Dislikes:
homework with 30 days of school left
cheap flat irons
cold wind
people who lack integrity looking to help you
stinky feet
people who stare
getting to know a severely socially awkward person
Likes:
intimate conversations
texting
photography at the park
making a wise decision
hearing about an answered prayer
laughing until tears
discovering a new music genre
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Be.Still. (Part Three -- Grief)
I had just seen him no more than 6 hours prior.
Playfully hugged him and
tugged at one of his locks while he sat on our couch talking to my mother.
And now.
He was gone.
That night still haunts my dreams...
...there were too many people in my room at once:
some gazing back and forth from my mother to me,
while others simply lowered their eyes to the floor.
My mother was struggling to explain something to me, but all I heard was:
"Mike"..."gone"..."he's gone".
I cannot put into words my initial feeling, but I do remember being confused.
It was if all of the logic and reasoning that I had was no help to me...
All sensibility and understanding that a 14 year old usually possesses did not come through for me in that moment.
All I know, is that I felt alone. Abandoned. And wherever my brother was...I wanted to join him.
I could not bear the thought of being left alone here.
Left to contend with the process of loss and mourning.
And having to watch those closest to me endure insurmountable pain.
I knew it the moment my mother's words escaped her lips that pain was promised.
So, in my head...I ran.
Full speed...away from the pain that pursued my soul.
The following year of my life...I lived in a personal hell where the flames could not reach me.
They scorched my family clean. Especially my mother.
I helplessly watched her cry and scream. Her grief hit her in spasms; at unexpected moments. In such sporadic succession that I walked on eggshells in my home.
I did not smile.
I did not speak.
...and I dared not cry.
I had to keep running.
Until...
February 28, 2000.
372 days after my brother died.
I sat on my bed, distracted with something that I was drawing.
I happened to gaze over at the picture of him on my nightstand.
I quickly looked away, but felt a throbbing in my chest.
I opened my mouth, and said to my empty room:
"I miss you Mike."
Tears followed the release of my words.
Many...so many tears.
I cannot remember how long I sat mourning on my bed.
Quiet sobs turned into loud, angry wailing.
When I could cry no more...I wiped my face and saw my pencil and notepad lying on my bed.
The silence in my room was peaceful, and the words in my head gathered and aligned.
I picked up both the pencil and notepad. Wrote my very first poem.
About him.
About my brother.
So grief taught me a very personal lesson:
Running from death preoccupies you from living.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Be.Still. (Part Two -- Anger)
I hated him for what he did to me.
To my mother.
I remember nights as a small girl,
gazing at his kind, black eyes with my bed's sheer pink canopy
outlining the safety in his expression. "Good night, my baby", he would say.
And I believed him...
...after all, he was the only father I'd ever known as a girl.
He let me prop my tiny feet on his and dance across the living room to the Temptations.
He bought me beautiful, Black barbie dolls for Christmas
and
made heartfelt, awful attempts at braiding my hair while my mom worked double shifts.
But soon after I had to learn how to master the side ponytail on my own.
And my mother's role became unisex.
He left.
And I'd never known hatred until that afternoon
when I saw him raise that strong hand above my brother's head.
That same hand that I usually felt open-palmed to swat my behind after misbehaving...
...now clenched to form a fist.
My mother's shrill cry preceded
I sat at the end of the hallway feeling a lump form in my chest.
I hated him.
My world started to speed up; progressing in a spinning motion.
Circling past moments where I was content and safe...
...ending up right back where I sat at the end of my hallway.
I danced with anger.
A slow, simple grind
entrancing.
Switching back and forth from waltz to tango.
...and my world moved with us.
It wasn't until I saw him 13 years later that
my world stopped spinning.
His father had died and my mother wanted to pay respects to his family.
I wasn't expecting to see him that day, but the moment I looked up
and saw him: older, shorter, and more docile...
I froze. Swallowed. and felt no lump there.
Stillness taught me another lesson:
Forgiveness is the gate that leads to the path of Freedom.
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Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Be.Still. (Part One--Love)
He and I.
We are both seniors in college.
Steps away from cap -n- gowns, and a summer's length from graduate school.
So.
we are both (individually) doing this...dance.
Like a running back does as he is yards away from the endzone.
We take stance on tiptoes, avoiding and desperately dodging the things that
doesn't want he or I to achieve the goal.
(i.e. "Senioritis")
In the midst of all this...we go nowhere.
Friends...and nothing more.
Not regrettably, I mean. I do not say this with the slightest hint of remorse.
Because of one tremendous fact: we are still.
I've thought so many times about running away (metaphorically) with him.
Snatching the potential with swift hands and taking off directly for the future.
Towards the center of my heart wherein lies the desire to be with him.
Yet,
there are blessed moments where I am sitting near him...and no words are spoken.
It could be because one or both of us are tackling academics. Or cleaning.
Contentedly writing/ or nodding along to Mos Def or Little Brother.
Then.
I feel the world halt.
The chaos of life, the bright colors of the finish line's ribbon, and the encouragement of the crowd
All in an instant configure themselves,
And get in line according to priority.
And it suddenly makes sense.
Stillness gently reminds me:
God has me exactly where I need to be.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Be Still. (Intro)
Ever notice how everything is most quiet right before the sunrise?
Take a moment to calm the clamor and rest your soul.
The Lord knew that we would need moments like these before He gives us a new day.
....
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
More to Bear.
There are certain things that I cannot bear. And it does not involve trivial things such as the way someone chews with their mouth open, or when people do not write better than they speak. No, there are certain things that are literally unbearable to my senses, and border on heartbreaking…
1. The screams of a mourning mother
2. The display of an abused child
3. The aftermath of a hate crime
4. Desperate, angry cuts on wrists
5. The eerie silence down the hallways of a high school after a shooting
6. The hidden bruises on a broken lover’s body
7. The long lines at soup kitchens and homeless shelters
8. The existence of child pornography websites
At times, my heart is overwhelmed. Not by the temporary turmoil that I experience, but that I will raise my future children in a world where things such as these are normal. Many of us would rather shut out these images. We’d rather not discuss them because in a way, homicide keeps the earth from overpopulating, and poverty allows the economy to be stabilized.
