Alexia had no respect for me. Since the 3rd grade when she moved into my neighborhood 3 houses down from mine; she has turned my once peaceful world upside down. I was never the most popular kid in our class before Alexia moved in, but I was still liked and respected by the students and my teachers. I never talked back, I always turned in my homework, and I even help tutor other kids after school like I was a teacher-aid. I have never been told I was pretty, smart, or special in all my life, so I just went through life day to day usually ignored by the boys and barely acknowledged by the girls in my class. I was shy and never had enough nerve to go up to any group of girls to ask if I could play with them. Mostly during lunch period I would sit at the table in the back corner of the lunch room and eat by myself. I didn’t seem to have anything in common with the other girls anyways. They always were giggling and pointing at which boy Susan or Tammy liked that day. Or they would just compare each others outfits and bicker about whose ensemble was prettier than the others. My parents were earthy people and never paid much attention to the latest fashion or anything materialistic at all. We were probably the only family on our block that didn’t have any televisions in the house. My parents gave me books and we would play board games together as a family to pass the time. Both my parents are archeologist and so at least 3 times a year I am pulled out of school to accompany my parents on an excavation somewhere exotic. By the time I was in 8th grade I have been to over 20 countries. Egypt was my most favorite trip of them all, because seeing a pyramid in a book or a movie from school never captures the true beauty and magic the man made structures really have. Because of the way I have been raised I have always been the odd person out at school socials. Alexia only made me stand out more by the way she would instinctually seek me out to make my days at school hell. Alexia was 100% gorgeous even in 3rd grade when she walked into our classroom for the first time she beamed a bright light. Her golden hair hung wavy down to the middle of her back. She would always fling it across her shoulder wafting her strawberry shampoo smell right into the boys face and they all would be in awe of her magnificence. Her clothes always looked brand new and I could never tell if she ever got dirty. Even at recess playing 4 square or Tetherball she always came back to class spotless and not a hair out of place. All the girls wanted to be her best friend and all the boys wanted to be her boyfriend. I would just stare at here like the way my mom stared at a new artifact found under a rock. At first I thought she was amazing and full of grace. I guess when she looked at me she felt the complete opposite. I would sometimes catch her staring at me in class with her nose crinkled up with distain and malice all over her face. She would look at me like I had been bathing with pigs and lived in an underground cave. I never understood why she never liked me. She hardly spoke to me until one day in 6th grade. We got locker assignments and for some reason the Gods were angry with me and made the both us locker partners. As soon as she found out her partner was me; the game was on for her. She made sure every day of school was made difficult for me to deal with. She would be standing by our locker with her group of friends, and when she would see me coming, she would say very loudly, “Here comes the Lord of the Flies!, she is so ugly the government moved Halloween to her birthday!” They would all cackle like a group of witches around a cauldron. I would never make eye contact, and just try to hurry and get what I needed out of that locker as fast as I could because the insults never stopped, they just got louder and worse than the last one. People would stop what they were doing just to watch, listen, and laugh at me being humiliated day after day.
By the time we were both in high school she would still make sly comments as she passed me in the hall, but she didn’t make a show about it like she did during middle school. I was a depressed teenager, I was isolated and alone most days. Senior year I was walking home from school one day and after that day my life has never been the same. The normally busy street was unusually empty while I was walking along the sidewalk, and then I heard the rumble of an engine coming from behind me. I didn’t bother to look to see who it was because nobody looks to see who I am. My head was down looking at the sidewalk cracks as I walked along and suddenly I hear someone scream, “Bomb is dropping!!” And next thing I knew I was hit from the top of my head with a large cup of chocolate milkshake. The cup and straw fell to the ground and my entire head and upper body was drenched with the wet cold shake. In shock I look up to see who did this to me and there she was hanging out of her boyfriend’s sun roof yelling “Loooser!!!!” as he drove away. I heard them all laughing. I began to cry. My eyes immediately swelled and hot streams of tears were flowing from me like the shake was flowing off my head. I wanted to just kill myself after that. Year after year Alexia has gone out of her way to make me feel like I was not good enough to be on this earth. As far as she was concerned I was dead to her already. I had nothing to clean up with, so I just kept walking home with chocolate milkshake all over me. With every step it would just drip off my head and fingers leaving a trail like I was a slug. At the time I felt like a slug or something worse. I finally turned on my block and I found myself standing in front of Alexia’s house. Her boyfriend’s car was parked in her driveway and I could here them laughing and carrying on in the house. I was so angry! I wanted revenge. 10 years she has tortured me and I never retaliated once. Today was the day to fight back!
Breathing hard and blinded by my tears I walked to my house. Neither of my parents were home, they were actually out of the country and wouldn’t be back for another 5 days. I walked upstairs, took off my clothes, and took a quick shower. Still blinded by my anger, I put on some black sweat pants and shirt and ran downstairs to our garage. I found what I was looking for. I grabbed the can of gasoline and a book of matches. I was in a trance, my mind was blank, and my eyes could only see red. I casually walked to Alexia’s house and began to pour the gasoline around the parameter of her house. I sprayed all of the door knobs and windows with a sealant I found in the garage. It was the middle of the afternoon and nobody saw what I was doing. Alexia and her friends didn’t hear what I was doing either. After saturating the house really good I took the match book out of my pocket. I stood there, frozen in time, dazed; my mind was still in a trance. It was like I was having an out of body experience. I began to walk back home, but just before I left her lawn I struck the match and threw it in her yard.
