The Coquette Effect


Eyes twice glazed over, he sat there watching her. He could see her in the bedroom through the living room mirror. The bedroom door was open, exposing her in nothing but what she was born with. It was as if she knew he was watching, the way her body twisted, the moves she made. She spread lotion like warm butter to buns. Her back was facing him, and she bent down slowly, her hands clasping her left ankle. His head tilted as she bent, his eyes following every move she made. She could get anything she wanted from him, and he didn’t want to admit it was true. He didn’t know how he got himself into such a predicament. He didn’t even have the chance to think about it because he realized she was staring back at him through the mirror. Her grin said it all…she knew what she was doing. The bedroom door slowly closed, cutting off his line of sight. It was hard…being so close, yet so far away from someone he wanted but couldn’t touch. And he knew…he knew she did what she did, what she does constantly, in so many way…with purpose.

Power. The addiction of all addictions. So many women, for so many reasons, use the power of manipulation to rise to power positions. The action of manipulation does not always have to involve the act of sex, however to some women that is the quickest route. I am not here to judge, just stating the obvious.

The man, in today’s world, is still seen as the most powerful human species on the planet in most eyes. So, when a woman can effectively manipulate a man of power two things happen: 

  1. She first gains the attention and admiration of the powerful figure
  2. The power he had, has now transferred.

The power flows from him to her with each broken barrier, and vulnerability succumbs him. It’s a mental game, and she’s made a power play. It’s the art of manipulation. The addiction is within the knowing that she has what it takes bring such a powerful person down to his knees. The addiction is in the process (whether long or short) of seeing that man go from hulk to human, and kneeling at her heels.

So, what happens when the game is recognized and adversary plays are drafted and put into action? That man becomes the hulk he once was. What does she do? Move on to the next? And the next…until they all know her blueprint. Or maybe she does it until she grows older and less attractive? Until she has no option but to find the power, to find power within, and rise to the occasion. Discovering that of one’s self will truly display the art of mind manipulation.

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The Gambler Effect


Heat radiated from her skin with each memory of his touch. She grinned as she heard the ruffling of the sheets as he moved. With her back towards him, she felt his arm slink around her waist. The bed slightly rocked with his movement. His deep baritone sounded off, “So what are you about to do?” Her smile slowly faded as she took her cue with minimal conversation. She found herself exiting his apartment, as her mind went a mile a minute. She came to the conclusion that this was the last time.

Days tuned to weeks and that last time was her last time, but at this point she didn’t think it was by choice. 11:47pm. Her phone nearly buzzed off the nightstand, and his name illuminated across the screen. With what she wanted to believe was a long drawn, hesitated reaction, she answered. The anticipation of the content of the conversation sent shock waves rippling through her spine. His voice rang out, “Come over, I want to see you.” She didn’t even recall her dress and travel, as she found herself facing that oh so familiar apartment door. With heat radiating from her skin…

Addiction. Just like any other addiction, there is a sort of adrenaline rush involved. In this instance there is a dire need for the anticipation just before she see’s or speak to this man. Unbeknownst to her, and most of women in these sort of situationships, it is not that man at the root of the addiction but the feeling we get just before the encounter. The excitement. The longing for the moment just before we lay eyes on him. The rush of knowing the risk-assumed behavior we are indulging in. Risking your vulnerability, and even more. With risk comes reward, right? Maybe. Maybe not.

When you walk up to a black jack dealer, do you know for sure you are leaving with what you are investing in the game? And even if you don’t win that day, you may just go back. Why are you going back? For the adrenaline you get when you sit down at the slot machines and you reach for the handle. For the moment you have all the lucky numbers and you are just waiting for that last digit to hit. That feeling…until that feeling is gone because your weren’t that lucky that time so you decide to finally walk away.

But then…someone else sits at your machine and that jackpot you so badly thought was yours now belongs to them. Chin up young lady, that jackpot was never yours to win. Self control is the lesson in addiction.

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Alone


A dark room. Pitch black. A spotlight blisteringly beams.

She stood in the midst of the spotlight, in the middle of the room. A shell of a human. What a shell of a human…

Scared and without sight. The spotlight goes out and though she is without sight she can feel the difference.

It is drafty. It is quiet. It is loud – with white noise.

A gut-wrenching scream pierces the depth of the silence as she clutches her right side, beads of sweat form upon her temples, and the feeling of liquid pours within her hands. Thicker than water, warmer than room temp…she knows.

One single click echoes throughout the room, she can feel the heat cascading onto her from above. The spotlight is back on shining brightly upon her, but not for long as the light slowly dims to the darkness that she’s once felt. The draft returns as if it has a rightful place upon her skin. Her pain is immense and her fear is real. She wants to run, yet fear of the unknown keeps her still. She feels as though what’s happening and what’s to come she can withstand.

A crucial blow pierces her chest as she simultaneously places her foot forward. So intense that it knocks her to the cold cement floor. The air escapes her lungs and mouth, unclenching her wounded rib cage she clutches her chest. She comes in contact with a cold metal object propelling from the core of her. She wants to yell for help, scream in agony, in hopes that someone will hear her and remove this dagger from her chest. She musters the energy to try to rise. She knows she has to make a run for it, no one was coming to her rescue anytime soon.