Someone has to suffer for others to flourish.
That is the truth of our society. Our stark realism has become the way that we choose to live our lives, and it keeps us from wanting better. It has made us apathetic and detached from the basic human condition. It is a game of Russian Roulette, and we are hoping that one day it isn’t our child, or it doesn’t happen at our college campus. But who’s to say? Who makes those decisions? Who allows it all to happen?
Well, we know the answer. Quite a complicated explanation…but it can be spoken in one word: God. The things I listed are completely unbearable, and the fact that it affects us so reflects back on a tendency that goes beyond our genetic make-up. It reflects a relatable, emotional God. The Bible says that God turned His face away in silence as His Son was martyred. Why would God do that? Isn’t He beyond emotion?
We truly reflect His essence (translated “Image”). So why allow us, His Beloved, to continue to experience such heartache? Because it is required for action.
Look at our history…great convictions always precede great actions. Look at the emotions that led to the Civil Rights Movement. The anger and the heartache and the frustration. It was a gut feeling that their current treatment was immoral...DESPITE what the law allowed.
Domestic violence did not become illegal through the law…but first in the heart. Great emotions provoked law-makers to change the norm. Though laws are different throughout our world, each human being has one thing in common: emotions. And we were created to bear them. So that we can make a difference.
1. The screams of a mourning mother
2. The display of an abused child
3. The aftermath of a hate crime
4. Desperate, angry cuts on wrists
5. The eerie silence down the hallways of a high school after a shooting
6. The hidden bruises on a broken lover’s body
7. The long lines at soup kitchens and homeless shelters
8. The existence of child pornography websites
At times, my heart is overwhelmed. Not by the temporary turmoil that I experience, but that I will raise my future children in a world where things such as these are normal. Many of us would rather shut out these images. We’d rather not discuss them because in a way, homicide keeps the earth from overpopulating, and poverty allows the economy to be stabilized.
Someone has to suffer for others to flourish.
That is the truth of our society. Our stark realism has become the way that we choose to live our lives, and it keeps us from wanting better. It has made us apathetic and detached from the basic human condition. It is a game of Russian Roulette, and we are hoping that one day it isn’t our child, or it doesn’t happen at our college campus. But who’s to say? Who makes those decisions? Who allows it all to happen?
Well, we know the answer. Quite a complicated explanation…but it can be spoken in one word: God. The things I listed are completely unbearable, and the fact that it affects us so reflects back on a tendency that goes beyond our genetic make-up. It reflects a relatable, emotional God. The Bible says that God turned His face away in silence as His Son was martyred. Why would God do that? Isn’t He beyond emotion?
We truly reflect His essence (translated “Image”). So why allow us, His Beloved, to continue to experience such heartache? Because it is required for action.
Look at our history…great convictions always precede great actions. Look at the emotions that led to the Civil Rights Movement. The anger and the heartache and the frustration. It was a gut feeling that their current treatment was immoral...DESPITE what the law allowed.
Domestic violence did not become illegal through the law…but first in the heart. Great emotions provoked law-makers to change the norm. Though laws are different throughout our world, each human being has one thing in common: emotions. And we were created to bear them. So that we can make a difference.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Love is Hard.
So.
I've been a single woman for almost 38 days...and I've written my thoughts in this little notebook everyday. Each time I think of him, I write it in the notebook. My plan is to give it to him in the event that we get back together.
It is quite possible that I will write in this notebook forever...
I can honestly say that I have faced some pretty dark moments...with only the presence of my Heavenly Father as a comfort. I have had quite a few victorious moments; where we caught rare glimpses of each other, and were reminded of what it is that we actually share. I have darted back and forth from hating you to needing you, and God has sustained my heart. He is keeping me, daily. Moment by moment.
Second by second.
There are times when I begin to think that I am being treated unfairly. That I am being taken advantage of. I think, at times, that this (or he) is not worth going through all of this pain. Being a woman, I am not built with the innate ability to ignore or distract myself from my emotions. And though I have managed to make them my servants, and not becoming enslaved by them, I still cannot ignore their presence. So, each time I want to react or give up...when I want to throw it all away...I fall to my knees and submit them to the only Person who can give me the strength to go on.
I have wanted to hurt him. Erase him completely from my memory. Make him experience what it is like to be dead to me. And tears well up in my eyes when I think on these things, because I do not wish to live life without him. I very well could...but the thought gives me such a sickening feeling.
I love this man. Truly. Even though he swears that he knows not who he is yet...I love him. The him that I know he truly is...inside. I love the him that he is becoming. I love the him that he cannot even recognize. And I see that the circumstances and issues woven in and through his heart are more entangled than he would like. So, I pray and I beg God to cradle him while he endures this road to self-discovery...hoping that when he reaches his destination; I am still who he wants in his life.
I stand in the spot that has been a constant since before we started dating: the loyal friend. Not like most, who weave into and out of his life during moments of convenience or need. Even though he is completely reflective and has retreated deeply inside of himself (making an appearance when necessary). Even when I am confused about where his mind dwells....because he doesn't talk to me as much these days. Regardless, I stand.
Here.
Scared to death to move; shushing the cries of my heart.
Blinking back tears as I take it, blow by blow.
I won't leave him now.
Love Is Hard - James Morrison
Friday, March 6, 2009
Reese's vs. Almond Joy (Ladies Version)
My first real attempt at short-story writing (that I've completed anyway...).
My muse? None other than the writer of the Original Story: N.Steven.
Enjoy.
PART ONE
I love chocolate.
Like, obsessively. And I’m not one of those females who save chocolate for seasons of PMS-ing and post-break up therapy. If I happen to wake up, it should be a good day for chocolate.
I don’t know what it is about chocolate, really. Could it be the extraordinary sweetness? Or the surge of energy and euphoria you feel after each delectable bite? Or maybe it’s the attractive, deep brown color?
Whatever the reason, I am a fan.
My weapon of choice? Almond Joy.
It’s the safe type of candy bar; it provides me with a security that’s soothing and self-assuring. As a little girl, my mom would let me eat the other half of her Almond Joy bar on the way home from church; as a treat for not cutting up with my older cousins. So naturally, after a very long day of classes and work, it’s pretty kosher to reward myself with a nice, soothing and true Almond Joy candy bar.