I woke up a few hours later in my bed. My room was dark and the house was empty. The sound of the sirens didn’t wake me up, but the silence in my head and my house is what startled me. Now I was back in my body and I remembered what I had done only a few hours earlier. I looked out my window and I could see black smoke still rising where Alexia’s house once stood. I ran outside to see what I did for myself, and the fire truck, police, and ambulance was still parked outside her house. The firemen put the fire out, but the house was burnt so badly only the support beams stood. The entire neighborhood was outside crowded behind the yellow tape. I swallowed hard. I walked up to my neighbor Mrs. Jefferson and asked her what happened like I didn’t already know. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. She said, “Oh my goodness, it’s so horrible. I can’t believe this happened in our neighborhood!” She began to cry harder now and her body shook. I instinctually held her. I tried to comfort her and tell her it was an accident. Just as those words part my lips I seen the EMT people wheel out 4 body bags; slowly loading them up in the back of the ambulance’s. As I held Mrs. Jefferson still crying on my shoulder, I felt numb and emotionless. I actually felt relief like a load has been lifted from my chest. In between sniffles Mrs. Jefferson said she over heard one of the detectives say that looked like a homicide and foul play was a definite factor. She said that she hopes they catch the monster that did such a thing to 4 young beautiful kids. I just patted her on her back and said, “I am sure they will do everything in their power to find out who did this.”
Dec 29, 2010
V-Day writing assignment
You're alone at home watching an episode of Law and Order when you hear a light knock at your door. You hesitantly get up from the couch to answer it, but find no one is there. You look around curiously only to find a Valentine's day card sitting on your welcome mat.
'Who is knocking on my door at this time of night?' I said to myself outloud as I wrapped my snuggie over my torso and slowly walk towards the door. I tip toed softly over the carpet and gently looked through the peep hole. I see nothing. I stand there waiting for another knock; I hear nothing except the stupid State Farm commercial on T.V. I peep through my living room curtains and nobody is there. I took a deep breath and slowly opened the front door. I see nothing but the dark night, street lights, and at my feet I saw a sealed envelope. 'What tha?' I said outloud again. I am scared now because I live alone and hardly never get visitors, especially uninvited visitors. I grab the envelope and rush to close the door. I put the chain on and double locked every lock to feel a little more safe. The envelope was lumpy like something other than a letter or card was inside. With nothing but the T.V. making noise in my house I walk back to my couch and sit down. I placed the envelope on my coffee table and just stared at it for only a minute. It was a deep red color with one large pink heart sticker sealing it closed on the back. There is no name or address on it anywhere. I can't tell if maybe this was delivered to the wrong house, maybe my neighbor Kimberly was supposed to get this. She is young, cute, and always goes on dates with random guys. I thought about taking it over to her, but I had no proof it belonged to her. I guess the only way to find out who it is for is to open it. I don't know why I am so scared, but this feels so wrong and strange. I picked up the evelope and with my index finger I opened the pink heart sticker seal and slowley pulled out a card. Just as I pulled it out half way something wet began to seep out of it. I felt something drip on my big toe and when I looked down I noticed it was as crimson as the color of th envelope. I jerked irractly while still holding the card and the rest of it came out on my coffee table. It was indeed a Valentine card because of the gaudy heart designs on the front, but I couldn't get over the shock of the severed finger taped to the fron of the card. I couldn't scream, I just jumped on the arm of my couch and began to hyperventalate. I must of passed out because awhile later I woke up on my living room floor next to my couch. My head hurt real bad too, I must have fell on my side table on my way down. I slowley looked at my table and the card was gone! The blood stain was still on my big toe, but the card and any evidence of it being in my house was gone. I quickly got up from the floor; which was a bad idea because the blood didn't catch up to my brain and I almost passed out again. I caught myself on my chair before I fell and made myself breath slowly. That breath quickly turned into panic because I also noticed my T.V. was no longer on. The house was pitch dark and I didn't know if I was alone anymore. I ran to the kitchen to call the police, but just as I reached the doorway a large man came walking towards me. I stopped in mid stride, my eyes were wide open trying to focuse in the dark, and my instincts took over as I began to run the opposite direction. Fear was coursing through my veins like venom and my heart was skipping beats as I ran away from my kitchen towards my front door. I heard his gradual footsteps coming after me and all I could do was pray. 'Dammit!' I yelled, the door was not easy to get out of because I locked every lock on it! I fumbled with the chain until that unlatched, I began to twist the first lock when I felt a large wet hand on my right shoulder. I jumped and turned around to only see my ex-husband standing there with a wide grin and a very sharp knife. I began to scream for help, but he pushed his hand hard against my face. I could taste his wet salty skin, that dripped with something I could not see. He said, "Happy Valentine's Day sweetie! Did you miss me?" I couldn't answer him because my mouth was muffled and I just kept trying to scream for help. Nobody could hear me. That is when I noticed his ring finger; the one that use to wear our wedding ring was missing and his hand was bleeding perfusly from his wound. 'He cut off his own finger?' I thought to myself. I knew he was crazy, but never to the point of insanity like now. Through his hand I wanted to bite his wound hoping I could maybe get away, but I couldn't because he was too strong and I couldn't move my head at all.
The scene turned black.
The homocide detectives found the card in the kitchen after followng the trail of blood. There were two dead bodies in the house; a woman's body who had her throat slit from ear to ear laying by the front door, and a man's body with multiple stab wounds in his torso that looked self inflicted and a missing ring finger.
Inside the card read:
My love grew deep
like the 6foot steep
hole I dug for your sleep
every waking moment
of the rest of your life
will only be remembered
by the edge of my knife!