And as soon as she was upright, she felt the heat. The spotlight. A torn feeling fell upon her. When the heat of the spotlight graced her flesh she knew…she knew she was safe from the inflictions of pain…she knew too, it would only be momentarily. So with one hand to her chest, securing the position of the dagger and the other clutching her broken and exposed rib cage, she ran. The spotlight flows and follows as she ran…10 feet…she struggles…an additional 6 feet…she pushes…26 more feet.

She ran but the absence of the spotlight stopped her in her tracks and then almost immediately she heard another echoing click. She exuded excitement with the thought that it was the sound of the reappearing spotlight granting her a chance to flee but what brought her from her fantasy was the lack of heat felt and the presence of the cold floor and her left knee connecting. Her body crashed to the ground she had no additional hands to tend to her broken limb. There she lie. The pain numbing her. She was exposed.

The vultures caused damage to the frame of her soul…the core of her spirit. They took away her ability to run away from her brokenness. And her sight…in this moment that was not something taken from her, fore that was something she was born without…raised without. She never had the ability to see a positive model on how the components of the soul should be cherished.

Motionless. Alone. She lies there, figuring it out. Eternally, the spotlight is on

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The Beautiful Psyche


Disclaimer: All women are different, in different ways. The expressions below may not apply to all women.

something that incites to action or exertion or quickens action, feeling, thought, etc.
— Stimulus ( pl. Stimuli)

In psychology, some would define a stimulus as a change in energy received by the senses. I would hope you remember your five senses right? Great!

Now day in and day out we hear men say that the way women think is abnormal, unconsituted, and even illogical. Women are emotional, unstable creatures of the world they say. Well men, I would prove you wrong if it were possible. There’s always some exceptions, however you’re  correct.

Let’s think about it: We should agree that every action has a reaction. Go back to the basics people, we know this, we learned this in school. So, as the emotional, unstable creatures of the world it should concurringly be known that our emotions are evoked by the stimuli which feeds our senses. Sound familiar? Action | Reaction

If a woman sees that the love of her life is showing affection to another woman it may push her to slash a tire or two. Hey, now I’m not saying it’s ok to go around giving your boyfriend’s tires a little surgical procedure. I am saying that here we have a stimulus (the action of her lover giving affection to another.) We have that stimulus causing a shift in energy (the rage gained from what was witnessed.) Now, the reaction…could have been handled differently to say the least.

Now to my wonderful male reader who couldn’t quite grasp the message in that last example due to the cloudiness that was the craziness, I can do you one better. Let’s talk about sex! 

Remember: Action | Reaction  &  Stimulus | Energy Change

With a lot of women, sex is not all about the physical. In most cases, its majority mental stimulation that drives the appetite. [Hey there’s that root word again!]

You can have sex with your woman and not talk to her at all. You don’t caress her one time, nor do you allow her to caress you at her own discretion. [Talk, Caress | Hear, Touch | Senses] This could be a recipe for a Sahara Sandwich.  -OR-  You could do all of these things and you both are as happy as Flipper in the deep blue sea. Here we have a stimulus (the action of talking and/or caressing.) We have that stimuli causing a shift in energy (the inticement/emotions gained through her senses.) Now, the reaction…imagination can get you further here.

 Breaking it down to say, it is not inhuman to be driven by emotion. Sometimes as not only women, but human beings, embracing how you feel is not so bad, and rewarding on occasions. Controlling (…or not controlling) your actions behind those emotions is an entirely different story of which I have no experience to share, so if you feel like there should be a part two to this post on how to do so…don’t hold your breath.

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Guardian of Peace


A Moment in Time

At times I crave safety. Security. Though not endangered physically, I yearn for a safe haven away from the inner workings of my mind.

Sometimes, I dream of a moment. A time in space where silence falls and my unconsciously conscious mind mutes. All the while I am submersed within the grips of you. Your arms come together to form what becomes the lock which blocks the wonders of the world from seeping through. The circumference of your position is the vault custom made for me.

Your heartbeat is the key. It has all the power.

It has the power to keep my focus on the nothing that is taking place at that very instance. It has the power to unlock my vault and throw me to the wolves that await to devour my peace of mind. Most importantly, it has the power to keep me, shield me. To give such a beautiful moment.

A moment of which everything matters, yet nothing matters at all. A moment in which everything is in existence, yet there is no movement whatsoever. A moment of pure bliss. Of safety. A moment of security. A moment of you…of me. A moment of simply being.

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Luxurious Release 2: Undone


This is the bittersweet misery beloved by what used to be.

The windshield is greater than the rear view. This is so for a reason. Rear view recollections causing momentary visual impairment to what is forthcoming. This can cause collision. This may cause setback. This will result in lessons learned and newly-founded appreciation. This will reveal the reflection…of you.

To be a witness of what was not bestowed upon me unravels the deepest of emotions known to [wo]man. For it is not what makes a flame ignite, but makes a soul quiver. It has potential to shatter each quadrant of the heart with only a single breath taken. It fuels doubt, both self and oppositional. It hinders confidence to the point of mere darkness.

To come undone permanently, under the pressures of you…means that I have not gained one lesson. Though ephemeral…ephemeral means that I am still human.

