sweet love.
Does the events that occur in our relationships today, affect how we trust tomorrow? Will we ever be able to put forth the same amount or more effort than we did when we were blinded by our foolish hearts? What does that mean? Are we forever scarred by the trauma or can we choose? I think we are always left with the choice except most people have a limit on how much they are willing to put themselves through. We wonder how they could pleasure putting us through so much pain. A man won’t usually fall in love more than a few times before something inside him snaps in two. One day he will turn away, dry his eyes, and erect the walls again. If he does fall in love again, he won’t say so, for the fear of being made fool at heart again.
If you could examine the condition of my heart you would see something in the likeness of a stone. If you could touch it you would feel something like a hard callous at just above room temperature. If you dropped it to the ground I would feel no pain. If it fell to the dirt it would not bounce and if it fell into water it would surely sink.
Monday, April 20, 2009
It’s funny the things you miss when they are gone, the people, the places that seem to ring forever inside of you and leave behind a tender longing and fond memories. If you asked me six months ago what I thought the best thing in my life was I would have told you that I don’t know. However if you ask me now what I think the most important thing in my life is I will stand up and tell you that being a good man is the only thing I care about. She left such a stain on which I am that most nights I recall all the unfortunate choices I made and I want to be different. When does change truly begin in a person? Is it when that person becomes sick to their stomach of the consequences of their actions or is it when they realize that nothing they do or no amount of materials can bring them the kind of satisfaction that loving another person can bring? I search most nights for a cure to my ailments and I wake up in the morning having found nothing beneficial to me and slowly my drive is diminished. I want to earn for myself a new sense of being because some things in this life I have found are simply worth fighting for. Some things mean so much for so long that they become the sole purpose of your life and the key reason why you make the decisions you make and the reason why you start the car in the morning and drive. I miss being able to hop in the car and go and I miss the trips out of town with her and I miss just laying in the bed and letting her long pretty hair fall on my eyes. I miss giving gifts and bringing a smile to her face and I miss taking care of her when she was ill. I miss the beginning, when we would stay up late at night just talking on the phone and laughing. I miss the times when we would wrestle on the bed and wind up on the floor making love. I miss taking showers with her and I miss the smell of her sweet perfume. Still, all I want is to be a better man, to somehow not fall victim of the flaws in me that lead me to the place where I am.
Without fail, every night I find myself full of regret when faced with the thoughts of who I really am. No one knows the real me and it just, flat out stinks when you live a double life. Often I have to check myself in order to keep that old sinful man in line with the desires of my heart. Inside me, one man is outgoing and eager and the other is introverted and unhappy. The good man is timid yet generous and kind. The bad man dives head first into his life without the slightest care for anyone else but himself. The bad man is a thrill seeker and the good man is a fire fighter who is actively involved in the lives of his friends and family. I often ask myself how and why this duo coexists. I ask myself how can there be peace.
On the nights when I happen to dream I am plagued by the poor decisions I have made and I am made a fool when I can finally see what I should have done. Sometimes I will happen to notice a nice couple holding hands and the sight of their closeness is like a dagger. Their smiles dredge up photo like memories, seemingly insignificant things that I have stashed away, in a place where I pray they can do no more harm. Still, I grind my teeth in my sleep until small bits break under the pressure and in the morning I am always in need of a few aspirins and a cigarette. When I brush my teeth and tongue I often look in the mirror and recite a few, necessary lies, telling myself things will be alright, if only I could make it through the moment. Then I take a breath and nothing has changed and that bad man mocks me, telling me how stupid I am for denying myself. Why don’t you stop in the bar and remember what it tastes like to have a beer or two among friends. Remember how much fun you used to have he says, and his voice echoes in my mind. The good man in me crawls out of his shell and tells that intimidating persona, that he can shove his bar beauties and he can keep his nightlife. And as he nestles back inside his hideout he prays for love.
On the nights when I happen to dream I am plagued by the poor decisions I have made and I am made a fool when I can finally see what I should have done. Sometimes I will happen to notice a nice couple holding hands and the sight of their closeness is like a dagger. Their smiles dredge up photo like memories, seemingly insignificant things that I have stashed away, in a place where I pray they can do no more harm. Still, I grind my teeth in my sleep until small bits break under the pressure and in the morning I am always in need of a few aspirins and a cigarette. When I brush my teeth and tongue I often look in the mirror and recite a few, necessary lies, telling myself things will be alright, if only I could make it through the moment. Then I take a breath and nothing has changed and that bad man mocks me, telling me how stupid I am for denying myself. Why don’t you stop in the bar and remember what it tastes like to have a beer or two among friends. Remember how much fun you used to have he says, and his voice echoes in my mind. The good man in me crawls out of his shell and tells that intimidating persona, that he can shove his bar beauties and he can keep his nightlife. And as he nestles back inside his hideout he prays for love.
What is a Place?
I was arrested in January of 2007 on a probation violation and I was held in the Greene County Jail on a warrant for failure to appear at my probation office. I was technically on the run from the law and now my mistakes had finally caught up with me and the law had me pinned down. This was not the first time I had been arrested but it would be the last but I just hadn’t made that choice for myself yet. Sure, I had said on more than one occasion that I was tired of feeling like I wasn’t in complete control of my life and that I was tired of being subjected to the will of other men but nothing had ever changed. I had gone in front of the judge before and made him all sorts of promises in order to keep my hind end out of the penitentiary but now I had returned because I did not keep my end of the bargain and so he was upset with me to say the least. Normally, when you are arrested on a warrant you will go in front of the judge at the next earliest convenience, somewhere in the neighborhood of one or two days depending on what day you got arrested. In my case I was held for five full weeks before I saw anybody wearing a full length black robe.
Allow me to back up a bit and tell you what it is like to be arrested and then I will take you through the process of being put into the county jail. I have already informed you that I have been arrested on more than one occasion and I will add that my life until this point has been a domino effect of chains and heartache. At any rate, I was arrested in January right after Christmas. I had the day off from work and I had picked up my check and was on my way to the bank and I guess you could say that the day started off as if it was going to be beautiful. I was stopped on the street by a police officer at about 1:30 in the afternoon and I made no issues about stopping and answering his question. I had been questioned before for what I like to call, (DWB) driving while black, and so to me it was just an inconvenience that would take up anywhere between 5 to 10 minutes of my time. Yes, I was a bit annoyed but it was just a part of being me at the time. Sometimes you get pulled over and sometimes you went to jail and that was just the chance you take. I saw my life in a very dim light and I lived everyday in the moment, and somehow I considered the way I lived to be much richer and fuller than those who simply accepted the mundane and scheduled lives they led. The officer ran my name and the rest is history, I went to jail, but not quietly. I put up a big huff and puff show and before you knew it the officers were wrestling me to the ground and people were driving by in the cars, breaking their necks to get a good look at the show in the street. I wasn’t ashamed of myself or anything like that, I was just angry.
I arrived at the jailhouse and was led into an area, known as the pit. It is a holding area where you just wait until it’s your turn to be booked. There are four steps leading down into the shallow pit and about five rows of six blue plastic chairs. In the middle of the pit there is a dividing wall to separate the men from the women and on the wall there are phones that can be used, that is if anyone will accept. From the moment I walked into the jail until the moment I was taken to the pit I still had not really had the dose of reality I so dreadfully needed. I smelled the overpowering smell of household cleaners in high concentration and I heard nothing. I had so many thoughts going through my head that it was as if I had gone deaf to the outside world. I was so consumed with my own thoughts that nothing else mattered. I sank down as deep as I could into those unforgiving blue chairs and managed to fall asleep. When I woke I had been in the pit for about six hours and now I still hadn’t been allowed to make my non collect phone call. So I started to complain to the officer in charge and after about another half an hour I was finally able to call my girlfriend and let her know that I would not be home for dinner and why. I was still under the assumption that this whole ordeal would be over shortly and when I got off of the phone I was reassured that things would be taken care of.
Then the booking process started and it is a cycle to say the least. I was asked to step out of the pit and up to the guard station and then I was bombarded with a battery of questions by some slightly attractive lady cop. Questions regarding demographics and some related to mental health like, “have you ever attempted suicide Mr. Moller?” After initial questioning I was photographed and then fingerprinted and asked to return to my seat. It was going on eight hours now and I still hadn’t made it past the first few checkpoints, but all I kept thinking about was how good it would feel to make it to my cell so I could fall asleep and see the judge the next day. Still before long I made it to the last step in the process of being booked in and that is changing your clothes and putting on my new Greene County issued Bob Barker jumpsuit. An office led me to a changing area where I was asked to strip out of all of my clothes and follow all instructions. I stepped into the room and it was only as big as a man’s closet with a little open window so that the guard can watch my every move. I dropped my pants and lost my shirt along with all my other undergarments and I waited to be handed my change of clothes while the officer bagged and tagged my personal things. In this jail they give you a half a bar of soap and a Dixie cup full of some kind of generic lice treatment that everyone must use before entering the jail. You must take a shower as well but I knew from experience that the water would be ice cold. I wanted to get everything over with as soon as possible and just get to my cell but things would not be that easy. I reached for my new clothing from the officer but he demanded that I go through the whole rigmarole of proving that I was not smuggling anything into the jail and that is when things got a little dicey. I told him very flatly that I would do no such thing. I was never forced into doing anything so degrading before and I wasn’t going to start today at his request. He asked me again to lift my scrotum for him and I again met his request with a firm, hell no. He asked me just wasn’t any way that I was going to do that. I think that he wanted to press the issue even more but then he caved in, apparently not wanting to deal with another belligerent individual that evening. He called me a few unsavory names and told me to hurry and get dressed and so I did. The showers in booking are stainless steel and about the size of a double wide coffin, just big enough to turn around in. When I emerged from the shower, I felt a few degrees colder but I was ready to end my night and go to sleep. I slipped into the hunter green jumpsuit that night and into the only thing I would wind up wearing for the next six and a half months. It was the beginning of a long overdue process that would leave me forever changed. It was the end of everything I knew about living and the beginning of things that my grandmother had prayed for me all those years ago. I entered cell block D as 140932 and I left a shell of a man waiting to be filled.
I was arrested in January of 2007 on a probation violation and I was held in the Greene County Jail on a warrant for failure to appear at my probation office. I was technically on the run from the law and now my mistakes had finally caught up with me and the law had me pinned down. This was not the first time I had been arrested but it would be the last but I just hadn’t made that choice for myself yet. Sure, I had said on more than one occasion that I was tired of feeling like I wasn’t in complete control of my life and that I was tired of being subjected to the will of other men but nothing had ever changed. I had gone in front of the judge before and made him all sorts of promises in order to keep my hind end out of the penitentiary but now I had returned because I did not keep my end of the bargain and so he was upset with me to say the least. Normally, when you are arrested on a warrant you will go in front of the judge at the next earliest convenience, somewhere in the neighborhood of one or two days depending on what day you got arrested. In my case I was held for five full weeks before I saw anybody wearing a full length black robe.