Love is forever,
Gary
'Who is knocking on my door at this time of night?' I said to myself outloud as I wrapped my snuggie over my torso and slowly walk towards the door. I tip toed softly over the carpet and gently looked through the peep hole. I see nothing. I stand there waiting for another knock; I hear nothing except the stupid State Farm commercial on T.V. I peep through my living room curtains and nobody is there. I took a deep breath and slowly opened the front door. I see nothing but the dark night, street lights, and at my feet I saw a sealed envelope. 'What tha?' I said outloud again. I am scared now because I live alone and hardly never get visitors, especially uninvited visitors. I grab the envelope and rush to close the door. I put the chain on and double locked every lock to feel a little more safe. The envelope was lumpy like something other than a letter or card was inside. With nothing but the T.V. making noise in my house I walk back to my couch and sit down. I placed the envelope on my coffee table and just stared at it for only a minute. It was a deep red color with one large pink heart sticker sealing it closed on the back. There is no name or address on it anywhere. I can't tell if maybe this was delivered to the wrong house, maybe my neighbor Kimberly was supposed to get this. She is young, cute, and always goes on dates with random guys. I thought about taking it over to her, but I had no proof it belonged to her. I guess the only way to find out who it is for is to open it. I don't know why I am so scared, but this feels so wrong and strange. I picked up the evelope and with my index finger I opened the pink heart sticker seal and slowley pulled out a card. Just as I pulled it out half way something wet began to seep out of it. I felt something drip on my big toe and when I looked down I noticed it was as crimson as the color of th envelope. I jerked irractly while still holding the card and the rest of it came out on my coffee table. It was indeed a Valentine card because of the gaudy heart designs on the front, but I couldn't get over the shock of the severed finger taped to the fron of the card. I couldn't scream, I just jumped on the arm of my couch and began to hyperventalate. I must of passed out because awhile later I woke up on my living room floor next to my couch. My head hurt real bad too, I must have fell on my side table on my way down. I slowley looked at my table and the card was gone! The blood stain was still on my big toe, but the card and any evidence of it being in my house was gone. I quickly got up from the floor; which was a bad idea because the blood didn't catch up to my brain and I almost passed out again. I caught myself on my chair before I fell and made myself breath slowly. That breath quickly turned into panic because I also noticed my T.V. was no longer on. The house was pitch dark and I didn't know if I was alone anymore. I ran to the kitchen to call the police, but just as I reached the doorway a large man came walking towards me. I stopped in mid stride, my eyes were wide open trying to focuse in the dark, and my instincts took over as I began to run the opposite direction. Fear was coursing through my veins like venom and my heart was skipping beats as I ran away from my kitchen towards my front door. I heard his gradual footsteps coming after me and all I could do was pray. 'Dammit!' I yelled, the door was not easy to get out of because I locked every lock on it! I fumbled with the chain until that unlatched, I began to twist the first lock when I felt a large wet hand on my right shoulder. I jumped and turned around to only see my ex-husband standing there with a wide grin and a very sharp knife. I began to scream for help, but he pushed his hand hard against my face. I could taste his wet salty skin, that dripped with something I could not see. He said, "Happy Valentine's Day sweetie! Did you miss me?" I couldn't answer him because my mouth was muffled and I just kept trying to scream for help. Nobody could hear me. That is when I noticed his ring finger; the one that use to wear our wedding ring was missing and his hand was bleeding perfusly from his wound. 'He cut off his own finger?' I thought to myself. I knew he was crazy, but never to the point of insanity like now. Through his hand I wanted to bite his wound hoping I could maybe get away, but I couldn't because he was too strong and I couldn't move my head at all.
The scene turned black.
The homocide detectives found the card in the kitchen after followng the trail of blood. There were two dead bodies in the house; a woman's body who had her throat slit from ear to ear laying by the front door, and a man's body with multiple stab wounds in his torso that looked self inflicted and a missing ring finger.
Inside the card read:
My love grew deep
like the 6foot steep
hole I dug for your sleep
every waking moment
of the rest of your life
will only be remembered
by the edge of my knife!
Love is forever,
Gary
Dec 6, 2010
The Formula
The undefined terms
point the way to
the line that never ends
into a plane of nothingness.
The geometrical spiral
warms the center of my radius
and quivers the diameter through
my circumference and wets the parameter
in a way...
In a way a line has no beginning or end
like the circle of my soul
searching how to use pie to
my advantage.
Studying each dimension
the area measures the interior
of my veins
pulsing through each square unit
of my plane
Increasing the volume of passion
rising with each cubic unit
until I'm overflowing into
obtuse positions
that invite complementary vertical angles
that will keep you strait for hours
Eventually the vertex of our love will come to an endpoint.
180 degrees later the light of our ray will fade
into another dimension.
point the way to
the line that never ends
into a plane of nothingness.
The geometrical spiral
warms the center of my radius
and quivers the diameter through
my circumference and wets the parameter
in a way...
In a way a line has no beginning or end
like the circle of my soul
searching how to use pie to
my advantage.
Studying each dimension
the area measures the interior
of my veins
pulsing through each square unit
of my plane
Increasing the volume of passion
rising with each cubic unit
until I'm overflowing into
obtuse positions
that invite complementary vertical angles
that will keep you strait for hours
Eventually the vertex of our love will come to an endpoint.
180 degrees later the light of our ray will fade
into another dimension.
Jul 29, 2010
Against the grain
Root of ALL Evil?
I am starting to become addicted to Twitter a little bit. Quest Love from the Roots is on there 100 times a day talking about this new hip-hop this or Jimmy Fallon that.. I actually know some people in real life I follow and it is interesting to see what they Tweet about on a daily basis along with other people I would like to know. I don't go to the clubs, I stay home most nights with my kids, and because I am single and extremely picky I stay home most weekends. I guess I can't expect my virtual social network to expand until I one day try to expand my reality social network.