The happiness that lies within your life is music to my ears, yet and still it’s the sun in my eyes. Wanting to bathe and bask in the sun though it’s just too difficult to remain attentive. For this, I look away. For this, I shade my sight of you. For this, I travel far away even if only for a night or two.

With distance I can breathe again. My airways are clear and roadways are widely open. My heart has normal rhythm. I’m back on road and my mind is simply hoping, that the wide screen of the windshield will deter me from the rear. The promising vision of what’s beyond, it’s not a mirage and goddamn I’m nearly there.

 

This is to you
This is too you
This is for me

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The Beautifully Insane: Renewing Love


Let’s discuss the hopeless romantic. The ceaseless broken-hearted. The lover of love. We will label this person a woman. Though there may be many men whom fit these adjectives, this one is for my warm-hearted women.

She comes into womanhood with a heart big enough to bring world peace. Willingly, she gives her all [heart] to a singular person with hopes that the gesture is reciprocated. She goes through hoops, trials, and heartbreak in hopes that her feelings aren’t taken for granted. With hopes that the feelings are mutual. After however long, she realizes that she began the phases of mourning: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Once the final stage is upon her there is momentary relief, a chance to get to know herself a bit more. However, after small relief her heart yearns for companionship and it happens to fall in her lap again. For whatever reason, the cycle continues down the same path for some time.

...doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results
— Albert Einstein on Insanity

In this situation I would pose the question: Is it insanity to continuously open your heart to others with hopes that it will be handled with care? Is it naive?

Is there a point in time where she should say enough is enough, I will not allow my passion to give love destroyed me? Do we believe this is wise or do we believe this is bitter? Let’s look at it. While one woman goes the hardened heart route the other goes through the cycle once more.

Ms. Tough-titts shuts down every new relationship she encounters in fear of another tragedy. She becomes the guardian of her own heart no longer able to recognize what’s in its best interest and what isn’t. Do we label her wise? Or do we label her coward? Some may label her bitter. Or some may label her a bitch.

Is it better to act negatively as a result of a negative outcome? With those negative views and fears comes the negative stereotyping. Now, though the way others think of you reflects upon themselves and not upon you, it is safe to say that it causes momentary influence on your spirit.

On the contrast, Ms. Insanity is whirled within the cycle yet again. Entering the cycle with a smile, a broad heart, and a light spirit. She now has one more outcome than Ms. Tough-titts. Either she will go through and end the cycle as she did before or something great can emerge due to what she is willing to offer. The difference in these two women and what they are willing to offer is simple and can be concluded in one word: Faith.

They say that faith is complete trust and belief in the unseen. When that faith in love becomes so great to the point where the cycle is no longer the case, the unseen becomes physically visible and spiritually felt. Insanity then becomes a flourished, thriving state of mind.

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Beauty in Unity: Black Lives Matter Edition


The world as of today has far too many tragedies taking place. Lives are being taken in one too many countries. From terrorism, to racism, to trafficking, to slavery…HUMAN lives are being taken.

What value do you put on a single human life? Does one man’s life mean more than another? To whom? That is the real question. And who gives this person the right to pass the judgment that one man’s life is more inestimable than the other?

In one of the most popular, structured, “free” countries in the world there is turmoil. Disquietude flows throughout the United States of America for the umpteenth time. Our clocks were set back 100 years slowly and unnoticeably, we are trying to pushing them forward by 50, but there is more work to do, especially to become current.

How do we live in a world with laws manufactured by historic white Americans, amended by historic white Americans, and dictated by descendants of those same white Americans? How does the LAW justify the wrongful deaths of African Americans committed by LAW enforcers? Take a look at that last sentence…who’s side is the law on?

Let’s take a minute to clear the air on the black-on-black crime push back which has nothing to do with African American men (and women) being brutally and wrongfully punished to the point of death by law enforcement:

Though its not condoned either, it’s simple. African American kills another African American, it’s a far better chance that wrongdoer will be arrested and sent to prison which brings justice to the family of the innocent.

Let’s look at the issues we’ve faced so far: Law enforcer kills inculpable African American, either within or out of the scope of duty, law enforcement immediately get placed on administrative leave. Investigation commence. Federal refuses to take part in investigation. Local investigation ends, it’s tried, and law enforcement is rendered not guilty.

Is it a bit clearer now? The only thing that needs to be said at this point in time about blacks in regard to other blacks is that now is the time to unite and demand that the law is TRULY amended to include African American’s right to life and equality. What does it take for this to happen? Seeing gang rivals come together to promote peace among the black community is shocking and amazing to see. The peaceful protests around the world is a beautiful beginning. Still as this is taking place lynchings are happening in the south. More police-involved shootings are taking place.

What does it take to let the world know this is a real issue?

Maybe it took this headline....

2 Dallas officers Shot

 

Or this headline.....

10 Dallas officers shot; 3 killed

 

Maybe the final Headline

14 people shot by sniper in Downtown Dallas. 12 officers, 2 civilians; 5 officers killed. The worst attack on law enforcement since 9/11.