Allow me to back up a bit and tell you what it is like to be arrested and then I will take you through the process of being put into the county jail. I have already informed you that I have been arrested on more than one occasion and I will add that my life until this point has been a domino effect of chains and heartache. At any rate, I was arrested in January right after Christmas. I had the day off from work and I had picked up my check and was on my way to the bank and I guess you could say that the day started off as if it was going to be beautiful. I was stopped on the street by a police officer at about 1:30 in the afternoon and I made no issues about stopping and answering his question. I had been questioned before for what I like to call, (DWB) driving while black, and so to me it was just an inconvenience that would take up anywhere between 5 to 10 minutes of my time. Yes, I was a bit annoyed but it was just a part of being me at the time. Sometimes you get pulled over and sometimes you went to jail and that was just the chance you take. I saw my life in a very dim light and I lived everyday in the moment, and somehow I considered the way I lived to be much richer and fuller than those who simply accepted the mundane and scheduled lives they led. The officer ran my name and the rest is history, I went to jail, but not quietly. I put up a big huff and puff show and before you knew it the officers were wrestling me to the ground and people were driving by in the cars, breaking their necks to get a good look at the show in the street. I wasn’t ashamed of myself or anything like that, I was just angry.
I arrived at the jailhouse and was led into an area, known as the pit. It is a holding area where you just wait until it’s your turn to be booked. There are four steps leading down into the shallow pit and about five rows of six blue plastic chairs. In the middle of the pit there is a dividing wall to separate the men from the women and on the wall there are phones that can be used, that is if anyone will accept. From the moment I walked into the jail until the moment I was taken to the pit I still had not really had the dose of reality I so dreadfully needed. I smelled the overpowering smell of household cleaners in high concentration and I heard nothing. I had so many thoughts going through my head that it was as if I had gone deaf to the outside world. I was so consumed with my own thoughts that nothing else mattered. I sank down as deep as I could into those unforgiving blue chairs and managed to fall asleep. When I woke I had been in the pit for about six hours and now I still hadn’t been allowed to make my non collect phone call. So I started to complain to the officer in charge and after about another half an hour I was finally able to call my girlfriend and let her know that I would not be home for dinner and why. I was still under the assumption that this whole ordeal would be over shortly and when I got off of the phone I was reassured that things would be taken care of.
Then the booking process started and it is a cycle to say the least. I was asked to step out of the pit and up to the guard station and then I was bombarded with a battery of questions by some slightly attractive lady cop. Questions regarding demographics and some related to mental health like, “have you ever attempted suicide Mr. Moller?” After initial questioning I was photographed and then fingerprinted and asked to return to my seat. It was going on eight hours now and I still hadn’t made it past the first few checkpoints, but all I kept thinking about was how good it would feel to make it to my cell so I could fall asleep and see the judge the next day. Still before long I made it to the last step in the process of being booked in and that is changing your clothes and putting on my new Greene County issued Bob Barker jumpsuit. An office led me to a changing area where I was asked to strip out of all of my clothes and follow all instructions. I stepped into the room and it was only as big as a man’s closet with a little open window so that the guard can watch my every move. I dropped my pants and lost my shirt along with all my other undergarments and I waited to be handed my change of clothes while the officer bagged and tagged my personal things. In this jail they give you a half a bar of soap and a Dixie cup full of some kind of generic lice treatment that everyone must use before entering the jail. You must take a shower as well but I knew from experience that the water would be ice cold. I wanted to get everything over with as soon as possible and just get to my cell but things would not be that easy. I reached for my new clothing from the officer but he demanded that I go through the whole rigmarole of proving that I was not smuggling anything into the jail and that is when things got a little dicey. I told him very flatly that I would do no such thing. I was never forced into doing anything so degrading before and I wasn’t going to start today at his request. He asked me again to lift my scrotum for him and I again met his request with a firm, hell no. He asked me just wasn’t any way that I was going to do that. I think that he wanted to press the issue even more but then he caved in, apparently not wanting to deal with another belligerent individual that evening. He called me a few unsavory names and told me to hurry and get dressed and so I did. The showers in booking are stainless steel and about the size of a double wide coffin, just big enough to turn around in. When I emerged from the shower, I felt a few degrees colder but I was ready to end my night and go to sleep. I slipped into the hunter green jumpsuit that night and into the only thing I would wind up wearing for the next six and a half months. It was the beginning of a long overdue process that would leave me forever changed. It was the end of everything I knew about living and the beginning of things that my grandmother had prayed for me all those years ago. I entered cell block D as 140932 and I left a shell of a man waiting to be filled.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Iron Curtains
I just found out today that my ex-fiancé has been traveling down the wrong road like I was and it bothers me. I can’t even begin to explain why that is or try to describe what emotions come wrapped inside this package. An old friend of mine told me she had been hanging out with this girl who happens to be a two time loser. Twice she has been convicted of felony charges and she has been to jail on more than one occasion. When we were together I tried to keep her out of my troubles to the best of my ability and I was successful. She never saw the bad places I saw and part of me is glad that I was able to lead her down a walkway that wasn’t parallel to my own. My friend told me that over a period of about six months while I was in jail that they had gone out to stores and stole purses and little stupid, unnecessary items for fun. After a while she didn’t think twice about what it was that she was doing and it broke my heart to hear the news. About five months ago he said that she was arrested for 2nd degree burglary and theft. I heard him out but most of me did not want to believe that she would stoop so low. I never stole and none of my friends were thieves so I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that she would. After he left I went down to the local coffee house and brought up her name on Missouri case net dot com, and sadly there she was. Along with another charge no one had told me about. My first instinct was to shake her from my thoughts right then and there but I couldn’t. Then I started thinking about all the times she stayed by my side when I found myself behind concrete walls and steel doors and I began to feel sort of confused. We have not been together for almost a year now but I don’t want her to have to suffer in that place the way that I did. I began to think about how it seems like when you’re going down you tend to have wound up surrounding yourself with the kind of friends who bail on you. You become involved with the kind of fly by night buddies who are there one minute and gone the next. Tomorrow I will go down to the jailhouse and put a hundred bucks on her books and see about visitation. The position I put myself in is one of personal choice. Sometimes the only way a man or woman learns from their mistakes is to find out what it is that they want and choose. Some people choose to allow all the bad choices they make to pile up on them until the weight of it is staggering. Other people can be warned once and they will have such a fear of the consequences that they will choose not to go down that path. I would hope that I could talk to her and try to steer her way from all this nonsense and point her in the direction of a good attorney but she is so hard headed sometimes. Over the past few months I have prayed for her and I have hoped that even if we aren’t meant to be together that she be able to find happiness in whatever she replaced me with. This just puts a whole lot into perspective and the more I think about it the more I wonder what the right thing to do is.
I just found out today that my ex-fiancé has been traveling down the wrong road like I was and it bothers me. I can’t even begin to explain why that is or try to describe what emotions come wrapped inside this package. An old friend of mine told me she had been hanging out with this girl who happens to be a two time loser. Twice she has been convicted of felony charges and she has been to jail on more than one occasion. When we were together I tried to keep her out of my troubles to the best of my ability and I was successful. She never saw the bad places I saw and part of me is glad that I was able to lead her down a walkway that wasn’t parallel to my own. My friend told me that over a period of about six months while I was in jail that they had gone out to stores and stole purses and little stupid, unnecessary items for fun. After a while she didn’t think twice about what it was that she was doing and it broke my heart to hear the news. About five months ago he said that she was arrested for 2nd degree burglary and theft. I heard him out but most of me did not want to believe that she would stoop so low. I never stole and none of my friends were thieves so I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that she would. After he left I went down to the local coffee house and brought up her name on Missouri case net dot com, and sadly there she was. Along with another charge no one had told me about. My first instinct was to shake her from my thoughts right then and there but I couldn’t. Then I started thinking about all the times she stayed by my side when I found myself behind concrete walls and steel doors and I began to feel sort of confused. We have not been together for almost a year now but I don’t want her to have to suffer in that place the way that I did. I began to think about how it seems like when you’re going down you tend to have wound up surrounding yourself with the kind of friends who bail on you. You become involved with the kind of fly by night buddies who are there one minute and gone the next. Tomorrow I will go down to the jailhouse and put a hundred bucks on her books and see about visitation. The position I put myself in is one of personal choice. Sometimes the only way a man or woman learns from their mistakes is to find out what it is that they want and choose. Some people choose to allow all the bad choices they make to pile up on them until the weight of it is staggering. Other people can be warned once and they will have such a fear of the consequences that they will choose not to go down that path. I would hope that I could talk to her and try to steer her way from all this nonsense and point her in the direction of a good attorney but she is so hard headed sometimes. Over the past few months I have prayed for her and I have hoped that even if we aren’t meant to be together that she be able to find happiness in whatever she replaced me with. This just puts a whole lot into perspective and the more I think about it the more I wonder what the right thing to do is.
Iron Curtains
I just found out today that my ex-fiancé has been traveling down the wrong road like I was and it bothers me. I can’t even begin to explain why that is or try to describe what emotions come wrapped inside this package. An old friend of mine told me she had been hanging out with this girl who happens to be a two time loser. Twice she has been convicted of felony charges and she has been to jail on more than one occasion. When we were together I tried to keep her out of my troubles to the best of my ability and I was successful. She never saw the bad places I saw and part of me is glad that I was able to lead her down a walkway that wasn’t parallel to my own. My friend told me that over a period of about six months while I was in jail that they had gone out to stores and stole purses and little stupid, unnecessary items for fun. After a while she didn’t think twice about what it was that she was doing and it broke my heart to hear the news. About five months ago he said that she was arrested for 2nd degree burglary and theft. I heard him out but most of me did not want to believe that she would stoop so low. I never stole and none of my friends were thieves so I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that she would. After he left I went down to the local coffee house and brought up her name on Missouri case net dot com, and sadly there she was. Along with another charge no one had told me about. My first instinct was to shake her from my thoughts right then and there but I couldn’t. Then I started thinking about all the times she stayed by my side when I found myself behind concrete walls and steel doors and I began to feel sort of confused. We have not been together for almost a year now but I don’t want her to have to suffer in that place the way that I did. I began to think about how it seems like when you’re going down you tend to have wound up surrounding yourself with the kind of friends who bail on you. You become involved with the kind of fly by night buddies who are there one minute and gone the next. Tomorrow I will go down to the jailhouse and put a hundred bucks on her books and see about visitation. The position I put myself in is one of personal choice. Sometimes the only way a man or woman learns from their mistakes is to find out what it is that they want and choose. Some people choose to allow all the bad choices they make to pile up on them until the weight of it is staggering. Other people can be warned once and they will have such a fear of the consequences that they will choose not to go down that path. I would hope that I could talk to her and try to steer her way from all this nonsense and point her in the direction of a good attorney but she is so hard headed sometimes. Over the past few months I have prayed for her and I have hoped that even if we aren’t meant to be together that she be able to find happiness in whatever she replaced me with. This just puts a whole lot into perspective and the more I think about it the more I wonder what the right thing to do is.