There is a local poet I am following on Twitter, and I have seen her perform on stage a handful of times. I really enjoy her poetry because her style is raw, real, fast, and to the point. She doesn't speak in a lot of metaphors and abstract verbiage that makes you wonder WTF is she talking about? She is clear, concise, and entertaining. I met her a couple of times, but I am not a person most people remember so she doesn't remember meeting me. I have to re-introduce myself as So and So's cousin and not just as myself. SAD.
This poet has a talk show format on a local online website I posted in my gadgets called livewireurbanradio.com and she posted on Twitter she is looking for interested ladies to join her panel to discuss the topic:
"IS PUSSY THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL?"
"IS PUSSY THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL?"
Is pussy the root of all evil? I thought this would be a very interesting topic. I am striving to become a prominent psychologist one day and I absolutely enjoy observing human behavior in all forms. My opinion is just as important as the next. I can get off my shy horse and just try it. I really need to put myself out there more. I need to meet new people and maybe build new friendships. I can't keep living in my living room. Nobody knows I'm sitting on my couch except me. So much for that social network if that is how I am going about it.
The show is a few days away and I replied on Twitter volunteering my random thoughts. Now the anxiety of the situation is settling in my guts. I committed to show up and talk into a microphone about my ideas about if pussy is evil or not. I need to get my ideas and thoughts in order. I can't just show up and freestyle whatever. I don't know how strong the other personalities will be and I don't want to clam up and not say anything because that will be stupid and I will continue to be ignored. Hence the reason for this BLOG. I need to figure out where do I stand and what do I want to say about this...things that make you go hmmmm.
First I should answer it. Is pussy the root of all evil? My answer is...NO!!!!
WHY? I don't see the logic behind it. A human organ cannot beget what our society deems as immoral or evil actions.
Humans are a lot more complicated when it comes to thinking about sex, but both humans and animals are very similar with the way they act on sex. Typical animal behavior consist of: sex between species, sex with inanimate objects, homosexuality, heterosexuality, and bi sexuality. There is absolutely no difference between what a animal will do and what a human will do. The only difference is animals don't care and humans live their lives under social and religious constraints; which take away what we would do naturally. Cognitive thoughts keep those belief systems in a constant revolving door because each decade of human species will put a new twist on what is deemed moral, religious, and socially acceptable within small and large groups of people.  |
| Magnum anyone? |
With that said...pussy cannot be the root of evil because I believe it is the male EGO that is the root of all evil. Nothing is more dangerous to the human race as the male ego. In today's society with current morality and religious laws the human male ego will cause wars, murder, greed, control, lust, and all the other sins listed in old bible script. Lust especially will misconstrued pussy being the evil culprit when it is the men who make it that way because of their egos.
Men are both simple and complicated. The simplicity is they can be kept 'happy' as long as their ego is constantly stroked like a crying cat in heat. Complicated because they fight against their natural urge to spread their seed to as many pussy's they can due to social and religious rules of only being allowed 1 pussy at a time nowadays (unless your a Mormon or Islamic). Life was probably a lot more simple when multiple spouses were allowed. Because of this new societal rule of 1 pussy at a time their EGO becomes more sensitive when that pussy becomes compromised in any way. Once that EGO is threatened and they can no longer keep claim on that 1 pussy that is when things go array. A man will feel the urge to state claim of that pussy and that is when the EGO can have the capacity to initiate any of seven plus sins without any concern of moral, social, or religious rules that are in place. As long as humans fight against our natural mammal instincts the social rules we put on ourselves will change a simple sex act between two humans into a crime scene because of what we perceive as right versus wrong or good versus evil. The natural act of sex becomes evil once it gets that far.
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 12, 2010
KRS ONE - THE DOPEST MC IN DA WORLD!!!!
Lawrence Krishna Parker August 20, 1965
Friday July 09, 2010 KRS-ONE rocked the mic @Cervante's Denver, CO.
The ticket was only $20 and it was a duel hip-hop show with artist playing both stages and in-between DJ's would rip the 1's & 2's.
I was in heaven. I rode to the show with the 2 of my homeboys and another I just met. 3 men at a hip-hop show I feel safe considering I'm only 5'2" and 110 soak and wet. I needed to make sure somebody had my back. At the last Method Man show I was physically molested numerous times. I haven't had sex in so long I kinda didn't mind it, but still that wasn't cool. Since my homies are married and I am single it seemed like as soon as we walked in there we all kept our space to make sure nobody thought any of us were together. So me being me I hop around the venue like a hyper fairy and go from room to room depending on which band on which stage I felt like listening to. I was sitting down drinking my beer and then I noticed a waiter taking pans of fresh pizza to somebody.
I wanted Pizza and I wanted it bad. Who wudda thunk pizza or any food would be served at a establishment like this? Cervante's is a little seedy but perfect for small venue concerts. I spotted where the pizza came from and was like a moth to a flame. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I was so hungry any pizza would be equivalent to a fresh Maine lobster with clarified butter. I get to the counter and ask if they accept credit cards. The guy said they do but it's a $5 minimum. I step back and look at the menu again and see a slice of pizza is $2.50. I look at him and say, "I only want one piece of pizza, will I meet the $5 mark if I get a soda?" That is when the flirty banter began back and forth; I noticed the guy I was talking too was cute and he was for sure flirting with me. We went back and forth me trying to bargin how I can get one slice without buying anything extra because I really didn't want a soda. At one point I asked him to just overcharge me and give me one slice even though he pointed at my stomach saying I needed 2. I then explained to him I have been drinking a lot of beer and one would be sufficient despite the illusion of my flat abs. Next think I know I called out to Jesus Christ out of frustration trying to barter for a piece of pizza, and then his co-worker finally gave me my one slice of cheese pizza. The guy who I been flirting with just gave it to me for FREE. He did ask for my number as an exchange, but he said it was fine and I can just take it because I was so cute. Right On. Free pizza and no awkward phone call the next day.