Eating an Almond Joy became like a routine of mine that I reverenced faithfully. Especially after I started dating Reginald. We are very different, though. Coming from a pampered, well-to-do upbringing, he’s a stark contrast to my gritty, thorough reality. At times, I think that this difference has to do with why he doesn’t understand me. Yet, he is like my favorite candy bar in many ways. The security that I feel with him sets my mind at ease, but I find myself becoming queasy at the thought of being his wife.
This is one of two huge reasons why I still haven’t given him an answer yet…
The other reason being that yesterday was Thursday.
Now, Thursdays are usually pretty typical:
5:45 am – 1st alarm goes off
7 am – 3 pm – classes
3:15 pm – Reggie waits for me outside the Biology lab room
3:30 pm – He drives me to the corner deli for a quick bite and then he drops me off at work.
8 pm - Reggie picks me up, McDonald’s in hand & takes me home.
[Usually, he stays over until the wee hours of the morning.]
Thursdays are supposed to always go like this. But, yesterday didn’t go as I’d planned…
PART TWO
Thursday(4 pm)
“I’m sorry Reggie, but Professor Stern would not let me and Beth leave until we got the pH levels right!”
“Well, you should have explained to him your work schedule! You know you cannot afford to be late to work again, Alexandria!”
Reggie knows that I hate it when he, or anyone else, calls me Alexandria. I’ve gone by Alex since the third grade, but he thinks it’s too masculine. “Alex is a boy’s name” he says.
I rolled my eyes at him.
“I do NOT need another lecture, Reginald. I am perfectly capable of handling my own business.”
Reggie scoffed.
“Oh right. Just like you handled yourself last semester by getting on academic warning and almost getting kicked out of school! Right?”
Oh, NO HE DIDN’T…
“What?!” I hissed. “You know that my family was falling apart then, and I couldn’t concentrate on –“
“Oh please. Alex. Please,” Reggie said, cutting me off, “when are you going to take responsibility for your own life?”
Heck no. That’s the last straw.
“Right now. ...PULL OVER.” I said through clenched teeth.
“But baby, it’s---”
“PULL OVER! NOW.”
I forced Reggie to pull into the nearest parking lot, jumped out of the car, and stomped off. Reggie yelled out of the car after me,
“Alexandria! You are acting childish! Come on. Quit this ghetto girl act of yours and get back in the car please!”
This man is definitely working my last nerve.
Feeling heat surge through my chest, I glared back at him. I may be street wise, but I am not ghetto.
“You’ve got some nerve, Reggie…” I paused.
“We’re through. I’m tired of this. It’s over.”
As I turned to walk away, I could feel tears forming beneath my eyelids. Not wanting Reggie to see, I turned my back to him. I heard a door open and quickly close.
Mmph. I hope this man don’t think the usual apology is going to cut it this time.
Then, I heard his car drive off.
Slightly disappointed, I looked back to see my purse and schoolbag lying on the asphalt.
Great. Now what am I going to do?
Looking around, I noticed the parking lot lay in front of a small convenience store. I also noticed that my stomach was growling. Dusting my bags off, I searched my purse, only to find a total of $1.48.
Shoot. I left my debit card on the dresser.
Irate and hungry, I started towards the tiny convenience store…praying that they carried Almond Joy candy bars.
PART THREE
(4:45 pm)
It was hot in that store. But, I momentarily ignored my body’s rising temperature and desperately scanned each section for my dependable Almond Joy bar.
Hershey bar, no.
Twix, no.
Dear Lord, it’s so hot today.
Feeling beads of sweat form at the small of my back, I tugged at the bottom of my white, button-down blouse; untucked it out of my high-waist, khaki skirt. Knotting the side of my blouse gave me little relief, so I loosened the first two buttons to let the warm air circulate around my neck and upper chest.
My stomach reminded me of my current pursuit, so I kept looking.
Three Musketeers, no.
Butterfinger, no.
Reese’s Cups, n—Mmm. I’ve never even had these before.
Picking up the bright orange package, I inspected the outside. I’d heard people rave about this “candy bar”, but being loyal to Almond Joy (not to mention being wary of all that peanut butter), I never tried it for myself…
“Something I can help you with, miss?”
That voice came out of nowhere. I didn't even notice him standing there at the end of the aisle...
“Um” I muttered, looking up, “No, I think I can---”
His smile was the first thing I noticed. It wasn’t too wide.
I remember men that had hurt me in the past always had those wide smiles. Like car salesman or those Jehovah's Witness people that come by my house from time to time. All of them wanted something.
So at some point, any wide smile on a new face became a symbol of caution. But his smile was subtle. Friendly…genuinely friendly. Hidden mostly behind the corners of his mouth. He didn't appear to want anything. Quite the opposite, I noticed.
Hmm. I bet his real smile is staggering.
Wait….aren’t I talking? What am I even saying?
I gathered myself.
“…wait. Let me start that over again”, I said, trying to salvage my dignity. “Um, where are the Almond Joy candy bars?”
“Oh those…” the gorgeous stranger said. “You don’t want those…”
Oh really? This should be good...
“I don’t...why not?”
“Oh, well an Almond Joy is nice, don’t get me wrong….But it doesn’t seem suitable for someone like you.”
I straightened and raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.
“Someone like me?”
Immediately sensing my defenses, he softened the more.
“No, miss. What I mean to say is...”
He paused and reached to pick up one of the neatly arranged Reese’s; slowly walking towards me. For once, I didn’t feel threatened or inclined to reach into my purse.
He continued.
“…Almond Joy’s are safe. Casual. Convenient. And you miss, don’t look like the type to need anything casual or convenient…”
As he spoke, he stood directly in front of me; purposefully breaking the seal on the Reese’s Cup wrapper. Oddly, he looked as though he’s done this before. And he wanted to show me...
“Is-is that right?” I softly stammered.
“Oh yes, ma’am. You see, a Reese’s Cup is more your manner. It’s deep and exquisite. Full-bodied. It captures your senses and takes you in. Encases you in its softness and envelopes you in its delicate passion. And it takes you slowly…”
The stranger then slid two steady fingers into the candy wrapper; pulling out one of the two tiny delights. Leaning protectively and boldly towards me, he slipped the candy’s individual wrapper off, parted his lips, and took a bite.