I just found out today that my ex-fiancé has been traveling down the wrong road like I was and it bothers me. I can’t even begin to explain why that is or try to describe what emotions come wrapped inside this package. An old friend of mine told me she had been hanging out with this girl who happens to be a two time loser. Twice she has been convicted of felony charges and she has been to jail on more than one occasion. When we were together I tried to keep her out of my troubles to the best of my ability and I was successful. She never saw the bad places I saw and part of me is glad that I was able to lead her down a walkway that wasn’t parallel to my own. My friend told me that over a period of about six months while I was in jail that they had gone out to stores and stole purses and little stupid, unnecessary items for fun. After a while she didn’t think twice about what it was that she was doing and it broke my heart to hear the news. About five months ago he said that she was arrested for 2nd degree burglary and theft. I heard him out but most of me did not want to believe that she would stoop so low. I never stole and none of my friends were thieves so I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that she would. After he left I went down to the local coffee house and brought up her name on Missouri case net dot com, and sadly there she was. Along with another charge no one had told me about. My first instinct was to shake her from my thoughts right then and there but I couldn’t. Then I started thinking about all the times she stayed by my side when I found myself behind concrete walls and steel doors and I began to feel sort of confused. We have not been together for almost a year now but I don’t want her to have to suffer in that place the way that I did. I began to think about how it seems like when you’re going down you tend to have wound up surrounding yourself with the kind of friends who bail on you. You become involved with the kind of fly by night buddies who are there one minute and gone the next. Tomorrow I will go down to the jailhouse and put a hundred bucks on her books and see about visitation. The position I put myself in is one of personal choice. Sometimes the only way a man or woman learns from their mistakes is to find out what it is that they want and choose. Some people choose to allow all the bad choices they make to pile up on them until the weight of it is staggering. Other people can be warned once and they will have such a fear of the consequences that they will choose not to go down that path. I would hope that I could talk to her and try to steer her way from all this nonsense and point her in the direction of a good attorney but she is so hard headed sometimes. Over the past few months I have prayed for her and I have hoped that even if we aren’t meant to be together that she be able to find happiness in whatever she replaced me with. This just puts a whole lot into perspective and the more I think about it the more I wonder what the right thing to do is.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Without fail, every night I find myself full of regret when faced with the thoughts of who I really am. No one knows the real me and it just, flat out stinks when you live a double life. Often I have to check myself in order to keep that old sinful man in line with the desires of my heart. Inside me, one man is outgoing and eager and the other is introverted and unhappy. The good man is timid yet generous and kind. The bad man dives head first into his life without the slightest care for anyone else but himself. The bad man is a thrill seeker and the good man is a fire fighter who is actively involved in the lives of his friends and family. I often ask myself how and why this duo coexists. I ask myself how can there be peace.
On the nights when I happen to dream I am plagued by the poor decisions I have made and I am made a fool when I can finally see what I should have done. Sometimes I will happen to notice a nice couple holding hands and the sight of their closeness is like a dagger. Their smiles dredge up photo like memories, seemingly insignificant things that I have stashed away, in a place where I pray they can do no more harm. Still, I grind my teeth in my sleep until small bits break under the pressure and in the morning I am always in need of a few aspirins and a cigarette. When I brush my teeth and tongue I often look in the mirror and recite a few, necessary lies, telling myself things will be alright, if only I could make it through the moment. Then I take a breath and nothing has changed and that bad man mocks me, telling me how stupid I am for denying myself. Why don’t you stop in the bar and remember what it tastes like to have a beer or two among friends. Remember how much fun you used to have he says, and his voice echoes in my mind. The good man in me crawls out of his shell and tells that intimidating persona, that he can shove his bar beauties and he can keep his nightlife. And as he nestles back inside his hideout he prays for love.
On the nights when I happen to dream I am plagued by the poor decisions I have made and I am made a fool when I can finally see what I should have done. Sometimes I will happen to notice a nice couple holding hands and the sight of their closeness is like a dagger. Their smiles dredge up photo like memories, seemingly insignificant things that I have stashed away, in a place where I pray they can do no more harm. Still, I grind my teeth in my sleep until small bits break under the pressure and in the morning I am always in need of a few aspirins and a cigarette. When I brush my teeth and tongue I often look in the mirror and recite a few, necessary lies, telling myself things will be alright, if only I could make it through the moment. Then I take a breath and nothing has changed and that bad man mocks me, telling me how stupid I am for denying myself. Why don’t you stop in the bar and remember what it tastes like to have a beer or two among friends. Remember how much fun you used to have he says, and his voice echoes in my mind. The good man in me crawls out of his shell and tells that intimidating persona, that he can shove his bar beauties and he can keep his nightlife. And as he nestles back inside his hideout he prays for love.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Sometimes I would rather not do so much talking but instead I choose to listen to others. I watch what people are saying to one another and I try to take notice of when those I am friends with are going through. A friend of mine was having relationship problems recently and I did my best to listen to him and try and provide some advice for him. He told me that his girlfriend didn’t seem to be that in to him, or at least as into him as she had been previously. While I listened to him I had to bite my tongue in order to keep myself from spewing something unnecessary or out of some emotional need. I wanted to tell him about what I thought for a while and I didn’t want him to take my personal view points too seriously because I know that I could be wrong. I just listened for a while and then he finally asked me my opinion without holding back to spare any feelings. So I told him what I thought but things were still a bit censored because people say they want to hear the whole truth without the sugar coating but that’s not what they honestly want. I think they want to hold their hand while they talk themselves out of their own troubles or just be told what they want to hear in other words than the ones playing in their own head.
Monday, April 13, 2009
I wanted this school year to be more productive in light of the fact that I did almost six months of jail time last year and I spent another month trying to appease the probation board so that I can try to love a normal life again. You might be asking yourself, what is normal, and I tell you I don’t know. All I know is that my life a year ago was far from what I wanted it to be. I sat in a jail cell for months hoping and praying to someone I didn’t know that I didn’t wind up in a Missouri prison.
In 2005 I was out doing no good with some people whom I guess you could consider friends and I got into some trouble. My buddy’s dad was living with us at the time and I was smoking a little pot with him. He had just been released from the hospital after successful hydra cell surgery and was in a lot of pain. For those of you who don’t know what that are it’s when the doctors take one of your testicles out to operate on it and then they put it back in basically. Like I said, he was in extreme pain and I was just kind of hanging out with him getting high and watching television, wasting time. We were expecting company and he just let a few people out a few minutes prior to our intrusion so when we heard the knock on the door we just assumed that our guest had returned. When the door swung open all I could see was the bright lights from the police flashlights and the distinct look of gunmetal. I tried not to panic but when you’ve got warrants out for your arrest, it is difficult to stay calm when the law starts beating down your door.
Now you should be informed that while I was watching television with the old man and prior to the cops showing up he had gave me a couple of his prescription pain killers to give to my girlfriend until she got the cash to refill her own prescription. (She used to pass kidney stones once or twice a year and would be in terrible pain.) So when the police showed up I was smoking pot and scrambling around trying to get rid of any visible evidence of paraphernalia. I had completely forgotten about the pills I had stuffed inside my jeans and to make a long story a shorter one I wound up getting arrested for possession of a controlled substance that day.
That sort of lifestyle used to be normal for me and now I couldn’t see myself drinking a beer with friends in any sort of social setting. I used to work dead end jobs and now I am a full time student and this as become normal for me all of a sudden.
hey
Today for me will be about becoming a more passionate person because it seems like lately all the passion for the things I want have been drained right out of me. I know I want to be a good person and possibly open my own business and realize this american dream but besides that I don't really think I can completely own any one thing. But the assignment was not to invent ways to not be passionate but instead to right about something you love. Still what if you are all out of things to get worked up about and so desensitized to the world's flaming arrows that nothing seems to get under your skin annymore. Cause that is where I am. I exists in a state of I don't know what is next and I hope that I can allow God to lead me into avenues of right and wrong and trails of happiness someday but for fight now everday is just the same as the last and I am alk out of reasons to strive forward but I still can't give up. I am in a period of waiting.
I love basketball but I don't play it anymore. I love to write also but I don't really practice that either. Give me a minute or two to think of something and I will try to tell you about what I am passionate about but you won't like it. I am passionate about doing the right things to people and for them. I want to be the kind of man who makes and impact but I really suck.
I love basketball but I don't play it anymore. I love to write also but I don't really practice that either. Give me a minute or two to think of something and I will try to tell you about what I am passionate about but you won't like it. I am passionate about doing the right things to people and for them. I want to be the kind of man who makes and impact but I really suck.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
I can’t remember if I have written anything concerning this or not but even if I have your going to hear it again. I was reading in the bible about this guy who had cut off the thumbs and big toes of seventy kings and forced them to pick up scraps under his table. On one particular day he and his troops went out conquering and fighting and the lord made it so that all his men were decimated in battle and so he fled. When his enemies found him they cut off his thumbs and big toes and he declared, "The lord has repaid me for what I have done." Later in the same book I read about a different man who made it his mission to kill a certain king. He made a short sword and hid it by strapping it to his thigh, then when the time was right he ran the blade into the king’s abdomen so deep that the handle could not be seen. He was able to sneak past armed guards and out of town before anyone knew what he had done. Only when people did find out about it they pursued him with hundreds of men but he had made it into another city. His friend was willing to hide him in his home and offered the killer something to drink and somewhere to lay his weary head. However the friend’s wife found out the man was a guest in their home and crept up on him in his sleep and drove a tent spike through his temple, and he died. I have been having trouble making all the stories relate in my studies. I mean I get the fact that you reap what you sow but the other tales are just war stories to me and I can’t figure out their significance spiritually.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Ever since I started going back to school I have felt like I have renewed some purpose in my life yet there is still a hollow cavern dug out of all my prior misery that lingers beneath the surface. It begs to be released from its prison and I must keep it at bay on a daily basis. It whispers in my ear about the former pleasures of that retired lifestyle and sometimes I listen. I am at war with myself because I want to do the right things but I want also to feel good again. I want to feel the way I felt when life meant so much less and the consequences of a slip weren’t so high.