Back to the concert. I find my homies and tell them my story, they didn't care I was flirting with a cute guy, they just wanted to know why I didn't bring them a slice too. Uh I don't know, maybe because I wasn't trying to pimp the poor guy out of a pizza. I'm cute but not a pimp. The group that was performing finished and a local DJ got on the turn tables. The crowd thinned out for intermission and that is when we seen my homies friend trying to flag him down to the front row right at the stage. They were still standing where we were at, and then I told them "I'm going down there cause I don't give a Fuck!" as you can tell beer has officially entered my blood stream. I get to the stage and realized the homies followed me. YAY! we are all here. The DJ was so horrible. This was a hip-hop show headlining KRS-ONE and he was playing old R&B songs from the early 90's. I couldn't feel it. There are so many good DJ's in Colorado I have no idea how this guy got this gig. It was all good, because as soon as he got off the DJ for KRS-ONE got on. He is local too but I can't remember his name because of my mind state. He was a beautiful man, I was in awe he looked like a mixed Tom Cruise with cool glasses and hat. He was spinning the turn tables like Tom Cruise in that movie Cocktail. He was amazing. KRS-ONE the man of the hour comes out on stage and it was surreal because he was literally right in front of me! I watched him on TV all my life and there he was standing so close I gave him dap twice throughout his set. He of course opened with 1986 South Bronx and he did a lot of free styling and he rapped over classical tracks showing his skill spittin rhymes on any bar of music. The B-Boys had their turn to show off their skillz in the middle of the show.
It was so awesome! I love KRS-ONE and feel honored to see him live in concert, another thing I can check off my bucket list.Jul 6, 2010
An Evening with Deepak
Namaste
While sitting inside the Mile High Church, the mood was calm as people stood around talking to fellow church members. There was a quiet murmur across the auditorium. I never been to this church before and it was obvious I was a stranger. Walking into the auditorium people handed out free copies of Deepak Chopra’s book titled Jesus. I sat in my chair holding on to my book and looked around at the strangers until the lights dimmed and everyone took their seats. Deepak walked on stage and everyone immediately gave applause. His red sparkle glasses caught every light and shimmered like a school of fish on a shallow beach. He was getting over a cold so his voice was raspy, but came across clear with his Indian accent echoing through the hall. Never standing in one place, he had no note cards, or a teleprompter. He was casual wearing blue jeans and a sport coat. As he paced back and forth he began to speak about the nature of consciousness as a fundamental reality that differentiates into cognition, biology, social interactions, personal relationships, environment, and the forces of nature. Deepak transitioned easily between each subject giving detailed philosophy on what is our true nature, where we come from, how to transform your self, and how to make the world better. Deepak involved the entire audience in two group meditations. We all closed our eyes as his soothing voice almost hypnotized the group into a calm peace. He spoke about road rage and how people do not have control over their own emotions. He was detailed about the cognitive way the brain functions as well as the biology of our bodies, mind, and spirit. The lecture was sold out and every seat was filled. Although I did not know any one personally; I felt enveloped in warmth and peace around my soul.
Jun 30, 2010
Who am I and Where am I going?
.Dating
I am sick of it
I have evolved into a different person
I use to be the bitter girl who kept every pound of baggage on my back
Always I would choose the exact same guy as the last
Trust never became an option and intimacy an afterthought
Time goes by
I compare my experience from the last
I ask myself, What did I learn?
Not enough
I use to be the sexual girl who stayed emotionally detached
And I would cry myself to sleep because I stayed alone
No more will I give up my power
I will own my bounty and only share it when I want to
Time goes by
I compare my experience from the last
I ask myself, What did I learn?
A little more
I use to be the needy girl who gave so much of myself I became lost
I would give, they would take, and I remained empty
Self worth is a trait that was eventually discovered
I made a vow to always will put myself first
Time goes by
I compare my experience from the last
I ask myself, What did I learn?
I become more aware
I am the strong minded girl who can see bull shit a mile away
And tell you how bad it smells and how fast it’s coming
I am consciously aware and can show my vulnerability when needed
I exchanged negative cognition with positive spirituality
Dating
I can deal with it
Understanding the energy I put into the universe
Makes me more aware of whom I will attract
Scum and perverts will always be there, but the ones
Who feel my energy will come at me in on my tune
Synchronizing our vibes of energy will create funnels of
Friendships and possible romance
My mind stays wide open and my heart put out its welcome mat
My soul receives waves of energy all around my being and
I accept with a new openness and understanding of
Who I am and the possibilities of what I can become.
Another Day In My Life
TIME TO CRY
A police officer in a under cover Dodge Intrepid comes out of nowhere and pulls right in front of my car on the side. They say to protect and serve, but I do not trust any person in uniform carrying a gun. He seemed really nice, until he called my license plate in to the station. I started to get nervous because the last time that happened I was in Aurora Municipal getting booked. If he is here to help me stranded on the side of the highway, why would he need to check if I am a felon too? He sat and waited with me until the tow truck guy could find me, and get through all the traffic to save me. Taking my car back to the dealership, the surprisingly nice police officer gave me a ride and dropped me off at the nearest TGIF restaurant. He offered to take me all the way home, but I was still worried the station was going to come over his radio and say to bring me in for a old traffic ticket. I wanted out of his car so fast, I almost opened the door while he was driving and tucked and rolled to safety.
