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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

“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.

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.

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

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.