I have begun going back to church this year and it has been an interesting journey to say the least. Faith is just so hard to come by these days; it is a high priced commodity, just about the same as gas. It is the fuel that drives our salvation and without it, in the proper dosage, we all go to hell in a decadent hand basket.
At one point I gave myself over t the pleasures of my sinful nature and I did anything and everything I wanted to do without remorse. I made cash the easy way and I never devoted any of my time to helping anyone else. I never would inconvenience myself for anyone because I only cared about myself. If you had asked me two years ago what I thought was the most important thing in the world, I would have answered like a fool. I don’t know for a fact that I have changed all that much either because in my heart I know that I still listen to that voice. The one telling me that I will now and forever be alone.
I have begun going back to church this year and it has been an interesting journey to say the least. Faith is just so hard to come by these days; it is a high priced commodity, just about the same as gas. It is the fuel that drives our salvation and without it, in the proper dosage, we all go to hell in a decadent hand basket.
At one point I gave myself over t the pleasures of my sinful nature and I did anything and everything I wanted to do without remorse. I made cash the easy way and I never devoted any of my time to helping anyone else. I never would inconvenience myself for anyone because I only cared about myself. If you had asked me two years ago what I thought was the most important thing in the world, I would have answered like a fool. I don’t know for a fact that I have changed all that much either because in my heart I know that I still listen to that voice. The one telling me that I will now and forever be alone.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sometimes my friends and I will come up with an uncommonly used word and make it our word for the day. Sometimes we will play games to make the school day a little more interesting, like offering ten points for every successful use of the word in a sentence. Then at the end of the day we would make the guy with the least amount of points pay for lunch or beers. Sometimes it would be something like rigmarole or erroneous and other times it would be something like jabberwocky or fiddlesticks. I think that it is a very healthy thing to be able to entertain yourself and those who constantly need to be stimulated by an outside source are lacking in their connection with their inner child. I set out each day with the mindset to not even worry about the day before and to not become burdened by the things that I don’t have. I try not to think about what others may think of me and concentrate on being satisfied with my life as it stands right now. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to do better but it does mean that I am not in a constant state of misery because I can’t seem to see past what I don’t have. So today’s word of the day is touché, and it might just make you laugh if you used it and nobody knew you were playing you own little game. So why don’t you try it for yourself reader, and lighten up your mood, no matter how stressful things can become. Tomorrow’s word for the day is Hobson’s choice, go ahead and look it up, you might just learn something new.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Sometimes we lose track of what is important to us; sometimes we allow our first love to be overshadowed by all the other things in life. I have, in the last six weeks, been so preoccupied with finding a job that I have allowed my studies in school to start to take a back burner to this grind. I have let my bible studies take a back seat to this hustle and I am paying the price for those decisions with my emotional state. In the past six weeks I have been frustrated more than in the past six months and I have let an undercurrent of anger boil to the surface, which should have been buried with that old man in me. So this month I choose to rededicate myself to those things that I hold dear in my heart and I am trying to become a better listener of God’s word and just try not to babble on so much in prayer. What you need to know, if you don’t already, is my God is a jealous God. His word says that you shall have no other gods before him and in His book anything that comes first, before him, falls into that category. His still small voice whispers to me and says, “Phillip, pay attention to what you’re doing” it lets me know when I am in dangerous territory. I am always tempted to do wrong because I, in my very nature am prone to do the things that are easiest, but I, over the years have recognized this in myself.
A few days ago I talked to a woman who was fairly indifferent to religious belief systems. She had the perspective of most of the lost. She believes that there is a higher power in her life but at the same time refuses to call him by name. She has been swayed by the ideas of evolution and incorporated them into her own ideals. She is like most of my friends, who ask, “If God is real, then why do all these horrible things happen.” After about a half hour I had hoped that I explained my points, based on scripture, pretty well, but she was done talking. I think most people just don’t want to be held accountable in the end. Talking with her left me feeling spent and once again I was in a whirlwind of emotions.
A few days ago I talked to a woman who was fairly indifferent to religious belief systems. She had the perspective of most of the lost. She believes that there is a higher power in her life but at the same time refuses to call him by name. She has been swayed by the ideas of evolution and incorporated them into her own ideals. She is like most of my friends, who ask, “If God is real, then why do all these horrible things happen.” After about a half hour I had hoped that I explained my points, based on scripture, pretty well, but she was done talking. I think most people just don’t want to be held accountable in the end. Talking with her left me feeling spent and once again I was in a whirlwind of emotions.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
I have spent half of my time this spring break looking all over town for employment and the other half I have dedicated to serving lunch at the homeless shelter.
I don’t mind spending my time doing good things in the community like helping others at all. Monday the 24th I volunteered at OTC with the Hope Connection, it is a program geared to help the homeless in any way possible through the Burrell Center. They team up with most of the key facilities in Springfield so that the homeless can try to find housing, food, get identification, medical services and much more. City Utilities showed up as well as Habitat for Humanity to lend a helping hand. The Convoy of Hope provided non-perishable food items as well as bread. Six Area churches showed up to provide those little scripture pamphlets and prayer. People showed up from all over to volunteer to help these less fortunate people and I was just glad that I was able to be a part of that, because it makes me feel so good (plus I got a cool t-shirt).
The thing that has been bothering me is these interviews I’ve been having, it’s just too much drama for me. I saw a flyer hanging up at OTC for a place called Vector and so I called and talked to some rep for the company and they set up an interview with me for three o’clock that same day. I went and filled out the application but even upon entering the building they were in I started to wonder if I even wanted to work there. (I mean I might not be able to explain things to my audience in a way to make them feel like they are in the room with me but I think you’ll get the gist.) So I’m looking around and this guy is giving me some info on the history of the business, things like how large their average sales are and what kind of benefits they offer. Still all while he was talking to me I kept looking around at the condition of the building they were in and the paint peeling off the walls and all of a sudden, my spider sense started tingling. (You know that feeling you get that tells you you’re being set up for a fall).
I don’t mind spending my time doing good things in the community like helping others at all. Monday the 24th I volunteered at OTC with the Hope Connection, it is a program geared to help the homeless in any way possible through the Burrell Center. They team up with most of the key facilities in Springfield so that the homeless can try to find housing, food, get identification, medical services and much more. City Utilities showed up as well as Habitat for Humanity to lend a helping hand. The Convoy of Hope provided non-perishable food items as well as bread. Six Area churches showed up to provide those little scripture pamphlets and prayer. People showed up from all over to volunteer to help these less fortunate people and I was just glad that I was able to be a part of that, because it makes me feel so good (plus I got a cool t-shirt).
The thing that has been bothering me is these interviews I’ve been having, it’s just too much drama for me. I saw a flyer hanging up at OTC for a place called Vector and so I called and talked to some rep for the company and they set up an interview with me for three o’clock that same day. I went and filled out the application but even upon entering the building they were in I started to wonder if I even wanted to work there. (I mean I might not be able to explain things to my audience in a way to make them feel like they are in the room with me but I think you’ll get the gist.) So I’m looking around and this guy is giving me some info on the history of the business, things like how large their average sales are and what kind of benefits they offer. Still all while he was talking to me I kept looking around at the condition of the building they were in and the paint peeling off the walls and all of a sudden, my spider sense started tingling. (You know that feeling you get that tells you you’re being set up for a fall).
All my life I have had this love for the game of basketball, and my drive to be the best at what I do and my competitive streak has spilled over into other realms of my life. I started playing basketball when I moved to California when I was eleven and I haven’t ever stopped. It is a land of beaches and oceans and pure energy derived from the people. They have an attitude that keeps them from simply staying indoors and everybody seemed to be going somewhere. If you venture out to Venice beach you can see it all in a nutshell; the women tanning, (among other things) beat boys rocking to the rhythm of their own creative drum, the steroid pumping monster men, the countless kiosk selling their wares, and so much more. People riding boogie boards and surfers channeling their fears into gargantuan powerhouse waves, turning them into a thing of beauty. There are skateboarders and rollerblade crews chopping up their own street courses and the whole vibe screams to everyone, “get out and play!” It was in this land that I learned to run, dribble, and shoot my way past any pain or panic. It was basketball that took me away from the pressures of homework and it was basketball that earned me the praise of my peers. I became competitive because on the L.A. playgrounds, if you lose, even one game, you could be done for the rest of the day. There are so many people trying to get a good game in that hours can go by without another chance to play and so you’ve got to play to win. The brothers out there don’t care if your 14 or 41, the rule in the slums is, if you step up you’d better put up or shut up.
Ten years later, I live in Springfield and I am attending school to become a business major, I don’t think that the rules for the world of high finance are much different. You either produce or you too can be one of the thousands who fail every single year, so bring you’re a game.
Ten years later, I live in Springfield and I am attending school to become a business major, I don’t think that the rules for the world of high finance are much different. You either produce or you too can be one of the thousands who fail every single year, so bring you’re a game.
Sometimes it is difficult to admit to myself or to anyone else that I was the kind of wicked man the bible talks about, specifically the kind of man talked about in 2nd Timothy 3:6-7.
“ They are the kind who worm their way into homes and gain control over weak-willed women, who are loaded down with sins and are swayed by all kinds of evil desires, always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth.” I preyed on people who were emotionally deprived and I hunted those who were seeking what I could so readily provide. I wanted what was easy and something that I would not miss when it was gone. I wanted something I could pick up and subsequently throw away when I was done with it. I was a man whom had lowered his standards and values to a degree whereby I would put up with just about any kind of person in order to keep myself surrounded by someone. I can stand before an audience and God now unashamed because it was a place in my life that I feel I had to go through in order to be where I am today. They say that whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger but I for one think that in the process of becoming stronger, you just got to break a little. I went through a period where I just did what I needed to do in order to satisfy my hearts desires, even if just for a moment, with drugs and alcohol or in the brief ecstasy of an orgasm.
The last part of the verse talks about a man who is always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth. This is the part I have trouble with even still, because in the back of my mind I wonder have I truly changed. Am I simply going through the motions in order to escape a lifestyle I can’t seem to forget? Do I just posses a “head knowledge” of God the way I imagine him to be, or has His word dipped down into the cavities of my heart?