I could feel my knees start to give way as I watched him slowly chew. In wonder, I gazed at his mouth; darting back and forth from there to his eyes. I watched the muscles in his face, chin, and neck tense and release. I scanned the fine trail of dark hair along the bottom of his chin and along his top lip. The warm air around me thickened as he let out a low and short, satisfied sound; his long eyelashes fluttered slightly. This man was hungry. For something...and it wasn't that Reese's cup. The ecstasy on his face calmed and peace was what lay behind.
Sexy.
Beautiful, even.
...and I wanted him -- it.
I dared to venture back toward his eyes. It was then that I realized that he was focused on me. Intently. As if he’d been watching me watching him…the whole time.
I flushed red. But I couldn’t look away. So, I simply melted underneath his soft, curious gaze.
He spoke first.
“If you're interested, miss, they’re two for $1.”
Feeling like I would come undone, I grabbed two off of the shelf next to where we stood; gripping them next to my pounding chest.
“Thank you” was all I could manage.
With the same, knowing smile, he replied, “You’re most welcome, miss. Have a good day. Oh, and please come again.”
I walked off, carefully clutching the two Reese’s Cups packages; wiping the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my free hand.
You better believe I’ll be back.
My muse? None other than the writer of the Original Story: N.Steven.
Enjoy.
PART ONE
I love chocolate.
Like, obsessively. And I’m not one of those females who save chocolate for seasons of PMS-ing and post-break up therapy. If I happen to wake up, it should be a good day for chocolate.
I don’t know what it is about chocolate, really. Could it be the extraordinary sweetness? Or the surge of energy and euphoria you feel after each delectable bite? Or maybe it’s the attractive, deep brown color?
Whatever the reason, I am a fan.
My weapon of choice? Almond Joy.
It’s the safe type of candy bar; it provides me with a security that’s soothing and self-assuring. As a little girl, my mom would let me eat the other half of her Almond Joy bar on the way home from church; as a treat for not cutting up with my older cousins. So naturally, after a very long day of classes and work, it’s pretty kosher to reward myself with a nice, soothing and true Almond Joy candy bar.
Eating an Almond Joy became like a routine of mine that I reverenced faithfully. Especially after I started dating Reginald. We are very different, though. Coming from a pampered, well-to-do upbringing, he’s a stark contrast to my gritty, thorough reality. At times, I think that this difference has to do with why he doesn’t understand me. Yet, he is like my favorite candy bar in many ways. The security that I feel with him sets my mind at ease, but I find myself becoming queasy at the thought of being his wife.
This is one of two huge reasons why I still haven’t given him an answer yet…
The other reason being that yesterday was Thursday.
Now, Thursdays are usually pretty typical:
5:45 am – 1st alarm goes off
7 am – 3 pm – classes
3:15 pm – Reggie waits for me outside the Biology lab room
3:30 pm – He drives me to the corner deli for a quick bite and then he drops me off at work.
8 pm - Reggie picks me up, McDonald’s in hand & takes me home.
[Usually, he stays over until the wee hours of the morning.]
Thursdays are supposed to always go like this. But, yesterday didn’t go as I’d planned…
PART TWO
Thursday(4 pm)
“I’m sorry Reggie, but Professor Stern would not let me and Beth leave until we got the pH levels right!”
“Well, you should have explained to him your work schedule! You know you cannot afford to be late to work again, Alexandria!”
Reggie knows that I hate it when he, or anyone else, calls me Alexandria. I’ve gone by Alex since the third grade, but he thinks it’s too masculine. “Alex is a boy’s name” he says.
I rolled my eyes at him.
“I do NOT need another lecture, Reginald. I am perfectly capable of handling my own business.”
Reggie scoffed.
“Oh right. Just like you handled yourself last semester by getting on academic warning and almost getting kicked out of school! Right?”
Oh, NO HE DIDN’T…
“What?!” I hissed. “You know that my family was falling apart then, and I couldn’t concentrate on –“
“Oh please. Alex. Please,” Reggie said, cutting me off, “when are you going to take responsibility for your own life?”
Heck no. That’s the last straw.
“Right now. ...PULL OVER.” I said through clenched teeth.
“But baby, it’s---”
“PULL OVER! NOW.”
I forced Reggie to pull into the nearest parking lot, jumped out of the car, and stomped off. Reggie yelled out of the car after me,
“Alexandria! You are acting childish! Come on. Quit this ghetto girl act of yours and get back in the car please!”
This man is definitely working my last nerve.
Feeling heat surge through my chest, I glared back at him. I may be street wise, but I am not ghetto.
“You’ve got some nerve, Reggie…” I paused.
“We’re through. I’m tired of this. It’s over.”
As I turned to walk away, I could feel tears forming beneath my eyelids. Not wanting Reggie to see, I turned my back to him. I heard a door open and quickly close.
Mmph. I hope this man don’t think the usual apology is going to cut it this time.
Then, I heard his car drive off.
Slightly disappointed, I looked back to see my purse and schoolbag lying on the asphalt.
Great. Now what am I going to do?
Looking around, I noticed the parking lot lay in front of a small convenience store. I also noticed that my stomach was growling. Dusting my bags off, I searched my purse, only to find a total of $1.48.
Shoot. I left my debit card on the dresser.
Irate and hungry, I started towards the tiny convenience store…praying that they carried Almond Joy candy bars.
PART THREE
(4:45 pm)
It was hot in that store. But, I momentarily ignored my body’s rising temperature and desperately scanned each section for my dependable Almond Joy bar.
Hershey bar, no.
Twix, no.
Dear Lord, it’s so hot today.
Feeling beads of sweat form at the small of my back, I tugged at the bottom of my white, button-down blouse; untucked it out of my high-waist, khaki skirt. Knotting the side of my blouse gave me little relief, so I loosened the first two buttons to let the warm air circulate around my neck and upper chest.
My stomach reminded me of my current pursuit, so I kept looking.
Three Musketeers, no.
Butterfinger, no.
Reese’s Cups, n—Mmm. I’ve never even had these before.