“To check the balance of your checking account, please press 1.” beep- “Your balance is negative three hundred eighty nine dollars.” I press end, and with my mouth open, I began to cry. Looking at my cell phone as if it just told my world is coming to end any minute, I sat feeling numb all over. I feel the hot streams of tears rolling down my cheeks, gravity pulling each drop on my phone and hand. I sit and cry in silence; while sitting on my living room couch. I feel the redundant dysfunctional chain of having no money every month, and I am sick of it. I call my bank customer service line again on speaker phone because I can not believe what it just told me. I am in absolute denial about what the automated teller just spat out, and I need to make sure there was not some kind of wax build up in my ears. Forwarding through each prompt, I get back to the main menu. The female robotic voice said what I thought I heard the first time, but before I hang up this time, I need to know what happened. I can not just accept the fact I am broke, when I know I should not be this broke. “To hear the last ten checks paid, please press 5.” Beep- The clouds parted and my answer to my question was given. The curse of a post dated check I wrote a few months ago wanted to get paid now.
Just this past summer my main port of transportation was a plum color, 1994 Saturn. It was all I could afford three years ago, and with the exception of a few fender bender accidents, it was all I had to drive. Maybe it was the heat, or the neglected oil change that had this car put me on the highway to hell. It started with the first week of its demise. The clutch was sticking on each gear and my engine was sounding very irritable. Lights were flashing red on the dash board that would otherwise be invisible to me, but the sounds the car was making would not let me ignore the fact it was going to die if I did not take it in for repairs. I took it to the dealership where I bought the can cutter. That is what my mom would call old cars that were driving on its last pistol. After they keep my car for a few days, the diagnosis was my module packs needed to be replaced, and it would cost a little over four hundred dollars. I hitch a ride back to the dealership to pick up my fixed cutter.
Going to work, picking up children, running errands, is what I do as my every day activities. I need a reliable car to get me where I need to be every day of the week. Not even ten days later I am on the highway driving at least 80 mph, until rush hour makes me come to almost a complete stop. It is over 100 degrees outside, and 150 degrees in my car when the clutch no longer wanted to go in any gear shift. Stop and go traffic put me in a panic, while I slammed my gear shift in any direction possible, but nothing would stick. I cried, cursed, and cried again, until I had to drift onto the side of the busy highway. People were getting irritated with me for making them wait for my dirty, plum, plastic, toy car to move out of their way.
A police officer in a under cover Dodge Intrepid comes out of nowhere and pulls right in front of my car on the side. They say to protect and serve, but I do not trust any person in uniform carrying a gun. He seemed really nice, until he called my license plate in to the station. I started to get nervous because the last time that happened I was in Aurora Municipal getting booked. If he is here to help me stranded on the side of the highway, why would he need to check if I am a felon too? He sat and waited with me until the tow truck guy could find me, and get through all the traffic to save me. Taking my car back to the dealership, the surprisingly nice police officer gave me a ride and dropped me off at the nearest TGIF restaurant. He offered to take me all the way home, but I was still worried the station was going to come over his radio and say to bring me in for a old traffic ticket. I wanted out of his car so fast, I almost opened the door while he was driving and tucked and rolled to safety. One thousand dollars it cost to replace my clutch. I should have walked away right there and bought a skateboard, but they allowed me to post date checks to pay for it.
Exactly 14 days later, while driving home from work on another hot summer day, I found myself stuck in traffic due to construction. A million cars had to squeeze into one lane to get through, and I was right in the middle of the madness. My car did the unthinkable, the engine began to roar very loudly, my temperature gage casually moved to the hot letter H, and smoke seeped from my front hood like a chimney on the coldest day in winter. I could not go left, right, back, or fourth because I was stuck. I began to get very nervous, and started to panic again. I swear I knew my car was going to explode with me in it and I have not renewed my Will and testament for my kids yet. Ten minutes later I was finally able to cross the street and park at the gas station. Dressed in four inch heels, a skirt, and blouse I pop the hood and antifreeze is dripping everywhere. Smoke hit my face the way the dishwasher does when I interrupt during the drying cycle. What was I to do now? I am out of tears and out of patience, so I stood in the shade using my navigator on my cell phone, and I called the nearest dealership that would help me buy a new car.
Buying a new car took all my savings because I was not expecting to pay another $1,200 for a down payment along with all my current bills. I left my plastic curse of a car at the dealership and told the people that sold it to me they can have it back. I finally washed my hands of the evil, and now have reliable transportation to drive around town. Two months later I forgot all about the post dated checks I wrote for a car that never was fixed in the first place. The dealership had the audacity to continue processing my checks as if they actually ever fixed my car. This is why my bank account is negative, and this is why I am on my couch holding my cell phone with tears staining every crevice of my face. I feel vulnerable and weak, the only thing I can do is breath. Being a single mother with two children does not leave me any room to breath, but I have to breathe anyways. I always have to be strong, figure out a way to make it through the next week, and keep living life the best I can. I have to tell myself money comes and goes, and if I keep positive it will come back to me again one way or another.