“ They are the kind who worm their way into homes and gain control over weak-willed women, who are loaded down with sins and are swayed by all kinds of evil desires, always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth.” I preyed on people who were emotionally deprived and I hunted those who were seeking what I could so readily provide. I wanted what was easy and something that I would not miss when it was gone. I wanted something I could pick up and subsequently throw away when I was done with it. I was a man whom had lowered his standards and values to a degree whereby I would put up with just about any kind of person in order to keep myself surrounded by someone. I can stand before an audience and God now unashamed because it was a place in my life that I feel I had to go through in order to be where I am today. They say that whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger but I for one think that in the process of becoming stronger, you just got to break a little. I went through a period where I just did what I needed to do in order to satisfy my hearts desires, even if just for a moment, with drugs and alcohol or in the brief ecstasy of an orgasm.
The last part of the verse talks about a man who is always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth. This is the part I have trouble with even still, because in the back of my mind I wonder have I truly changed. Am I simply going through the motions in order to escape a lifestyle I can’t seem to forget? Do I just posses a “head knowledge” of God the way I imagine him to be, or has His word dipped down into the cavities of my heart?
Friday, March 27, 2009
I was working at Red Lobster about three years ago as a fry cook and dishwasher on the evening shift. Anyone who has ever worked for a restaurant full of college students can tell you what the environment is like. During work the guys discuss their weekends of getting loaded and they brag about what waitress they had sex with the night before and many of them are not shy about naming names. Most of the ladies aren’t much different except the fact that they are a little more secretive about whom they tell their business to. I was the only black man working there at the time, which doesn’t matter too much to me except that everyone comes to me looking for a good hook up on pot. I ignored them for a few months but after a while I started to calculate how much extra money I could be making if I went back to a little small time hustle on the side and it wasn’t long before I was their guy. (Don’t act surprised about this little sliver of information because I have put these things behind me now but at the time getting money as quick as possible was usually my only concern.) I have given you a little insight on the atmosphere during work, but a few more months down the line and I am now knee deep in their world. Behind Red Lobster there is a Brown Derby and at least seven people would run over before, during, and after work to get a case of beer or the liquor of their choice. So everyday after work became a party, and after a while nothing seemed to matter so much. I was making money and I had a decent job and I had a woman that loved me down to my dirty underwear and I was content with things to a certain degree.
One Friday I went to this huge party at one of my co-workers places and I sold my pot and I had a few beers, and things were going how I expected them to go. One of the girls I worked with introduced me to a cousin of hers and I assumed she wanted to get high because this girl was the type to always want to get something for free. We talked and I waited for the begging to begin but it never came, she just wanted to get to know me, and right then and there I should have left, but my spider sense wasn’t tingling at all. There was no small voice telling me to check my watch because my girlfriend is sitting at home alone expecting me any minute. I can’t even try to blame the alcohol in my system because I never get that intoxicated but that night I was unfaithful. Not only that but I sat and enjoyed the entire party, sold almost a half pound of pot in four hours, and let her drive me to her house as if I was a single man. I had sex with that woman and I passed out in her bed until the next morning.
What do you say to the person you care about when you’ve cheated on them? Do you try and cover your tracks so that they never find out the truth and in the process dig a hole of lies? Or do you tell them the truth and deal with the consequences like a man. I knew what I should have done but instead of taking the road less traveled, I took the trail of the guilty and I lied to her, I told the best lie I could develop in the twenty minutes it took me to get home. In my heart I believe she knew the truth before I ever started talking.
One Friday I went to this huge party at one of my co-workers places and I sold my pot and I had a few beers, and things were going how I expected them to go. One of the girls I worked with introduced me to a cousin of hers and I assumed she wanted to get high because this girl was the type to always want to get something for free. We talked and I waited for the begging to begin but it never came, she just wanted to get to know me, and right then and there I should have left, but my spider sense wasn’t tingling at all. There was no small voice telling me to check my watch because my girlfriend is sitting at home alone expecting me any minute. I can’t even try to blame the alcohol in my system because I never get that intoxicated but that night I was unfaithful. Not only that but I sat and enjoyed the entire party, sold almost a half pound of pot in four hours, and let her drive me to her house as if I was a single man. I had sex with that woman and I passed out in her bed until the next morning.
What do you say to the person you care about when you’ve cheated on them? Do you try and cover your tracks so that they never find out the truth and in the process dig a hole of lies? Or do you tell them the truth and deal with the consequences like a man. I knew what I should have done but instead of taking the road less traveled, I took the trail of the guilty and I lied to her, I told the best lie I could develop in the twenty minutes it took me to get home. In my heart I believe she knew the truth before I ever started talking.
I have one of those prepaid phones and only like twenty cents left before I have to refill it. Normally nobody calls my phone anymore but this evening a dear old friend called me out the clear blue sky. Her name is kept secret to protect the innocent, I’ll call her Tory, we used to date in high school, and she was my first love.
Before tonight it had been almost eight years since I heard her voice and it just warmed my heart to know that somebody out there is thinking of me. I knew Tory before I ever knew what love was but we did care for one another in a way that most teenagers never take the time to investigate. She is the kindest, and most sincere person I have ever met and she holds a love for God in her deeper than I have ever been able to reach. I found her in the sea of Facebooker’s and Myspacer’s last year but I haven’t tried to get her number or call her because mostly all she ever talked about was her wedding plans.
However the other day she asked me for my phone number on the Internet and I gave it to her but I didn’t expect her to actually use it for some reason. When she called tonight she told me that I have been on her mind off and on through the years and that I was always very special to her. It is comforting to know that I didn’t actually kill every relationship I have ever been in and that somewhere this sweet woman still has a soft spot in her heart for me. She also told me that she wouldn’t be able to call me as often as she would like because she is a married woman now. I indicated that I understood but that I wouldn’t let our relationship become inappropriate because I respect her, I also told her that I have thought her fairly regularly since I left St. Louis. I told her that her calling me tonight makes me smile and I advised her not to be a stranger because at some point I want to catch up on old times even though we can’t talk all night on the phone like we used to. I didn’t have time to rattle off everything I wanted before my phone died and that is probably a good thing because I could have very well embarrassed myself over the telephone.
Sometimes when I’m bored on the computer I will flick back and forth through the picture albums of friends and given present condition, when I come across her pictures, I wonder what my life would be like if we had stayed together.
Before tonight it had been almost eight years since I heard her voice and it just warmed my heart to know that somebody out there is thinking of me. I knew Tory before I ever knew what love was but we did care for one another in a way that most teenagers never take the time to investigate. She is the kindest, and most sincere person I have ever met and she holds a love for God in her deeper than I have ever been able to reach. I found her in the sea of Facebooker’s and Myspacer’s last year but I haven’t tried to get her number or call her because mostly all she ever talked about was her wedding plans.
However the other day she asked me for my phone number on the Internet and I gave it to her but I didn’t expect her to actually use it for some reason. When she called tonight she told me that I have been on her mind off and on through the years and that I was always very special to her. It is comforting to know that I didn’t actually kill every relationship I have ever been in and that somewhere this sweet woman still has a soft spot in her heart for me. She also told me that she wouldn’t be able to call me as often as she would like because she is a married woman now. I indicated that I understood but that I wouldn’t let our relationship become inappropriate because I respect her, I also told her that I have thought her fairly regularly since I left St. Louis. I told her that her calling me tonight makes me smile and I advised her not to be a stranger because at some point I want to catch up on old times even though we can’t talk all night on the phone like we used to. I didn’t have time to rattle off everything I wanted before my phone died and that is probably a good thing because I could have very well embarrassed myself over the telephone.
Sometimes when I’m bored on the computer I will flick back and forth through the picture albums of friends and given present condition, when I come across her pictures, I wonder what my life would be like if we had stayed together.
I spent the first six months of 2008 in the Greene county jail and the next six in and out of programs and institutions trying to get all my ducks in a row. I lost my girlfriend of four years and I lost my home and almost all my possessions. At one point I just wanted to cry and at another point I just wanted to lash out and hurt everyone who had left me deserted in those cold cells to rot. I’ve gone through points where I didn’t want to do anything at all and I’ve gone through times when it seemed like no matter what I did I could not fill the hole in my heart. There were days when I felt like a ghost in a graveyard and moments when I would just sit at home in the dark and do nothing but drink cheap beer and wallow in defeat. I felt like I was defeated by life and I didn’t know how I wanted to proceed. Who will hire a convicted felon, and who will believe me now, I have said plenty of times before that this is the time for change but I always remained the same.
I sacrificed so much to ensure that things were taken care of at home and I risked it all not even knowing what I had then. Looking back I was a fool, but not for trusting someone but just for the fool hearted mistakes I made. Six months confined with your thoughts will put your whole life into perspective and somewhere between the third and fourth month in jail I decided that this time would be different. I decided that with or without help or possessions I would overcome. I was released from jail on June the 29th after being whittled down and humbled in isolation. It was blue skies that day and it seemed like every breath I took inflated not only my lungs but also my spirits, I was free again. It had been nearly three weeks since I had received a letter or a visit and so I didn’t really know where I wanted to go first but my heart led my directly to my loves house. The last time we had spoken to one another I had told her that I was probably going to prison and that I would be released sometime after thanksgiving and so my presence that day was sure to be a welcome surprise. My chest thumped at what felt like a thousand beats a minute, as I approached the front door, but I didn’t know what to expect, even as I knocked on the door, I prayed. For the last few months I thought about how I had spent at least a year of the past three years locked up. My lifestyle never really bothered me before I knew her but over time I realized that she suffered a great deal because of my stupidity. So as I knocked I was nervous, even though every letter I did receive told me that she loved me above all, I just hoped that it was still true. When she opened the door, her eyes sparked to life and her smile stretched from one ear to the other. I was overwhelmed with emotion and it took nearly all my strength to keep from stumbling backwards off the front porch as she rushed into my arms again.
I sacrificed so much to ensure that things were taken care of at home and I risked it all not even knowing what I had then. Looking back I was a fool, but not for trusting someone but just for the fool hearted mistakes I made. Six months confined with your thoughts will put your whole life into perspective and somewhere between the third and fourth month in jail I decided that this time would be different. I decided that with or without help or possessions I would overcome. I was released from jail on June the 29th after being whittled down and humbled in isolation. It was blue skies that day and it seemed like every breath I took inflated not only my lungs but also my spirits, I was free again. It had been nearly three weeks since I had received a letter or a visit and so I didn’t really know where I wanted to go first but my heart led my directly to my loves house. The last time we had spoken to one another I had told her that I was probably going to prison and that I would be released sometime after thanksgiving and so my presence that day was sure to be a welcome surprise. My chest thumped at what felt like a thousand beats a minute, as I approached the front door, but I didn’t know what to expect, even as I knocked on the door, I prayed. For the last few months I thought about how I had spent at least a year of the past three years locked up. My lifestyle never really bothered me before I knew her but over time I realized that she suffered a great deal because of my stupidity. So as I knocked I was nervous, even though every letter I did receive told me that she loved me above all, I just hoped that it was still true. When she opened the door, her eyes sparked to life and her smile stretched from one ear to the other. I was overwhelmed with emotion and it took nearly all my strength to keep from stumbling backwards off the front porch as she rushed into my arms again.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
You know what really burns my biscuits? You know what really revs my engine? You know what really lumps my oatmeal? You know what really drives me banana sandwich? You know what really grinds my gears? You know what really ruffles my feathers? You know what really smells like fish tacos?