Picking up the bright orange package, I inspected the outside. I’d heard people rave about this “candy bar”, but being loyal to Almond Joy (not to mention being wary of all that peanut butter), I never tried it for myself…
“Something I can help you with, miss?”
That voice came out of nowhere. I didn't even notice him standing there at the end of the aisle...
“Um” I muttered, looking up, “No, I think I can---”
His smile was the first thing I noticed. It wasn’t too wide.
I remember men that had hurt me in the past always had those wide smiles. Like car salesman or those Jehovah's Witness people that come by my house from time to time. All of them wanted something.
So at some point, any wide smile on a new face became a symbol of caution. But his smile was subtle. Friendly…genuinely friendly. Hidden mostly behind the corners of his mouth. He didn't appear to want anything. Quite the opposite, I noticed.
Hmm. I bet his real smile is staggering.
Wait….aren’t I talking? What am I even saying?
I gathered myself.
“…wait. Let me start that over again”, I said, trying to salvage my dignity. “Um, where are the Almond Joy candy bars?”
“Oh those…” the gorgeous stranger said. “You don’t want those…”
Oh really? This should be good...
“I don’t...why not?”
“Oh, well an Almond Joy is nice, don’t get me wrong….But it doesn’t seem suitable for someone like you.”
I straightened and raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.
“Someone like me?”
Immediately sensing my defenses, he softened the more.
“No, miss. What I mean to say is...”
He paused and reached to pick up one of the neatly arranged Reese’s; slowly walking towards me. For once, I didn’t feel threatened or inclined to reach into my purse.
He continued.
“…Almond Joy’s are safe. Casual. Convenient. And you miss, don’t look like the type to need anything casual or convenient…”
As he spoke, he stood directly in front of me; purposefully breaking the seal on the Reese’s Cup wrapper. Oddly, he looked as though he’s done this before. And he wanted to show me...
“Is-is that right?” I softly stammered.
“Oh yes, ma’am. You see, a Reese’s Cup is more your manner. It’s deep and exquisite. Full-bodied. It captures your senses and takes you in. Encases you in its softness and envelopes you in its delicate passion. And it takes you slowly…”
The stranger then slid two steady fingers into the candy wrapper; pulling out one of the two tiny delights. Leaning protectively and boldly towards me, he slipped the candy’s individual wrapper off, parted his lips, and took a bite.
I could feel my knees start to give way as I watched him slowly chew. In wonder, I gazed at his mouth; darting back and forth from there to his eyes. I watched the muscles in his face, chin, and neck tense and release. I scanned the fine trail of dark hair along the bottom of his chin and along his top lip. The warm air around me thickened as he let out a low and short, satisfied sound; his long eyelashes fluttered slightly. This man was hungry. For something...and it wasn't that Reese's cup. The ecstasy on his face calmed and peace was what lay behind.
Sexy.
Beautiful, even.
...and I wanted him -- it.
I dared to venture back toward his eyes. It was then that I realized that he was focused on me. Intently. As if he’d been watching me watching him…the whole time.
I flushed red. But I couldn’t look away. So, I simply melted underneath his soft, curious gaze.
He spoke first.
“If you're interested, miss, they’re two for $1.”
Feeling like I would come undone, I grabbed two off of the shelf next to where we stood; gripping them next to my pounding chest.
“Thank you” was all I could manage.
With the same, knowing smile, he replied, “You’re most welcome, miss. Have a good day. Oh, and please come again.”
I walked off, carefully clutching the two Reese’s Cups packages; wiping the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my free hand.
You better believe I’ll be back.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Lonely In the Crowd
I have come to a decision.
I really need a Best Friend. Almost all of the people that I know in my life are there for a purpose, and a God-given purpose at that, but no one is here to offer me unconditional empathy and understanding. I am there to hold them in a strong embrace and listen to their problems and issues…stay up with them into the wee hours of the morning and pray with them…but no one is taking one second to be there for me. I am the loyal listener. The weeping heart for the pain of men. God’s given me the gift of mercy and affirmation, but my cistern remains dry most of the time.
And I’m not talking about advice. No…I get plenty of that. Everyone has a say-so in my situation on an intellectual and at times, a prophetic level. But mouths grow silent when I am not the one being strong. People are shocked when I am stand-offish and quiet; lacking the right words or the encouraging statement. I see turned backs and upturned noses when I am irrational and cruel.
And I cannot do this anymore. I can’t keep giving with no one willing to listen to me.
I get the patronizing “Are you okay?” but no one really wants to hear the answer. No one will grab me and hold me until each and every tear has left my eyes.
I recently texted a friend of mine to pray for me because of a issue I was going through with my recent dispersed relationship….she told me later that she would rather have not been in the middle… said a quick “Lord, help them” for me…and then went back to sleep.
I don’t have the time or the luxury to be weak in my life. I go to RA meetings and accountabilities in public places with people who ask me questions so that I can open my life up wide…but because there are schedules to keep and logistics to tackle…I keep a lid on what I say. It isn’t that I do not trust these people…I am longing for a Friend to completely trust and lay down my burdens to.
The reality is that I am surrounded by needy, broken people. And that I am myself.
In reading my Word, I noticed that every time Jesus attempted to get alone with the Father…or even with His closest companions…he was interrupted by the cries of the crowd. I understand that God is my life-force. He is my Best Friend. He is the only person that I can truly confide in…
…but who is my Beloved Disciple? Who are my best friends? Where are they? Why am I all alone in this?
Why am I facing the certainty of the Cross in solitude?
But didn’t Jesus? He had the disciples, yes. But they all fled. In His moment of intense need, they all abandoned Him. And there He was….enduring the sins of the world on that rugged tree….alone. And He cried out,
“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani”
Even in that moment…Our Lord and Savior felt abandoned by God. His Father. He felt that God had turned His holy face away from the pain that His Only Son was enduring.
But He was there. Right there.
Regardless of His Father’s silence…Jesus paid it all.
For me.
For you.
For every lonely heart pushing through this crowded, overpopulated world.