Violence will NEVER counteract violence, and it is not the answer. What it WILL do is bring severity to the situation. So many hearts and prayers go out to the people who were harmed in this violent attack after a peaceful protest. Condolences are sent to the justly officers who were caught in the crossfire, to their families, to their justly partners who stayed back to help them and the civilians of Dallas to safety while risking their lives in the crossfire. You justly officers will forever and always have our gratitude.

What we need to keep in mind is that even with this being a senseless act of crime, it is a RESULT of wrongful acts of unjustly, timid officers across the world. The honorable officers and civilians who were harmed should not have to pay for the souls of the unjust, especially not with their lives, but the number one question is: Who should?

We need answers. We need results. We need peace, love, unity, and equality. We need it now.

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A Luxurious Release: Letting Go


You know when you want something so badly that you go unimaginable lengths to obtain it just to realize you didn’t really need it?

Well this isn’t that…

This is a matter of the psyche…when your mind and soul tells you that you need something so badly to the point that you go lengths to keep it. This is about hoarders. There’s not just one type of hoarder.

There’s the hoarder that harbors emotions. Either emotions for a person, toward a person, or maybe even just as a result of a situation. It gets to the point where you rather go blind than see that person walk away. You rather scratch your eyes out than to see them happy. You rather disappear than deal with the situation at hand. It becomes apart of who you are, and you do everything humanly possible to keep that feeling.

WHY?

When you are at the stage where these emotions are embedded into everything that makes you who you are, who are you without them? That’s the frightening thing about it all, that’s the sole reason for you to keep it all inside. Though we fight to hold on, we all have a breaking point.

Once you breakdown there is nothing else to do but rebuild. Rebuilding means starting from the bottom up…starting from scratch. Rebuilding means having courage. It takes courage to strip yourself of each element that you used to define who you are, no matter if it’s people or things. Separating yourself from those things and looking at the naked truth is a strenuous task. Being comfortable with what you see is even more difficult. With this though, comes gratification and appreciation. When you can truly accomplish this you can take from those harbored emotions; a lesson…instead of those emotions taking from you; your peace of mind.

This is the process of letting go….

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Broken Mirrors


Internal troubles. External influences. All that is in me is torn. What to thinkversus how I feel is a constant battle upon me. I know who has wronged me. Inconsideration can feel stronger than hate, it can cut like a dagger and burn like a flame. Only when someone I care for is using it as a weapon against me, either knowingly or unknowingly.

I try, Lord knows I try. I come from stone to stick..overtime. Easily breakable. I have deeply rooted issues. Weeds planted, that have sprouted within 25 years. Most of what I have yet to fully dig up. A victim, I could portray to be…but I am not. I know who has wronged me. I know who I have wronged. An angel I am not, and I have no excuse. Forgive me for my words, forgive me for my actions. Forgive me for yourself and not me. Charge it to my head and not my heart. Because I am mentally fucked up and trying to drift those two apart.

I am no ones enemy nor am I anyone’s savior. That’s something I have to remind myself time and time again because I can always grab a cape and be there when needed. But I need to save myself. I am my worst enemy and I can’t blame anyone else. I compensate only by helping others. If I take on your problems I have less time for my own. Less time to figure out the root of my deepest concerns because I am too invested in those of your own. This is not a cry for savior from anyone else besides myself and the God of all gods. This is real. This is self reflection and realization.

I realize that you can not truly expect another human being to be available for you the way YOU want them to be available for you. Every human being does things differently, and they have been doing it that way their entire lives. So with that being said they have to make a conscious decision to mold into a compromised version of themselves to accommodate you. That is…true love. It’s rare. I have an understanding of that now.

Now, practice what you preach sweet cracked china doll. The world doesn’t revolve around you. I know. I am the worst at a round table compromise. I can bring some mental stimulation to the table, I can bring some finances to the table, I can tell you sweet words and really mean them. The capacity to exude that emotion is something I sometimes lack. Honestly, it’s not that I lack it. I am overly emotional, the lack thereof comes from fear. If you want me to exude emotion for one situation, you will get a flood of emotion that encompasses at least 10 years. The broken mirror that had been still holding on, revealing that imperfect reflection will shatter. That’s a fear in itself and to double over, who’s going to stay to pick up the pieces. I am for sure. HE is for sure, with prayer. What other human being do you have when the strongest, most tangible ear available to listen…is supposed to be your own?

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Love Envy


“The white picket fence…”

Happy Endings. I’m a sucker for happy endings. I’m weak when it comes to a raw love story. I cry tears of joy when the king and queen have their epic moment of reunion. I always know how the love story ends, yet and still…tears of joy.

Now in the old days, the prince saves the princess. In today’s world, it’s a different storyline. The lady saves the lad…but instead of saving them from ghouls, goblins, and evil queens she saves him from his own heartlessness. Old renditions or new renditions, the goal for me is raw, passionate, uncontrollable, unconditional love. It’s the most enviable thing you could ever witness. Who wouldn’t want their own fairytale love?

I find myself on the dating scene trying not to think too much into situations. I tell myself to go with the flow, do what feels right and it will all come in due time. Easy enough, right? Not really. I can’t pretend and say I don’t think about whether or not I’m secure in this situation…if the connection is true…if the respect is present and evident. Yeah so, the first couple months of dating it’s easy to go solely off vibes and just have fun. It is always fun and games, laughs and smiles, until it hits you…I like this guy.