When somebody says they forgive you, except every time you disagree about something, they dredge up your old mistakes from the murky depths of the past, so they can throw the proverbial water balloon in your face. I ask myself how far down this road must we go before I am truly forgiven? I ask myself why aren’t my present actions good enough to satisfy the flaws in me? I walk the line to overcome the doubt and I tip toe through the eggshells in order to rip away any lingering suspicions, that the change in me is real. They claim to have put the past behind them and they claim that we can move on but the truth is that they judge me in their heart of hearts. I wish they would speak their minds, instead of putting me through the whole rigmarole of “I forgive you.” Our relationship has boiled down to a steady diet of proving ones worth in order to maintain a certain peaceful balance that is both superficial and circumstantial.
No diamond is perfect, no matter how beautiful it is cut and shaped, still most of us value it not based on it flaws but simply in the strength of character brought to it by it’s imperfections. We search for clarity and often times we can only see through the dim mirror because of the disdain we harbor for one another. It has become a test of my patience to try and figure out people and their motives. I don’t know whether or not I am too sensitive or if I am just finely tuned to right and wrong because of my relationship with God the father. 1st Corinthians talks about real love, it says that love is patient and kind and that it is not easily angered and that love keeps no record of wrongs. No matter how scarred and stained people may become love will never fail us. People will fail you because it is in our nature but love will stand the test of time and I am inclined to believe God. I just wish I could get past the point when my emotions take over my ability to reason and correctly divide between what I feel and what I know to be true.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Why do men die over red and over blue? I can tell you right now it’s not because somewhere deep down inside these boys believe it’s worth it. They fight for what they perceive to be their family and that family just makes it a point to wear the colors on their crest. The Crips in L.A. will blow your head off your shoulders, if they feel like you have in some way violated their neighborhood, which carries a meaning of, “stay out” to all trespassers. The Bloods have spread all over the country and they will bleed for one another, but you’ve got to bleed just to get in a gang so prevalent and spastic as this. Gangs don’t trust a whole lot of people but many of them would spend a lifetime behind the concrete walls of a cell before they would violate their code of honor. Everyone in the ‘hood’ believes that snitches have their place lying in a ditch, so really it’s like the only choice for these gang members boils down to life or death. Will you let the circumstances eat you alive for the rest of your life and will you continue to watch your mama suffer or will you choose to do whatever it takes, by any means necessary? Their lifestyle is stiffly rebellion against the prewritten standards of a society, that chooses to place some men at the top and leave others drowning in the gutters. They rebel against the law that says thou shall not kill and thou shall not steal and they write their own books and their own laws. Laws like though shall not snitch, and don’t ever talk to the police. Not for no reason but because somewhere along the rocky road, in Americas stained history, men grew up with signs that read “Whites Only” and standing behind every brother like Martin Luther King Jr., was a man teeming with hatred for someone who hated him for no reason. They wrote rules like these because they figured out that they would always be black and they remained in slums because some of them started to believe the hype that they were second-class citizens. Some of them lived at a time when white police officers blasted black men down in the open streets with high powered water hoses and are even now still quite suspect of the authority put in place to protect. Gang members, I believe evolved from the bloodline that refuses to be taken for a fool, they are derived from the gene pool of slaves that chose to run and risk death than live under the thumb of an oppressor, so there remains this definite separation of peoples. Not just a separation between white people and black people but between Negroes and Niggas. The Negro told himself that one day we would rise above all this racial discrimination and hatred and grow to maybe even like one another. The Nigga told himself, “ The hell with society, if they don’t want us then we don’t want them. If they refuse try, then we’ll rob them suckers blind. They told themselves it’s us VS. Them.” Then their came crack cocaine, and that changed everything. Crack, was viewed by gang members, as a way to get rich quick and inside the poor population the dope thrived. Junkies were known to sell their souls for another blast and sons stole from their mothers to satisfy their addictions. From the east coast to the west coast crack spread across the nation. Young black brothers fed their families (both gang and biological) with the money made off of crack, and set in motion a stereotype that some black men have still yet to crawl from under. The mind state is simple, why work a nine to five everyday, only to bring home a couple hundred dollars a week, when you can lounge in the comfort and the protection of your projects and rake in a thousand dollars a day. It goes back to the attitude of rebellion, why would someone who hates the way the system has oppressed them for generations adhere to an economic status quo. It’s hard for a man to turn away from money when he has never had anything before and knows all to well the pleasures money can bring. Forget that the Bible says that money is the root of all-evil, what about the evil of watching your people be mistreated day in and day out. What about the evil of poverty?
Monday, March 23, 2009
The truth hurts
I guess I should start by posing the question, “Would you rather know the truth or be kept tame in a stew of lies?”
Sometimes I feel like a simple lie would be easier but all of us who have ever loved someone, knows how the truth can be surprisingly less painful than hearing a lie from a loved one. After so long, knowing somebody, you just kind of expect him or her to posses the kind of character, that won’t allow them to hide anything from your eyes. A lie can be like a dagger in the side and all of a sudden the trust has crumbled and then it’s gone. Your relationship becomes a game of chess and soon it seems so easy to allow yourself to get lost in a workday and often times we don’t even do what we used to do. Lies compound lies and after a while the time you spent loving one another affectionately, is wasted wiping the mud from your feet and covering up incriminating tracks. You wake up wondering, “How did we get here?” If you’d known that this thing would break her heart you’d have told the truth, but at the time the truth seemed to be rat poison, compromising everything. We have all heard the saying, “ The truth will set you free”, but sometimes it seems like we’re just damned if we do and we’re damned if we don’t. What ever happened to the love relationship, was it all just a myth to begin with? Are we all chasing some unattainable goal, or is there some real reason why man and woman choose to join together? Is monogamy a fallacy or is it possible for two people to come together and choose to remain faithful to one another in every respect. In my experience, youth and fidelity go hand and hand. Others marry their high school sweethearts and live happily ever after, or so they say. Maybe I am just to sensitive and need to realize that nobody goes his or her whole life through without drama of some kind. Is it how we arm ourselves for battle that makes the difference between life and death in a relationship? What is the difference between destructive lies and heart piercing truth?
Sometimes I feel like a simple lie would be easier but all of us who have ever loved someone, knows how the truth can be surprisingly less painful than hearing a lie from a loved one. After so long, knowing somebody, you just kind of expect him or her to posses the kind of character, that won’t allow them to hide anything from your eyes. A lie can be like a dagger in the side and all of a sudden the trust has crumbled and then it’s gone. Your relationship becomes a game of chess and soon it seems so easy to allow yourself to get lost in a workday and often times we don’t even do what we used to do. Lies compound lies and after a while the time you spent loving one another affectionately, is wasted wiping the mud from your feet and covering up incriminating tracks. You wake up wondering, “How did we get here?” If you’d known that this thing would break her heart you’d have told the truth, but at the time the truth seemed to be rat poison, compromising everything. We have all heard the saying, “ The truth will set you free”, but sometimes it seems like we’re just damned if we do and we’re damned if we don’t. What ever happened to the love relationship, was it all just a myth to begin with? Are we all chasing some unattainable goal, or is there some real reason why man and woman choose to join together? Is monogamy a fallacy or is it possible for two people to come together and choose to remain faithful to one another in every respect. In my experience, youth and fidelity go hand and hand. Others marry their high school sweethearts and live happily ever after, or so they say. Maybe I am just to sensitive and need to realize that nobody goes his or her whole life through without drama of some kind. Is it how we arm ourselves for battle that makes the difference between life and death in a relationship? What is the difference between destructive lies and heart piercing truth?
Circles
It has been said that a good man draws a circle around himself and his immediate friends and family and protects those inside. A better man draws a slightly larger circle, and a great man encircles his entire community at large and does everything to see to it that those within have the fullest life possible. It has been asked, “What kind of man are you”!
I want to be the kind of man who has no circle to draw but that does whatever good is necessary for those I can, freeing myself from the burden of hoisting every other persons pain up onto my shoulders, lest I fall. Without me knowing it many are watching what I do and how I respond to the trauma of life, and whether or not it is right they judge my actions. They judge because deep inside of them they want to bear witness to great men, even though many of them are to cowardice to accept the weight of greatness. I think there are many who would be willing but they allow circumstances to get in their way and others simply don’t want to be brought to shame. As far as my knowledge will go there has been but one man good enough to lift up the weight of the world and bear it unto death, and that man was Jesus the Christ. There have been others who claim to be good but the bible says that no one is good except God.
On the other end of the spectrum there are many evil people. Men like Adolph Hitler, whose minds are warped outside of human reality and men like Osama Bin Laden who have little regard for human life. Our lives are something to be protected but at the cost of others and religion is something to be respected but not if it is to back someone into a corner and make them choose between life now and eternity with ones beliefs.
I am the kind of man whom matters very little outside of that invisible circle that has been drawn for me and I believe that if I were to die tonight I would be remembered for a miniscule amount of time. After a while people would fight all the mess in their heads to recover thought of little ole me. So how exactly does a man go from, “a nobody”, to “a somebody”, from forgotten in the depths of mother earth to, written about in the pages of history? How exactly does one transform their character into the pedigree of champions? How does one go about erasing that old circle, big enough for a house and a dog, and marking out one that stretches in all directions as far the eye can see?
I want to be the kind of man who has no circle to draw but that does whatever good is necessary for those I can, freeing myself from the burden of hoisting every other persons pain up onto my shoulders, lest I fall. Without me knowing it many are watching what I do and how I respond to the trauma of life, and whether or not it is right they judge my actions. They judge because deep inside of them they want to bear witness to great men, even though many of them are to cowardice to accept the weight of greatness. I think there are many who would be willing but they allow circumstances to get in their way and others simply don’t want to be brought to shame. As far as my knowledge will go there has been but one man good enough to lift up the weight of the world and bear it unto death, and that man was Jesus the Christ. There have been others who claim to be good but the bible says that no one is good except God.