That we would never again have to feel that coldness that Adam & his wife Eve felt as they stood looking through the outside gates of their lost paradise…
I really need a Best Friend. Almost all of the people that I know in my life are there for a purpose, and a God-given purpose at that, but no one is here to offer me unconditional empathy and understanding. I am there to hold them in a strong embrace and listen to their problems and issues…stay up with them into the wee hours of the morning and pray with them…but no one is taking one second to be there for me. I am the loyal listener. The weeping heart for the pain of men. God’s given me the gift of mercy and affirmation, but my cistern remains dry most of the time.
And I’m not talking about advice. No…I get plenty of that. Everyone has a say-so in my situation on an intellectual and at times, a prophetic level. But mouths grow silent when I am not the one being strong. People are shocked when I am stand-offish and quiet; lacking the right words or the encouraging statement. I see turned backs and upturned noses when I am irrational and cruel.
And I cannot do this anymore. I can’t keep giving with no one willing to listen to me.
I get the patronizing “Are you okay?” but no one really wants to hear the answer. No one will grab me and hold me until each and every tear has left my eyes.
I recently texted a friend of mine to pray for me because of a issue I was going through with my recent dispersed relationship….she told me later that she would rather have not been in the middle… said a quick “Lord, help them” for me…and then went back to sleep.
I don’t have the time or the luxury to be weak in my life. I go to RA meetings and accountabilities in public places with people who ask me questions so that I can open my life up wide…but because there are schedules to keep and logistics to tackle…I keep a lid on what I say. It isn’t that I do not trust these people…I am longing for a Friend to completely trust and lay down my burdens to.
The reality is that I am surrounded by needy, broken people. And that I am myself.
In reading my Word, I noticed that every time Jesus attempted to get alone with the Father…or even with His closest companions…he was interrupted by the cries of the crowd. I understand that God is my life-force. He is my Best Friend. He is the only person that I can truly confide in…
…but who is my Beloved Disciple? Who are my best friends? Where are they? Why am I all alone in this?
Why am I facing the certainty of the Cross in solitude?
But didn’t Jesus? He had the disciples, yes. But they all fled. In His moment of intense need, they all abandoned Him. And there He was….enduring the sins of the world on that rugged tree….alone. And He cried out,
“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani”
Even in that moment…Our Lord and Savior felt abandoned by God. His Father. He felt that God had turned His holy face away from the pain that His Only Son was enduring.
But He was there. Right there.
Regardless of His Father’s silence…Jesus paid it all.
For me.
For you.
For every lonely heart pushing through this crowded, overpopulated world.
That we would never again have to feel that coldness that Adam & his wife Eve felt as they stood looking through the outside gates of their lost paradise…
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
A Means to an End.
I have no desire to be honest or direct about my love life at the moment.
I don't want anyone to know how much I despise patience and the seasons that involve stillness.
This process is simply a means to an end.
And I don't want you to know that I am hating this...
Stress outlines your eyes in red, but the substance exiting my heart possess the same hue.
But I don't want to say a word.
Honesty would only turn the attention from your pain to mine...with only the latter ceasing.
So, if my absence is like a warm balm on your wounds...then I will stay away forever.
My means to an end... for you.
No. I don't want to admit this...I don't want anyone to know that I am in this tomb alone.
That I die a thousand deaths each time I am near enough to touch you.
Yet this is my means to an end...
...Because nothing can be resurrected if it isn't first lifeless.
So, I will endure these three cold, motionless days if it means that love lives here.
I don't want anyone to know how much I despise patience and the seasons that involve stillness.
This process is simply a means to an end.
And I don't want you to know that I am hating this...
Stress outlines your eyes in red, but the substance exiting my heart possess the same hue.
But I don't want to say a word.
Honesty would only turn the attention from your pain to mine...with only the latter ceasing.
So, if my absence is like a warm balm on your wounds...then I will stay away forever.
My means to an end... for you.
No. I don't want to admit this...I don't want anyone to know that I am in this tomb alone.
That I die a thousand deaths each time I am near enough to touch you.
Yet this is my means to an end...
...Because nothing can be resurrected if it isn't first lifeless.
So, I will endure these three cold, motionless days if it means that love lives here.
Monday, January 19, 2009
We've Come So Far...but Have So Far To Go
This picture was taken at around 1913.
Whites hung two Black men accused of raping a White female.
To them, justice was served.
This was 96 Years ago.
This picture was taken in 1981.
Only 28 years ago.
This boy, 19-year-old Michael Donald, was randomly picked out by Klansmen in Alabama.
The men were tried, convicted, and imprisoned. in 2005...24 YEARS later.
24 years. For lynching an innocent man.
And Post Civil-Rights, even.
I dare anyone to rest in the fact that we have, as a nation, "arrived".
I am not, by far, one of those people who exercise paranoia and weave conspiracy into my everyday routines. However, I feel that the majority of the problem is that people feel that we shouldn't take responsibility for what's going on, on our own soil. Our own land. People grow wary of mentioning race relations; claiming it to be an irrelevant issue. We've detached ourselves from the sins of our fathers. We apologize and feel that this is sufficient.
I am with you. Walking with you to move forward to a new sense of Unity. But, you nor I can ignore the deep-seeded pain that I still sometimes feel. Sometimes, it confuses and frustrates you...I know. I didn't experience any of it....but when I look at the pictures of Michael Donald...I feel hurt like you wouldn't imagine. Because I am like him. I am him. Had it been my town, and my street, and my face...I would have been hanging from that tree.And it could have been you behind that white sheet.
I think if we are to grow as a country, we should stand under the Glory of Almighty God and painfully stare at our own tendencies. Just fathom what has happened on our land since the first people set foot here...
It includes more than Columbus Day, Independence Day, and 9/11...
2 Chronicles 7:14
If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.
God Bless America.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Black + Exploitation
There are many double standards held in our society; rock hard like granite and so infused into our everyday lifestyles that amending or even addressing them would mean uprooting mindsets and destroying foundations. It is quite obvious that many of the existing double standards are based on race. This is a topic that I will never shy away from, no matter how much people feel it is no longer relevant, or overdone. [Side Note: I had a girl in one of my classes say that she is tired of people always making things about race. To which I softly replied, "Well. You may have been blessed to live a life where race was never an issue...but many others are not so privileged. Therefore, your job is not to complain about the pain of others, but be to compassionate and empathetic...even though you will never truly understand."]