Living in today’s society it is impossible to come to that realization and NOT go into defense mode. When you get to the point where you know you are susceptible to the vulnerability in which your guy brings out of you. Personally, I go into fight or flight mode. I could go in with all my armor on, ready to fight through and see where that path takes me with hopes to not get my feelings stepped on or worst…stepped over. On the flip, I could take the gloves off and be on the first flight to Fear City with a connection to Punkville. I have been in both modes before, I may have dodged bullets by deterring from my emotions, but I may have also missed out on something. I may have even fought for the wrong person in the past, but I know that I’m capable of fighting for love.

I would suspect if the feelings that one has are respected, and the connection is built with true intentions on both ends then that could lead to great foundation. That foundation can be laid as a bridge between that person and their partner. That way they can meet in the middle and discuss their feelings and expectations. And if it’s a solid foundation, the bridge may never collapse. You may get your happy ending.

No one wants to be the lonesome cat lady. Growing older, this is a fear for us women in today’s world. We see so many “in love” running off to get married just to get divorced. It’s very discouraging. However, if we look away from fairytales, white picket fences, and social media and adjust our own priorities, fix our own brokenness with self-love and realization then that old school love that everyone envies can be achieved.

Love is about taking risks and having hope. We can’t lust over other’s peoples love stories. With patience, love will come to us, tailor-made.

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Distressed Roadway


Taking the high road is so complex. In retrospect, it seems like the right thing to do and in the beginning it’s a good feeling to have. Overtime, it’s always a different story. I don’t know about you but, my nonchalant behavior comes back to bite me every time. Every single time that I don’t express myself like I want to express myself it eats at me until I am completely over the situation.

There has been times when I’ve had the right to spaz out on someone but I didn’t. When I was in the predicament where crying was appropriate but I couldn’t. Where simply asking “why” was necessary but I just couldn’t bring myself to formulate the question. Yet I’m spazzing in my mind, crying behind closed doors, and asking myself why….why is it so hard to me to be vulnerable when I need to be? Why do I have an ego as big as a overprivileged, multi-million dollar, gray haired white man? Why? Why do I do it to myself?

I’ve vowed before, to become more vulnerable. I’ve even tried it a time or two. Those weren’t good times…I didn’t get the results I was hoping for and in all honestly I believe I went right back into my comfort zone…the zone that’s oblivious to what being vulnerable means. But I have so many untapped emotions, at this day and age I don’t have the luxury to hold it all in anymore. I need to weep, I need to yell, I need to kick, I need to scream, I need to know why you never thought of me as yours, why you moved away and left me alone, why don’t we have that bond, why you got sick, why you take on all the family’s stress and allow no one to care for you, why you think it’s okay to creep back into the life of my loved ones and not my own, why you didn’t see me fit to be with, why you didn’t choose me…I just wanted you to choose me, why you switched on me so swiftly and let it all go, why you felt the need to turn against a friend, why you think its ok to say these things now that you’re committed, why do you even love me…I’m so screwed up.

You of course…..all of you. You mean so much, and you’ve made drastic impressions on my life. I’ve hurt so much in confidence, but I’ve gained so much in public. I’ve grown so much stronger. Even the strongest person will have their sore days, where they just need rest….or ventilation. This is the only way I know how. And if you are anything like me…I suggest you find an outlet, because the high road you’re traveling on allows you to pass plenty of them…so take your pick.

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The Beauty of the Powerless


Love is being powerless.

So far in my life I feel like I have experienced love a couple times. I don’t have much experience in the category so I can only speak what I know and what I’ve felt. I believe that everyone’s experience with love is different, and though I truly believe in love…I still cannot wrap my head around the concept of being in love. However, I have come to my own conclusion that for myself, (because its different for everyone) being in love is gradually becoming weaker and weaker with every hurdle within the relationship.

Ok, I know you’re thinking, why do you have to consider yourself weak for loving someone. There are some who say to truly love another human whole-heartedly takes strength. I believe that as well, but you only look at it that way after you’ve exercised this love you have for a while. I will break it down a bit.

(Now keep in mind my “you” references are really meant as referring to myself from the outside looking in.)

When you are the type of person who is naturally strong, emotionally withheld, and protective of your soul, it’s a little difficult to let people get to you. And when I say a little difficult I mean extremely difficult, so that was a lie. Now for many, there are different reasons why you are the way you are but hey…you are that way now and only you have the ability to allow yourself or even someone else to change that.

So, when you meet that person whom you’ve unexpectedly grew to have feelings for it’s a struggle within yourself to acknowledge that you have these feelings, let alone express them aloud to the person you have them for. Why? Vulnerability. In all honestly, that is my worst fear when dealing with love interests. I really don’t like the feeling whatsoever, and it is because of overanalyzing. You think to yourself, if I express myself, will it be reciprocated? If its not, will I be hurt? Of course I will be hurt. Will I recover? I don’t know. I hate not knowing. Maybe I shouldn’t even say anything. Maybe they will say something first? Well he’s a guy so he’s going to expect me to say something first, right? What if he doesn’t like me like I like him? Man…f**k it.