Eve's story
I am so bored! That guy Adam God said I had to be with is more boring than this garden. He keeps rubbing it in that I only exist because of his missing rib. Who cares? I didn’t ask to be here, yet here I am. The insects are always biting me, I bleed from this hole in between my legs once a new moon, and I always feel grumpy. How is this supposed to be paradise; when I rather be anywhere else but here with HIM. Look at me now! I have resulted to talking to sheep. Sheep do you even care or know what I am saying to you? Probably not. I am just wasting my breath on another furry animal. Sheep you are my only friend right now because you don’t talk back. I actually enjoy this silence because whenever I try to tell Adam to stop touching me or stop trying to stick his weird thing in between the hole I bleed, he gets angry with me and won’t let me eat food with him. I don’t get him at all. I am not like you sheep. I can’t just let him jump on me and hump on me like the other sheep does to you. Do you like that sheep? I don’t. I do not like it all. I wish he would just leave me alone. That is why yesterday when I sneaked out of our hut I went on a walk so far away I almost got lost. The strangest thing happened sheep. I was just walking through the grass, gazing at the other animals and getting bitten by all of the insects. Out of nowhere a snake slithers down a tree and makes a SSSSS sound right next to my ear! I jumped and screamed so loud, but nobody was around to hear me. You haven’t heard the craziest part sheep. The snake began to speak to me. That is why I wonder if you can speak to me too, or understand what I am saying to you. The tree the snake came out of was a tree I never seen before. I noticed there were round red blossoms hanging from the tree branches and some were on the ground already. The snake then tells me that I should eat one. I asked the snake how he was speaking to me, but he didn’t answer me. He just kept slithering around my legs and up my body back into the tree as he spoke. He told me that if I took one bite of this fruit then I won’t have to deal with Adam anymore. I still did not understand how that was going to happen because Adam will look for me before the sun went down and try to hump on me again like he always does. The snake assured me that this fruit was special and one bite is all it would take for him to leave me alone forever. Sheep what else was I supposed to do? I really can not stand Adam and I wish he would just leave me alone, but since he won’t this seemed to be my only option. I ate it Sheep. It was so juicy and sweet. It was delicious and I couldn’t stop eating it. After I ate the fruit the snake disappeared the same way he appeared. I didn’t give it a second thought until I went back to Adam and he told me I must have done something bad because the sky looks different. I told him I didn’t do anything and he kept telling me I must have done something. I hate arguing with Adam because he is such a control freak. I wish he was quiet like you sheep, you have no idea how much I wish he never spoke a word to me again. Adam said I have to be back before the sun goes down today because God wants to talk to us both. I haven’t spoken to God since he took Adam’s rib when I came here. Maybe I did do something wrong Sheep. I can’t imagine what I did. Do you think that snake told me to eat that fruit to get Adam and me in trouble? That sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? I am not going to worry about it and I will let you know what God wanted with us tomorrow. I will see you later sheep, thank you for listening as always. See ya!
Wasted Life
Wasted Life
Are the ancient Myans right?
Nostradamus, Edgar Cayce, & the history channel have made me 100% paranoid about the remainder 2 of human life.
2012 is supposed to be the beginning of the end
And I have yet to begin to live.
What have I been doing the last 32 years?
Sleeping
Under a spell of a nurturing society the matrix of my reality is a delusion.
The pictures of my minds eye has been nothing more than illusions
8 mm shutters of imagined bliss and pain has left my soul lost.
Lost from love, true healthy love I am still searching…
Empty wastelands that surround my being like a violent sand storm,
I can no longer see my future because my past keeps the compass needle excited!
Have I wasted precious time trying to find my way?
The world is ending, the sky is falling, and my life seems futile
I had dreams and aspirations to be the next hot guest on Oprah’s couch and now even her show is ending.
Maybe the Myans are right,
And I should anxiously wait for the end of the world,
So I can finally write my last chapter to the fictional book I have been too lazy to write when I had time.
Are the ancient Myans right?
Nostradamus, Edgar Cayce, & the history channel have made me 100% paranoid about the remainder 2 of human life.
2012 is supposed to be the beginning of the end
And I have yet to begin to live.
What have I been doing the last 32 years?
Sleeping
Under a spell of a nurturing society the matrix of my reality is a delusion.
The pictures of my minds eye has been nothing more than illusions
8 mm shutters of imagined bliss and pain has left my soul lost.
Lost from love, true healthy love I am still searching…
Empty wastelands that surround my being like a violent sand storm,
I can no longer see my future because my past keeps the compass needle excited!
Have I wasted precious time trying to find my way?
The world is ending, the sky is falling, and my life seems futile
I had dreams and aspirations to be the next hot guest on Oprah’s couch and now even her show is ending.
Maybe the Myans are right,
And I should anxiously wait for the end of the world,
So I can finally write my last chapter to the fictional book I have been too lazy to write when I had time.
Poor, Poor...
My poor poor pussy
Bald, cold, and alone
Why can’t she have a revolution and protest the men
And keep her afro-centric bush letting it grow wild and free?
Free from the cares or worries of what men think is sexy
She is sexy because the mind attached knows she is sexy
But she does not look sexy
She needed to be groomed.
Like a small Yorkie or Poodle
She needed attention
So a makeover was done.
I trimmed, cut, shaved, creamed, and waxed
Waxed…and waxed..and waxed again
Each shred of my innocents yanked from its roots
My poor pussy is no longer warm and secure
Bald, cold, and alone
Held tightly by soft cotton hugs from Victoria’s 5 for 25
Secretly vulnerable but smooth my pussy can now get the stamp of approval
From a society who said women are only sexy when bald down there
No more hair to bare she stays bald down there
She fell into society’s trap like a lost sheep looking for her shepherd
By insisting women are only sexy when bald down there
So what if she flexed her muscles so big she pushed out not one, but two babies
She has been taken for granted, used, and sometimes abused in a good way
She brings me pleasure and warns me with pain
She survived cancer and still revived with a strength my sexy could only bring back
She is strong and demands respect from the men who only sees her sexy when she becomes…
My poor poor pussy
bald, cold, and alone.
Bald, cold, and alone
Why can’t she have a revolution and protest the men
And keep her afro-centric bush letting it grow wild and free?
Free from the cares or worries of what men think is sexy
She is sexy because the mind attached knows she is sexy
But she does not look sexy
She needed to be groomed.
Like a small Yorkie or Poodle
She needed attention
So a makeover was done.