On the other end of the spectrum there are many evil people. Men like Adolph Hitler, whose minds are warped outside of human reality and men like Osama Bin Laden who have little regard for human life. Our lives are something to be protected but at the cost of others and religion is something to be respected but not if it is to back someone into a corner and make them choose between life now and eternity with ones beliefs.
I am the kind of man whom matters very little outside of that invisible circle that has been drawn for me and I believe that if I were to die tonight I would be remembered for a miniscule amount of time. After a while people would fight all the mess in their heads to recover thought of little ole me. So how exactly does a man go from, “a nobody”, to “a somebody”, from forgotten in the depths of mother earth to, written about in the pages of history? How exactly does one transform their character into the pedigree of champions? How does one go about erasing that old circle, big enough for a house and a dog, and marking out one that stretches in all directions as far the eye can see?
mid/late march
Is it strange for a young man to desire to have a family? I mean, I look around and my brothers and sisters all have these precious little ones to care for and I walk around feeling sorry for myself because I am alone. Shouldn’t I revel in my youth at this point in my life? Shouldn’t I be to the point where I just want to go to parties and drink till I am lost in the excitement of the night? I think that I started my wild life at such a young age that I am wore out from all the long nights and now I just wish that things would settle a bit. I want to shop for the groceries and be up late at night with my crying child. I want to be mindful of an anniversary and bring a smile onto the face of my wife. I want to celebrate the birthday of my children and watch their eyes light up on Christmas morning at the sight of their brightly wrapped gifts. I want to be a provider for more than just myself and grow old in the arms of some wonderful woman. I want to dislike my in-laws and attend PTA meetings and this is getting weird. What brings a man to the point when he no longer desires to wake up in the bed of a stranger? What causes him to become bored at the thought of spring break and stare into space when others speak of their trivial weekend exploits?
Tupac Shakur said it best, “ A young heart with an old soul, how can there be peace. How can I know who I am when there are two inside of me. This duo within me causes the perfect opportunity, to love and live twice as fast as those who accept simplicity.”
And although he said it best I don’t know if I can when the war. I battle daily and at this point, I am sick of myself. I’m just tired of making all my decisions based on the condition of my heart. I feel like I’m missing out on so much in my life by keeping everyone at arms length. Somewhere buried inside lays the fear that I might crack this fragile heart of mine. I can’t remember the last time I even hugged a woman or felt entirely comfortable lying down in my bed alone. And it’s strange because, although I push others outside my circle, I truly just want someone to let me care about them and allow myself to be comforted.
Tupac Shakur said it best, “ A young heart with an old soul, how can there be peace. How can I know who I am when there are two inside of me. This duo within me causes the perfect opportunity, to love and live twice as fast as those who accept simplicity.”
And although he said it best I don’t know if I can when the war. I battle daily and at this point, I am sick of myself. I’m just tired of making all my decisions based on the condition of my heart. I feel like I’m missing out on so much in my life by keeping everyone at arms length. Somewhere buried inside lays the fear that I might crack this fragile heart of mine. I can’t remember the last time I even hugged a woman or felt entirely comfortable lying down in my bed alone. And it’s strange because, although I push others outside my circle, I truly just want someone to let me care about them and allow myself to be comforted.
Friday, March 20, 2009
I grew up with two people in my life that I would do anything for. They were by no means the only people I would stretch out to help but they were the ones who I would choose to spend my free time with and till this day I would call and want to just be around. These guys are my cousins Aaron and Brandon, and I want to tell you just a little bit about these fine gentlemen. I was the oldest of the three of us but Brandon was the closest to me by three months. Growing up Brandon had it easy as far as we were concerned. He was a little bit of a cry baby and sometimes when he would spend the night at either of our places he would complain about how he wasn’t quite so comfortable there. I can remember on several occasions how Aaron and myself would try to scare him into peeing his pants after staying up all night watching movies. He turned out to be the only sane one in our little trio. Aaron had a spirit of adventure and would easily become bored if he had to sit in the house and do something us regular people did often. He just had to go out and get into something and many times that made the stays at his place very memorable. I can remember many near tragic accidents that happened to me in particular because of his wild schemes. One time we were swinging on a tree rope in the hood of East St. Louis and I fell like 15 ft. flat on my back into a mess of broken 40 ounce bottles. I was cut and bruised and I almost blacked out a few times. Another time I was chasing a ball into the street and a car came flying down the wrong way of a one-way street and hit me. I panicked and froze up like a deer in headlights and wound up inches away from the tires running over my head. I was completely under the vehicle but I wasn’t scared just shocked. It was all the hanging out with my cousin that got me to thinking at a very young age that God must have some kind of plan for my life. We were bad kids, I mean every single time our mothers turned around they were either rushing me to the hospital or being forced to clean up our messes. Still I would wait all year long for the summertime to come back around the corner so that we could spend that ever so cherished time again.
Now we are men and the time we spend with one another has grown short. Aaron has spent four years of his adult life in the penitentiary and since being freed, his girlfriend has given birth to a healthy baby boy, making him a father. Brandon has spent the last few years working a decent paying factory job in the union near St. Louis. He wed his high school sweetheart about a year ago and since is now the proud father of two, a boy and a girl. I, on the other hand, have returned to school and am searching for that adventure that used to be so prevalent in my life. I am searching for the fellowship I used to share with those two men in the faces of new friends but nothing seems to hold a fair comparison.
Now we are men and the time we spend with one another has grown short. Aaron has spent four years of his adult life in the penitentiary and since being freed, his girlfriend has given birth to a healthy baby boy, making him a father. Brandon has spent the last few years working a decent paying factory job in the union near St. Louis. He wed his high school sweetheart about a year ago and since is now the proud father of two, a boy and a girl. I, on the other hand, have returned to school and am searching for that adventure that used to be so prevalent in my life. I am searching for the fellowship I used to share with those two men in the faces of new friends but nothing seems to hold a fair comparison.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
So there's this girl in my English class that is goofy and weird and a great person in all respects and she is my friend now and that is good. Then there is this other girl in my Psych class that is very sexy and at times I don't know what to say to her. She doesn't show up to class on time and we for the most part don't have anything in common but the possibilities of something happening with us is on the verge on all my thoughts every Tuesday and Thursday. I think she has the perfect set of eyes and her skin tone is extraordinary. I notice everything about her and that drives me crazy for at least an hour or two after class but I haven't really done anything about it because in the end I want the next relationship I enter into to have some meaning.It's not as if I think she's not my type physically but on other terms I think it would be a stretch to say that we would make a good couple. I know I probably don't have any guys reading my blog but if there are, have any of you ever known something like this. I don't normally stress about women. I quote the mundane saying there are many other fish in the sea, but I must admit that there aren't many fish as exquisite as she. She rides her own horses and she works out on a regular basis. If you were to rate her body on a scale of one to ten you would be forced to give her at least a ten.
On the other end of the scale she doesn't show up to class on time and is currently failing psych, a class I don't seem to ever budget into my time but am still making an A in. I don't take her for stupid but I do think it's dumb to pay for a class that nobody is forcing you to come to and not put forth as much effort as you can, I mean at least try. I can't say that these facts have derailed me from wishing I was her pillow.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Goodbye
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I never wanted to say goodbye in the first place, ending our four-year long relationship was the hardest thing I ever had to endure. I have, on several occasions since our relationship ended, thought I saw her walking down the street or at the mall but it wasn’t her. It would seem that I see her face in every other woman I meet, most of the time it is harder for me to disassociate the memories of all the things we have been through together. I think of her when I’m not supposed to and when I’m not trying to and it just eats me up sometimes. Three weeks ago I saw one of those monkey like teddy bears at Wal-Mart and it took me back to a time when we went to the carnival and I won her something similar and surprisingly the emotion behind it stopped me in my tracks. I avoid going to places we used to eat at because I don’t want to think about her anymore. Does anyone know how weak it makes a man feel when he can’t seem to overcome something so small? It was a large portion of my adult years that carved out an empty space within once she was gone. It always seemed so cliché to me when I heard somebody say how a person can take a piece of you when they leave. I always thought that I would be ok, but I’m not. I struggle most days with the fact that I know she is never coming back and that at this point I don’t even want her anymore but a sour smell still remains. The first month after she left I cried and the second month I fumed but in the months to follow I prayed to God. I never wanted to say goodbye but in the end I never got the chance to end things on terms I could live with. I have questioned everything I thought was the problem in hopes of finding a remedy for why I can’t hang on to love.
My routine is probably the saddest thing you’ve ever seen, I get up in the morning and I look in the mirror and encourage myself. Not like a mantra or some self help chant but I try to remember that I am a good man and I do deserve love no matter what kind of mistakes I have made, and as if I could communicate with her very heart from afar I tell her goodbye.
I don't know freewrite
It's hard to admit but I am a double-minded man. Some days I wake up and I can be the most gentle person in the world. The most kind and humble man and generous to those whom I barley know. I can be full of words of encouragement and joy so that all who come in contact with me can feel, see, and know that I would never do them wrong.
Yet on ther days I am full of deciet and wickedness. I don't neccessarily mean to be so nasty sometimes, it's just that when I feel that I am right about a certain situation or vindicated in my actions I can stretch to the other extreme. I can one day tell someone how much I love them and the next be seen swearing about how stupid I think they are. Isn't that a little crazy, to have such strong feelins about a subject in one way or another and then feeling the complete opposite the next week.
I want to do good mostly and so if you were to ask me I would tell you that I am a decent man. I work hard not to quarrel with others and to be a gentleman when I feel that need. I don't like to take shortcuts when I do anything because I have learned that it often requires you to do more work than initially planned. I love to complete what I start and I do love the feeling you get when you give to someone. That feeling is likened to how you might feel when you make an infant smile or when you get the opprotunity to do something nice for your spouse. I love to give because I am immediatley rewarded and maybe that takes away from my point at hand. I am a good person but who am I trying to prove it to.I am a double minded man in that I am so introspective that I do truely know everything I need to do in order to attain what I what but sometimes I press on in a direction feeling like thier is no escape.Why?
Yet on ther days I am full of deciet and wickedness. I don't neccessarily mean to be so nasty sometimes, it's just that when I feel that I am right about a certain situation or vindicated in my actions I can stretch to the other extreme. I can one day tell someone how much I love them and the next be seen swearing about how stupid I think they are. Isn't that a little crazy, to have such strong feelins about a subject in one way or another and then feeling the complete opposite the next week.