You get my drift yet???

In this process you are making things worst with worries, and when you step back and think about it in retrospect…you are giving your power away through those worries you have. That is called energy, and worrying about all those what if’s draws a lot of it out of you.

The plot thickens, because when you do muster up the courage to say how you feel and it is reciprocated in some form or fashion, you get weaker. There is a sense of knowing. Knowing that person cares for you and will not intentionally try to hurt you. So in return, you open up more…and more. You give them more of your energy because you trust them to have it and nurture it. So they’ve become powerful, leaving you powerless. This isn’t a bad thing at the moment; you are basking in what you have developed with this person. You are head over heels, drowning, suffocating in a relationship that you undoubtedly adore. All you can see is a field full of flowers and clouds shaped as hearts. So you’re really surprised when you see one dark cloud, shocked when you suddenly see lightening, frightened when you hear the roar of thunder. You’re faced with a bad situation within your relationship…and you realize you’re at a fork in the road. A road in which you can chose to work through the bad situation or in which you can walk away from it. The thing both of these roads have in common is that they both require that energy that you so happily gave away…

So what are you going to do?

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The Broken Fixer


Opposites attract” they say. Yea, well sometimes that is true…however in modern life I’d like to think that we try to connect with people that are compatible and like-minded. We yearn for that understanding and relatable aspect. We, as humans are configured so differently, so complicated and delicately. A lot of us jump at the chance of having a soul mate that’s wired even remotely like ourselves. In some cases, this could be a great thing. In others, it can be blissfully damaging.

What happens when time after time you attract a broken-spirited person? When do you realize the reality of the failed relationships that you have tried to build? My time is now. For a very long time I’ve been what I call a “fixer.” Now be aware that I am no Olivia Pope, and I’ve never successfully fixed anything that I’ve set my heart on fixing (relationship wise.) I can tell you how it starts and how it ends…

It typically starts with a conversation, a very interesting one. Of course, when you first meet a person they do not give you their entire life and love story but what they do give you is hints and clues at what their past has done to them whether it be good…or bad. I pay very close attention to those details and I’m honestly not really sure if I do so consciously or subconsciously. Those blueprints to who a guy is, what he’s been through, and why he’s currently the way he is intrigues me. I want to know more because no matter if it’s good or bad I feed off of it and I know in my heart of hearts it can teach me something I don’t already know.

Now, I don’t just go around being nosey with every guy I meet. From that first conversation I also depict someone in whom I feel a connection with, someone I feel has a good heart. That good heart could be apparent, or that good heart could be masked under grime. Either way, its there and that is typically the basis of what I want to shine bright because in that very first conversation, he shows me a glimpse of it…maybe mistakenly. So I build this friendship, I try my hardest to gain trust, I gain feelings, and I develop love, and dig deep in the process. I do my best to make myself readily available to listen, to be there when there is no one else, to heal, to motivate, to make happy…

The happiness comes for just a moment…and I bask in their happiness for as long as I can because as we know life is not always easy so next time the curveball is thrown I’m graciously obtainable for him again to lean on. Clearly I’m doing this for the happiness for that guy but that happiness trickles down to me, his happiness momentarily becomes my own…until I realized…ultimately I was not happy in my own situation.

I bathe myself in the fixings of other’s problems because I can attempt to provide answers and ideas for them. I can’t do that for myself without asking for help. Asking for help is something that I never did in those relationships because I never wanted to be a burden on anyone, and my problems remained unknown until they couldn’t anymore. My brokenness shined through, and each time it matched the person whom brokenness I was trying to mend. So now, the irony is evident. I had to stop trying to fix them. There was a bigger problem to fix.

So, guess what I am doing now as a natural born fixer…

When you feeling lost in the night, when you feel your world just ain’t right.
— Monica
Its funny you’re the broken who and I’m the only one who needed saving.
— Rihanna
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The Luxury of Time: The Double Standard pt2


Now time is of the essence but take things slow they say. You ever notice that when it comes to matters of the heart, emotions, they say its best to go in slow motion. Live fast, but love slowlywisely. That one friend you encountered that always had the time of their lives, able to make a decision on where to party at the drop of a dime but when asked who do you love…you hear nothing but wind. Oh, you were that friend? Okay. It’s understandable. Our hearts are the cores of our soul and if we don’t shield it from danger, who will? That is why a lot of us unveil our cores selectively, sparingly, and leisurely.

So, yea, you only live once but don’t do anything dumb. There is a thought process behind expressing emotions, whether verbally or through actions. You don’t want to be perceived as ‘doing too much’, nor do you want to not do enough and give off the vibe of disinterest. That thought process in it self takes time. Acting without thinking can only get you two kinds of results…bad or good. There is no in between, so the process is necessary (or so some would think.)

The dove, miss lady, she took that time. She went through the process. Things went slowly…leisurely. She verbalized what was starved in the core of her soul, yet she went unfed. Maybe it hadn’t been enough time, she waited…leisurely. She made another attempt to express her starvation; still going unfed never transforming into a swan…so in her case taking things slowly…lead to wasted time.