So, if you are looking for a more reader-friendly blog, I suggest you close this browser window now.
I've been considering cinema's role in race relations today. Thanks to my recent viewing of Spike Lee's Bamboozled, it really got me thinking. It makes me angry when I think of how African-Americans were/are portrayed in the entertainment industry: greedy ignoramuses good only for the audience's amusement. The "abolishment" of slavery only ended one portion of the struggle. We were still seen as lesser. Illegitimate. Inhuman. So, way before King Jr. had a dream, Blacks longed for an existence where they were not only free, but human. Truly equal.
Traditional blackface is no longer practiced. However, I cannot help but consider how black cinema, affectionately known as "Blaxploitation", is now become counter-productive. [Side Note #2: You may say to me, "Please. It is NOT that serious." Of course not. Whites didn't think it was that serious, either. I think it's slightly ironic that only blacks are allowed to use racial humor...as if we somehow earned the right to be racist. Acts of hate cannot truly be avenged through retribution...but by repentance and education.]
Things are not as bad as they used to be overall...but the "Blaxploitation" film genre is currently doing more harm than good within the black community. Movies that uplift us; with black directors (i.e. Denzel Washington's Antwoin Fisher) gets more nods nationwide than within the black race. Meanwhile films like Pootie Tang and Next Friday can be quoted by my 10 year old nephew from memory. Our kids have no idea who Dorthea Dandridge or Reuben "The Hurricane" Carter is, but they will spend $11.50 to go see Get Rich or Die Tryin'.
There are some shows/movies that are social commentary (i.e. The Boondocks)...this is not what I mean. I am speaking of continual, explicit (or covert), and deliberate disrespect of our culture. Taking our struggles, history, and ambitions, and turning them into a formula to entertain the masses. I won't get into BET's role in demolishing the African American's dignity to the rest of the free world...but here are a list of films that you may remember that I'm putting on my "Banned List". Meaning I will NOT be promoting or keeping these films in my house...
1. Pootie Tang
2. Soul Plane
3. Hustle & Flow
4. Shaft (2000)
5. Booty Call
6. Woo
7. Two Can Play That Game
8. Superfly
9. How High
10. High School High
11. Juwanna Mann
12. The Cookout
13. The Wash
14. Scary Movie
15. Next Friday
16. The Friday After Next
(Note: The First Friday isn't up here because it isn't as exploitative as the other two.)
17. The Mack
18. B.A.P.S (Classic...but still all wrong.)
19. Bringing Down the House (I love Queen Latifah...but they still didn't address how she was disrespected throughout the WHOLE FILM.)
20. Big Momma's House (I already cringe at Tyler Perry playing Madea...but he is starting to cut back on readily playing that character in his movies.)
21. Norbit (It's funny...but it's racial pokes have no point. It's offensive just for the sake of being offensive.)
22. BeBe's Kids
23. Monster's Ball (It should NOT have taken THAT to get sis an Oscar...I'm sorry.)
...there are more...but I'll leave the list relatively short.
I am just sick and tired of being portrayed in a one-dimensional light on screen. There are things that I will smile and confirm...but I don't want that to become my sole source of identity.
If I had to pick the 5 Most Important Black Films, they would be:
1. Malcolm X
2. Higher Learning
3. Do The Right Thing
4. The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman
5. The Color Purple
So, if you are looking for a more reader-friendly blog, I suggest you close this browser window now.
I've been considering cinema's role in race relations today. Thanks to my recent viewing of Spike Lee's Bamboozled, it really got me thinking. It makes me angry when I think of how African-Americans were/are portrayed in the entertainment industry: greedy ignoramuses good only for the audience's amusement. The "abolishment" of slavery only ended one portion of the struggle. We were still seen as lesser. Illegitimate. Inhuman. So, way before King Jr. had a dream, Blacks longed for an existence where they were not only free, but human. Truly equal.
Traditional blackface is no longer practiced. However, I cannot help but consider how black cinema, affectionately known as "Blaxploitation", is now become counter-productive. [Side Note #2: You may say to me, "Please. It is NOT that serious." Of course not. Whites didn't think it was that serious, either. I think it's slightly ironic that only blacks are allowed to use racial humor...as if we somehow earned the right to be racist. Acts of hate cannot truly be avenged through retribution...but by repentance and education.]
Things are not as bad as they used to be overall...but the "Blaxploitation" film genre is currently doing more harm than good within the black community. Movies that uplift us; with black directors (i.e. Denzel Washington's Antwoin Fisher) gets more nods nationwide than within the black race. Meanwhile films like Pootie Tang and Next Friday can be quoted by my 10 year old nephew from memory. Our kids have no idea who Dorthea Dandridge or Reuben "The Hurricane" Carter is, but they will spend $11.50 to go see Get Rich or Die Tryin'.
There are some shows/movies that are social commentary (i.e. The Boondocks)...this is not what I mean. I am speaking of continual, explicit (or covert), and deliberate disrespect of our culture. Taking our struggles, history, and ambitions, and turning them into a formula to entertain the masses. I won't get into BET's role in demolishing the African American's dignity to the rest of the free world...but here are a list of films that you may remember that I'm putting on my "Banned List". Meaning I will NOT be promoting or keeping these films in my house...
1. Pootie Tang
2. Soul Plane
3. Hustle & Flow
4. Shaft (2000)
5. Booty Call
6. Woo
7. Two Can Play That Game
8. Superfly
9. How High
10. High School High
11. Juwanna Mann
12. The Cookout
13. The Wash
14. Scary Movie
15. Next Friday
16. The Friday After Next
(Note: The First Friday isn't up here because it isn't as exploitative as the other two.)
17. The Mack
18. B.A.P.S (Classic...but still all wrong.)
19. Bringing Down the House (I love Queen Latifah...but they still didn't address how she was disrespected throughout the WHOLE FILM.)
20. Big Momma's House (I already cringe at Tyler Perry playing Madea...but he is starting to cut back on readily playing that character in his movies.)
21. Norbit (It's funny...but it's racial pokes have no point. It's offensive just for the sake of being offensive.)
22. BeBe's Kids
23. Monster's Ball (It should NOT have taken THAT to get sis an Oscar...I'm sorry.)
...there are more...but I'll leave the list relatively short.