I trimmed, cut, shaved, creamed, and waxed
Waxed…and waxed..and waxed again
Each shred of my innocents yanked from its roots
My poor pussy is no longer warm and secure
Bald, cold, and alone
Held tightly by soft cotton hugs from Victoria’s 5 for 25
Secretly vulnerable but smooth my pussy can now get the stamp of approval
From a society who said women are only sexy when bald down there
No more hair to bare she stays bald down there
She fell into society’s trap like a lost sheep looking for her shepherd
By insisting women are only sexy when bald down there
So what if she flexed her muscles so big she pushed out not one, but two babies
She has been taken for granted, used, and sometimes abused in a good way
She brings me pleasure and warns me with pain
She survived cancer and still revived with a strength my sexy could only bring back
She is strong and demands respect from the men who only sees her sexy when she becomes…
My poor poor pussy
bald, cold, and alone.
Dear Momma
Momma
I understand you were only a senior in high school
and you were still pro choice and allowed me…
sovereignty to develop in your womb and expand your 4’11” body.
It could have been worse- that is what I tell myself
She never traded me for cheap ready rock
She never pimped me to her habitual traffic of men
She never locked me in closets or beat me with wire hangers
What did she do?
She inflected 16 years of exploited self hatred
Never heard “I love you daughter”
Never received a hug or kiss for just being me
Never felt I had purpose or reason to be on this earth
Never spoke about life or what to expect from men
Never was I elevated to love myself or anyone else
Neglect left me buried alive
My soul smothered with hate
I had to learn how to breathe on my own
16 years young a tourist in my own life
Trying to fill empty voids with false love
My body became my tool to trick my mind I was wanted
No longer discarded I found worth with my pussy
“The power of p-u-s-s-y that’s why every mutha fucka in the world dress fly…”
Co-dependant, sadistic, self loathing, and degrading affairs is all I knew how to erect
over and over and over
the cycle was passed on like a useless baton
from grand mother, to mother, to daughter
My bricks are brittle stones held together with empty hope
overflowing with rejection and desolation
my foundation is weak and cracked
slowly sinking into a dark place in my heart
I wait for angels to save me
to love me
to want me
to find my inner Yahweh
to bring me into existence in what exists.
No more will I cry;
Why don’t you love me?
What did I do to make you reject me?
Through my tears I now see clearly
I had to learn to finally love me for me
I understand you were only a senior in high school
and you were still pro choice and allowed me…
sovereignty to develop in your womb and expand your 4’11” body.
It could have been worse- that is what I tell myself
She never traded me for cheap ready rock
She never pimped me to her habitual traffic of men
She never locked me in closets or beat me with wire hangers
What did she do?
She inflected 16 years of exploited self hatred
Never heard “I love you daughter”
Never received a hug or kiss for just being me
Never felt I had purpose or reason to be on this earth
Never spoke about life or what to expect from men
Never was I elevated to love myself or anyone else
Neglect left me buried alive
My soul smothered with hate
I had to learn how to breathe on my own
16 years young a tourist in my own life
Trying to fill empty voids with false love
My body became my tool to trick my mind I was wanted
No longer discarded I found worth with my pussy
“The power of p-u-s-s-y that’s why every mutha fucka in the world dress fly…”
Co-dependant, sadistic, self loathing, and degrading affairs is all I knew how to erect
over and over and over
the cycle was passed on like a useless baton
from grand mother, to mother, to daughter
My bricks are brittle stones held together with empty hope
overflowing with rejection and desolation
my foundation is weak and cracked
slowly sinking into a dark place in my heart
I wait for angels to save me
to love me
to want me
to find my inner Yahweh
to bring me into existence in what exists.
No more will I cry;
Why don’t you love me?
What did I do to make you reject me?
Through my tears I now see clearly
I had to learn to finally love me for me
Bitch Nigga'z
Bitch nigga’z…
I mean that for any man
of all races, ages, and creed
I don’t understand the new breed
that spawn from young mothers wombs
with fatherless dreams haunting his psyche
Bitch nigga’z
I don’t understand the new wave of sensitivity
Along with the useless soap opera emotions
that travels through his spine
This is what makes him cry and whine;
like a small baby who needs his binky
Whenever a woman or man hurts his feelings
He gets upset and pouts like a child
Bitch nigga’z
He tells on you to whomever he thinks
will give a damn about what was said
and gossips about it like the average woman
They claim they are a man and should be treated as such
But in reality their balls have shriveled into really small peanuts
Not the salty kind that sometimes make a good snack
The stale bland kind that leave a nasty after- smack
of bitch-ass-ness that slowly seeps through his pours
Reeking of a foul stench that makes my eyes sore
I can no longer see you because you become invisible
A waste of space;
a disgrace to all I love that is beautiful:
A strong man who can not take every little thing said so personal
Instead he should flip it around and claim his crown
Stand firm and cipher any situation around
Bitch NIGGA’Z.
I mean that for any man
of all races, ages, and creed
I don’t understand the new breed
that spawn from young mothers wombs
with fatherless dreams haunting his psyche
Bitch nigga’z
I don’t understand the new wave of sensitivity
Along with the useless soap opera emotions
that travels through his spine
This is what makes him cry and whine;
like a small baby who needs his binky
Whenever a woman or man hurts his feelings
He gets upset and pouts like a child
Bitch nigga’z
He tells on you to whomever he thinks
will give a damn about what was said
and gossips about it like the average woman
They claim they are a man and should be treated as such
But in reality their balls have shriveled into really small peanuts
Not the salty kind that sometimes make a good snack
The stale bland kind that leave a nasty after- smack
of bitch-ass-ness that slowly seeps through his pours
Reeking of a foul stench that makes my eyes sore
I can no longer see you because you become invisible
A waste of space;
a disgrace to all I love that is beautiful:
A strong man who can not take every little thing said so personal
Instead he should flip it around and claim his crown
Stand firm and cipher any situation around
Bitch NIGGA’Z.