I want to do good mostly and so if you were to ask me I would tell you that I am a decent man. I work hard not to quarrel with others and to be a gentleman when I feel that need. I don't like to take shortcuts when I do anything because I have learned that it often requires you to do more work than initially planned. I love to complete what I start and I do love the feeling you get when you give to someone. That feeling is likened to how you might feel when you make an infant smile or when you get the opprotunity to do something nice for your spouse. I love to give because I am immediatley rewarded and maybe that takes away from my point at hand. I am a good person but who am I trying to prove it to.I am a double minded man in that I am so introspective that I do truely know everything I need to do in order to attain what I what but sometimes I press on in a direction feeling like thier is no escape.Why?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
My Dreams
As a child I had the most fantastic dreams. For a time my subconcious simply wandered about when I slept but at about the age ten I learned that I could control events as they unravled in my mind. This knowledge was a breath of fresh air at least pertaining to going to bed as a young boy.Now when I slept I would walk myself through a day at school or I would imagine myself as some rich entreprenuer, living the good life. In my dreams I could never die, No matter what disasterous situations I managed to build for myself. In my dreams I even taught myself to fly, and that is how, even to this day, I travel from place.
I know what most of you probably do, I would assume you just think about where you want to be and travel at the speed of thought. You probably think Im wasting time or something but it's just fun if you have a big imagination. I love being able to exit out of the real world for a moment or two in my dreams without the use of drugs or something.I wonder if any of you have dreams about.
I know what most of you probably do, I would assume you just think about where you want to be and travel at the speed of thought. You probably think Im wasting time or something but it's just fun if you have a big imagination. I love being able to exit out of the real world for a moment or two in my dreams without the use of drugs or something.I wonder if any of you have dreams about.
Have you ever
have you ever had one of those days that makes you wish you never even got out of bed at all. At the end you look back and you still can't quite figure out how you wound up so sore and mentally depleted. Somewhere along the road something precious has been snatched from you but you've gone to far to retrace your steps and you realize the chances of recovery are nil.
Have you ever failed to make a choice for fear of history repeating itself? Ever had that eerie feeling of Deja-vu come to fruition?
Have you ever had the words, " I love you " on your lips, only to let the moment of opprotunity slip away?
Your heart is unlocked
but your tounge is chained
Your spirit is full of courage
In your mind the fear remains
Because a "Yes" is like sugar
And a "NO" is hard salt
Rejection slices through your viel
So all can see your flaws and faults
The akwardness of silence
Allows a doubt to slither in
You stutter and you stammer
Tryign to find somewhere to begin.
That's just a little freestyle anicdote for all my fans out there. LOL
Have you ever failed to make a choice for fear of history repeating itself? Ever had that eerie feeling of Deja-vu come to fruition?
Have you ever had the words, " I love you " on your lips, only to let the moment of opprotunity slip away?
Your heart is unlocked
but your tounge is chained
Your spirit is full of courage
In your mind the fear remains
Because a "Yes" is like sugar
And a "NO" is hard salt
Rejection slices through your viel
So all can see your flaws and faults
The akwardness of silence
Allows a doubt to slither in
You stutter and you stammer
Tryign to find somewhere to begin.
That's just a little freestyle anicdote for all my fans out there. LOL
Cathing up
I should be bombing my psych class right now but I'm not and for the most part I don't really know why. My world has changed so much in every tangible way and in every emotional way as well.It seems that true change is definitely a slow fade. I hace met my own needs at the bottom of the scale pretty well, things such as food water and shelter. I have set goals toward other needs such as this pursuit of higher education and a career in the future, but all of those things are very basic. Yet the other needs I tend to neglect and I think have not been regarded because something in me says that they are unattainable. What does a man become if he chooses to bypass all of his deepest core desires and overlook his wants because they go agianst his beliefs in God? Is he considered to be a 'good man' to his peers or his he seen as a blacksheep throughout his culture? That's how I feel about my life to this point, I feel as if I put myself through unneccesary strain because I refuse to adopt the same beliefs as a large majority of the young people. I don't drink because I used to and I know where that leads you. I don't get high on anything because I watched people throw thier lives away in a bottle of alcohol and crack cocaine.
Everytime I do something God pays me back quick. One time I stole a pack of cookies form the store and then when I got home I didn't have the keys to get in the house. I had to call the locksmith and it cost me like 65 dollars to get them to come open the door for me. That was the most expensive pack of cookies I have ever bought in my life.I just want to do the right thing but often times the lines are blurred between the right and the accpetable. These days so much is accpetable but it is wrong and I try not to straddle the fence on issues. I just dont know sometimes, I mean I like women and I like to remain stimulated but what does HE want from me. The bible says that the man who looks at a women with lustfull eyes has already committed adultery in his heart. Folks I will struggle with that one til He takes me home.
Everytime I do something God pays me back quick. One time I stole a pack of cookies form the store and then when I got home I didn't have the keys to get in the house. I had to call the locksmith and it cost me like 65 dollars to get them to come open the door for me. That was the most expensive pack of cookies I have ever bought in my life.I just want to do the right thing but often times the lines are blurred between the right and the accpetable. These days so much is accpetable but it is wrong and I try not to straddle the fence on issues. I just dont know sometimes, I mean I like women and I like to remain stimulated but what does HE want from me. The bible says that the man who looks at a women with lustfull eyes has already committed adultery in his heart. Folks I will struggle with that one til He takes me home.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
03/14/09-
I don’t have any Idea what to say I think that most people love me and my heart can only take so much trouble. It is very hard for me to explain the way I feel because maybe I don’t really know. I think so much about me and what is going on in my own personal life that I don’t have time for anything else and I think that is why I have failed in most relationships. Everything is a two way street I don’t even want anything special from the people I know but something in me is so green I just tend to get my feelings hurt too easily and I tend to wind up saying all t he wrong things to all the wrong people and I don’t even want to go on. If I could do anything I would move back to Long Beach California and start all over and try to push all these poor thoughts out of my head and start trying to get into a mindset where I can live. Truly live and not worry about fast cars and diamonds for the girls and what seems to be trendy now. I just want to finish school and make a little money but enough about me what about you darling sees. I don’t know if I’m even doing t his exercise right or not. I know there aren’t many rules to free writing but to just be continual and I guess that feeling that you’re not really getting much accomplished will soon vanish like a puff of smoke and I can learn to be a little more creative but what other purpose does it serve other than a warm up of sorts. I need. I need so much of this writing class that it hurts. I don’t think I do well.
Friday, March 13, 2009
What's In The Way
Lying in the road this morning was a dying calf mooing for the entire world to hear. I being a concerned citizen slowed my vehicle. I didn’t want to hit the poor creature so I simply went around it but as I made headway it seemed to grow larger in the rearview mirror. Maybe I’m too sensitive but something was tugging at my very soul saying, “Go Back”. I slammed on my brakes but not out of necessity but because I was upset. I knew I had to go back for the beast and at least try to help but I was running late already. Against my own will, being pulled by the will of some other I went back for what’s in the way, for what’s blocking my path.
Oreo's- 03/13/09
A few days ago a lady friend of mine told me I was the "whitest" black man she knew. When I first heard this I laughed, but later that evening as I reflected on her words I let myself become offened. Being black nowadays isn't about skin color but it's more about culture and peoples predetermined perceptions of what that culture should be. I wonder if, as a black man in america, I should speak poorly and use more slang in conversation than proper english. I ask myself, does a shirt that fits, or a pair of pants that fails to sag, take away from my culture or does it add to it? I guess I got upset because the greater part of me would hope that when people in the world saw me, educated, well spoken, and humble, would not assume I was playing some "Uncle Tom" role. I would hope that those who knew me and all of the wrong I've done, like pushing dope on the hopeless, and using women as I willed, could see the genuine change in my heart through my actions. I hope that those who knew me would understand that I choose to seperate myself from those who live like what they see in the media.
I saw my friend again yesterday and i brought up her comment again jokingly, saying " Gal Ima start sportin' a gold chain an git me a gangsta grill. Shorty Ima putcha out on the corner next week so you could make me my paper to pay fo all dis lavishness." Then I watched the reaction written all over her face.
I saw my friend again yesterday and i brought up her comment again jokingly, saying " Gal Ima start sportin' a gold chain an git me a gangsta grill. Shorty Ima putcha out on the corner next week so you could make me my paper to pay fo all dis lavishness." Then I watched the reaction written all over her face.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
03/12/09
I woke up this morning and found a long letter goodbye on our nightstand and was simply frozen in bed. I can't say that I was shocked, I just didn't want to move, I didn't want today to be the day when she finally wrenched away. Feels like I've known this day was on the brink for quite some time now but I just never did anything to stop it, and maybe there was nothing I could do. There are no tears this morning, it's just sort of hard to breathe and I feel very groggy all of a sudden. It's time to pull that dusty mask out of the closet and dawn my power tie for another day at the office, although working this job is the last thing on my mind now.
Three cups of coffee later and I'm still half asleep attempting to review her last words to me in my mind. Part of me is frustrated because of everything I have sacrificed to make things work for us, while she takes the cowards way out. Another part of me is still too tightly connected to let my heart say goodbye. Still I reluctantly head out my front door on my way to write my sports column like I have done everyday for the past two years. Oddly I decided to stop at Panera Bread this morning to get a muffin and a more powerful cup of coffee, and as I was headed in, there was this couple headed out. Being the gentleman that I am I held the door for them and they went past me they locked hands, and thier simple display of affection for one another tugged the cloak away from my heart and I was at once vunerable again. I let out a long heavy sigh and for a moment I could be still and then the comfortable fear eased itself into position, while I scrambled to pick up what was stripped from me in those few seconds and I continued to walk into Panera as if nothing had happened. If someone were to have been watching me they would have noticed nothing so I simply ordered and sat in a table towards the back. I was already a few minutes late for work by this time so I thought to myself what's a few more minutes, if it will allow me to center my thoughts, if it will provide me some sense of calm.
Three cups of coffee later and I'm still half asleep attempting to review her last words to me in my mind. Part of me is frustrated because of everything I have sacrificed to make things work for us, while she takes the cowards way out. Another part of me is still too tightly connected to let my heart say goodbye. Still I reluctantly head out my front door on my way to write my sports column like I have done everyday for the past two years. Oddly I decided to stop at Panera Bread this morning to get a muffin and a more powerful cup of coffee, and as I was headed in, there was this couple headed out. Being the gentleman that I am I held the door for them and they went past me they locked hands, and thier simple display of affection for one another tugged the cloak away from my heart and I was at once vunerable again. I let out a long heavy sigh and for a moment I could be still and then the comfortable fear eased itself into position, while I scrambled to pick up what was stripped from me in those few seconds and I continued to walk into Panera as if nothing had happened. If someone were to have been watching me they would have noticed nothing so I simply ordered and sat in a table towards the back. I was already a few minutes late for work by this time so I thought to myself what's a few more minutes, if it will allow me to center my thoughts, if it will provide me some sense of calm.
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