This gentleman, a lion in his den. He saw his target, focused on it, and attacked. On his first attack he was scarred. Maybe he came at his target the wrong way, he re-focused but took no time pronouncing his second attack or his third in which both was shut down. He didn’t have luxury of figuring out why he was shut down, he had a kingdom to run, but there was only one last way to approach his target and that was to approach not attack. He hit his mark not because he took things slowly, but he did things wisely. Needless to say even that took time.

No matter how you approach life, there is no rulebook. Only time will tell you what’s tailor-made for you.

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The Luxury of Time: The Double Standard pt1


Time is of the essence, they say. Live every day as it’s your last, they say. So many lives are abruptly taken from us. Sometimes it happens in a blink of an eye…so unexpectedly. Other times, it happens painfully slow. I’ve lost family and I’ve lost friends both ways, neither one is easier to handle over the other. You can try to mentally prepare yourself for things like that however, it never really take the pain away from the situation.

So they say, you only live once…yolo. The fact that life can be taken from us at any moment leads some to believe that you have to go at life in a faster fashion than what you would have, originally. You have to experience all that life has to offer in the little time that you have, there is no more time to waste. What happens if the goals you set for tomorrow are not accomplished? No…not because you were too lazy to do so, but because now it is impossible for you to do so. Is it scary…thinking that way?

But wait…yolo…anything can happen, tell your 13-year-old niece to stop acting like a kid, come from outside during recess, get in those books so she can one day become a doctor. And wait…live every day as it’s your last…and spend that rent check on that flight to Vegas to see Money May, you can always use the gofundme account for your rent miss lady. Oh, wait…time is of the essence…make a child with that woman who has it all together, she’s accepting you now as you are, not yet a man, but you may not get this opportunity again.

Lets back track now, I’m running out of sarcasm. Let’s just think and question. Would you dare tell a child, not to be a child and do as a child do? Would you let them surpass their youth for what might be? Would you chance your own stability for what could be dead-end possibilities? Is that logical? My dear brother…how can you, a boy, raise a human when you yourself have not fully risen to the occasion? Lets just think…we need answers.

Darkness


There is something significant about darkness. It represents a type of stillness, an absence of light. In that absence, the sense of sight is no longer a luxury; other senses arise stronger than ever. Those senses can stimulate your mind deeper than anything you could wish to see.

Believe none of what you hear, half of what you see.” What about the half that you cannot see, the half that is engulfed in darkness? What do we do in that dark space? Why do so little people depreciate darkness in all of its multiple shades. There is beauty beyond the shade.

There is beauty in the darkness of depression. A person can feel so alone, feeling as though they are in the pits below life itself. In that lone pit, tears accompany them, anxiety accompanies them, pain takes over them, and obscene thoughts run rampant throughout a fragile mind; thoughts that are detrimental to the soul. When and only when a person can recognize the negatives would they be able to develop their own positives. There’s a hole above the pit that surrounds the person, as a reflecting light shines through, and there appears the hand that reaches down to pull you up. The beauty is looking down into that pit in which you became so familiar with and coming to terms with how deeply rooted it was, recognizing how strong you were to, with assistance, climb out.  Even how strong you were to look back at such a place.

Beauty in Darkness, Beauty in Strength…

There is beauty in the darkness of oppression. As a race that is placed at the bottom of societal scale, we know pain, we know injustice, and we know manipulation. Physical brutality to mental brutality, back to physical brutality accompanying mental control paired with forced complacency; we are not unfamiliar.  We are one with struggles of many kinds whether it is to stand for your people or our people, or to decide whether to be displaced or misplaced. Furthermore, as a people (race) this isn’t where we should be, neither physically nor mentally. If you feel as though we were displaced, you are right. If you feel as though we are misplaced, you are exceptional, you have hope, and that’s only a starting point but it holds so much value in our community, it aids in the spark. Being misplaced gives us a sense of temporary, temporarily misplaced in hopes that we are found and put back where we belong, truly.  Oppression births hope, and in hope lies something so profound, so beautiful…strength.

Beauty in Darkness, Beauty in Strength…

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The Rant


 I never try to be ridiculously oblivious to the things that goes on around me, however I do confine myself to my own little bubble. I rarely watch the news, in fear that hell will soon consume earth. Some would argue that this has already fallen upon us. This is not to keep myself ignorant, but to keep my own sanity.

 From the outside looking in, I am a very strong person who has it all together. On the inside I can be an emotional wreck who obsessively worries about everything and how I could never be enough to help the world. I put myself in positions to help others when needed, when asked, not because I feel like good karma will circle back to me but because I want that person to be happy. I love being around happy and/or positive people. I love being around great spirits. It makes me happy. Laughing…smiling. 

 In the midst of it all how can I be so happy when today’s youth are weighing in on an unbalanced scale? We have some who are growing into themselves and portraying who they genuinely are, reaching for those goals that are going to make them happy as well as successful. Then we have others who are products of their environment, who are not in a position to understand the workings of the world, and don’t have anyone to help them along in learning themselves, finding what truly makes them happy and how they can finagle their way around the systems set up to hold them back from getting to the organizations produced to help them build for themselves. There aren’t many affordable helping hand organizations for these young people. There aren’t many role models available to invest their time in these young people. Time is money right? Yet, youth is future…right? 

 If the youth is the answer for the future, then why are so many young people being unjustly murdered? This would mean there would not be any hope for the future. This is what I get so consumed in. It can be very depressing. I try my best to reach out to the youth around me and express the beauty in life, and making the decisions that make you truly happy. On the same accord, truly helping the youth realize the type of world they live in. Once they realize the set up, they can set themselves up for true success. There is always a road map and you have to figure out where your obstacles lie along with where your detours are to get to your destination. Most importantly we need to show our youth that it will not be a smooth ride. We need instill in them mental strength and endurance so they can be that cliché rose that’s some how growing from concrete.

Luxury Redefined


At what point did technology consume our lives completely? Is social media making us less attached to reality? Why do we not live in the moment? Why do we capture the most intimate moments with our camera phones instead of our hearts? Since when do we not find an inch of happiness in simplicity? This puzzles me…

I believe we are a lost generation, some of us are content with that, and some of us are not. When I say lost, I am most certainly not saying it in means of having no hope. I will always believe there is hope for better; the work just has to be right, with it ready and waiting to be implemented. So, when I say lost I am referring to lost souls needing to find out who they really are, what they stand for, and what they desire out of life. In that instant, when the answers are obtained, the luxury of happiness will emerge and remain.

Luxury is often familiarized with affluence. Luxury hotels suites, designer jewelry and clothing, expensive cars, and anything else that we may acquire based off want and not need. Though there is nothing wrong with wanting the best of the best if you feel you deserve it, I am concerned about the cost of it all. Not the monetary value but the cost of devaluation of life before those things. The appreciation that you had for life before those material things that you praise could be tainted without even realizing it.

Material things are not the only luxuries of life. It’s a luxury to have life itself, a life that is yours and that you can do what you will with. It’s a luxury to hear the rain that just ruined your perfect evening out against your window. Little Suzie is sitting at the window just around the corner from you watching the same rain splash across a keyboard that she purposely left outside because she is upset that she doesn’t have luxury of hearing the melodic tunes, for she is deaf. Just down the block Joseph is laying in a bed listening to the darkest punk rock music you can imagine because he is frustrated that he doesn’t have the luxury to dance to that pop song that he loves so much, for he is paralyzed from the waist down. Two blocks over at the dance school is Anita who is dancing as if her life depends on it, expressing every bit of anger through the aggression of her movements, for she’s suffering from mutism.

Luxury is appreciating and being happy with what you do have at any given time, for the fact that others may not have that luxury.

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Beauty Redefined


Beauty is knowledge.

Beauty is art.

Beauty is being selfless…

Everyone equates beauty with physical attributes when in all actuality it’s a personality attribute. Someone commented on an Instagram photo of mine the other day calling me beautiful and though I really appreciated the compliment, it got me thinking. In my opinion, anyone can be pretty, but to be a beautiful person you have to be all that is you while incorporating kindness and care.

when you discover your essential nature and know ...who you really are, in that knowing itself is the ability to fulfill any dream that you have because your are the eternal possibility…”

“…the more you experience your true nature, the closer you are to the field of pure potentiality.
— Deepak Chopra

So my take on this is that first things first, you have to feel yourself out and get reacquainted with the true you. It’s definitely not an easy task in todays society with outside forces and influences that we have tempting us in our everyday lives but know that it does takes effort. I cannot say that I’ve come face to face with my true self yet but I do see the shadow of her through a foggy mirror and with each foot I put forward she gets a tad bit clearer. Its never to late to bare your soul to yourself and get familiar with who you are because once you do, great things can happen.

Once you get a glimpse of who you are you start to come to terms with what you like, what you love, what you don’t like, and what you have a passion to do. You begin to know your self worth. It gets very exciting. Through this process of discovery you are gaining knowledge and with that wonderful things can be created. These things that you create will make you happy, they will fulfill you, they will make you feel success, and potentially make you money because it is pure. The good thing about it is that if you strip away the money and potential fame and success you are still left with the fulfillment and happiness that your art brings you, so you never lose. That is beauty.

I would suspect that after you go through this journey, uncover your essence, and create this fulfilling empire that the only thing left is to share your gains. When the smartest person on the planet retains all the knowledge possible what is there left to do but to teach, to share. The ultimate form of beauty is being selfless and that is the hardest thing for most of us to do. Being there for others without expecting a return. Thinking about the happiness of others before your own. Pure. Being caring. We are afraid to show we care and just how selfless we can be because we are perceived as weak when in all that is true, that person is the strongest because they are willing to unveil that part of themselves to the word. Just another thing that society have taught us not to do, don’t show weakness. It’s understandable but who’s to say that is the right thing to do in all cases. Who is to say that it is healthy?

Now going back, it is not to say that being selfish makes you an ugly person because I understand that you have to be selfish to a certain extent because if your aren’t how would you have come to terms with who you are? You definitely have to incorporate a ton of “me time” for that excursion, however once you’ve come to the end of that road, overcome the pressures of society and made your mind up for yourself, it would be ideal to give back. Frankly put, if you can find pleasure in other people’s happiness at the expense of your doing, with a smile as your only expectation, it’s a beautiful thing. That IS beauty.