I am just sick and tired of being portrayed in a one-dimensional light on screen. There are things that I will smile and confirm...but I don't want that to become my sole source of identity.
If I had to pick the 5 Most Important Black Films, they would be:
1. Malcolm X
2. Higher Learning
3. Do The Right Thing
4. The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman
5. The Color Purple
Monday, December 29, 2008
2 Wrongs Don't Make a Mr. Right...
I am only 23 years old.
On top of being very young, I am not amongst the fleet of females who are in a desperate dash towards the alter. There are things I want to do & places I want to go before I become someone's wife. In this microwave-em society, I appreciate the art of taking things slowly...But personally, the underlying issue isn't about continuing to "look for" Mr. Right, because I thought I had solved that mystery.
He, is 21.
And unsure if I am "The One".
There lies the dilemma...because I am not so sure anymore, either.
He is my best friend and there is no one else on this planet that I would rather spend my time with than him. I haven't had this much fun in my life; the present is so bright. But, I can't keep shutting out the future & what this all means...
I think of the stress we've endured lately, and I wonder if it's a sign.
What are we working towards?
A lesson learned at the end of the day? A good story?
He doesn't know...never did.
...and I used to be so sure. From the very first day. I knew.
But, something else is speaking to me...
...and I have decided to listen.
Because I love him...more than I love my own happiness.
On top of being very young, I am not amongst the fleet of females who are in a desperate dash towards the alter. There are things I want to do & places I want to go before I become someone's wife. In this microwave-em society, I appreciate the art of taking things slowly...But personally, the underlying issue isn't about continuing to "look for" Mr. Right, because I thought I had solved that mystery.
He, is 21.
And unsure if I am "The One".
There lies the dilemma...because I am not so sure anymore, either.
He is my best friend and there is no one else on this planet that I would rather spend my time with than him. I haven't had this much fun in my life; the present is so bright. But, I can't keep shutting out the future & what this all means...
I think of the stress we've endured lately, and I wonder if it's a sign.
What are we working towards?
A lesson learned at the end of the day? A good story?
He doesn't know...never did.
...and I used to be so sure. From the very first day. I knew.
But, something else is speaking to me...
...and I have decided to listen.
Because I love him...more than I love my own happiness.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Fly.To.Tha.Tee. (Smile)
This goes out to all you fashionistas...I actually wanted to be a designer in middle school. If you ever find yourselves in SC...look me up. Maybe we could look at some of my sketches over a nice pot of earl grey.
...kidding.
But, I do hate fashion conformity. Or apathy. I want to punch a baby (thanks Dane Cook) whenever I pass by a girl who looks like she got dressed in the dark. Call me materialistic. Or shallow. But, I'm one of the rare people who see fashion as an opportunity to make art. Walking art.
...bet you didn't know THAT about Spoken.Word, huh? Hey. It's almost 2009.
Thanks to Miss Stefanie for guiding me towards this cool website. Here's a pallet that I created myself...enjoy!
A Day in Paris by iamspokenword
...kidding.
But, I do hate fashion conformity. Or apathy. I want to punch a baby (thanks Dane Cook) whenever I pass by a girl who looks like she got dressed in the dark. Call me materialistic. Or shallow. But, I'm one of the rare people who see fashion as an opportunity to make art. Walking art.
...bet you didn't know THAT about Spoken.Word, huh? Hey. It's almost 2009.
Thanks to Miss Stefanie for guiding me towards this cool website. Here's a pallet that I created myself...enjoy!
A Day in Paris by iamspokenword
Confessions&Admissions (Smile)
I scooped this from Ms.Londondiva and I thought it was a great idea...snatch it if you want. [Enjoy.]
10 Things you wish you could say to ten different people:
1. Leave me alone...please.
2. You are NOT that cute sis...please save what little you have left of your dignity and sit down sumwhere...
3. Calm down...I am over you.
4. I trust my man, but I don't know you. I'm not the jealous type...but don't give me a reason.
5. I would leave everything and everyone behind for you. So let's do it...RIGHT NOW.
6. I'm sorry, but I honestly don't like you all that much.
7. ________ really hurt my feelings...and I don't trust you like I used to.
8. I don't want to move back home after graduation.
9. For all we do...you don't pay us enough.
10. You make me feel like crap.
9 Things about yourself:
1. I like to bake.
2. I am a fashion fiend with no money...ironic combination.
3. I want to write for the rest of my life.
4. I can sing. Quite well, actually.
5. I'm madly in love with a man that I want to be my husband but scared to death that he isn't.
6. I like computers & gadgety things...
7. I love to sleep.
8. I don't procrastinate, actually...I just hate deadlines or being rushed. So, I guess I'm slow-paced out of spite.
9. Jesus is my everything.
8 Ways to win my heart:
1. Have an deep appreciation/gift for writing.
2. Love God genuinely...lacking the stiff, religious ora.
3. Pay attention.
4. Be random.
5. Despise too many borders/boundaries.
6. No hidden motives.
7. Don't shy away from pictures.
8. Talk with conviction.
7 Things that cross my mind a lot:
1. Nicholas
2. A scripture that I recently read.
3. My plans for the next year.
4. My unborn children.
5. My latest mini-crisis.
6. Music lyrics/melody
7. Current poem topic I'm musing about
6 Things I do before I go to sleep:
1. Shower/bathe.
2. Eat a snack.
3. Wrap/comb/brush my hair
4. Pick out outfit for next day.
5. Talk to Nicholas on the phone/text him.
6. Pray
5 People I couldn’t live without:
(Keeping God as a given because He's the only one that I could NOT live without.)
1. My mom
2. My step-dad
3. My Nicholas...ha..I mean, Nicholas.
4. My Papa
5. (Interchangeable spot) My roommate Jess currently has this spot.
4 Things I am wearing right now:
1. Black spaghetti-strapped shirt
2. Short-shorts.
3. Slippers
4. An embarrassed look.
3 Songs that fit my life perfectly(right now):
1. "Get Up" by Mary Mary
2. "1st & Love" by Brandy
3. "Lessons Learned" by Carrie Underwood
2 Things I want to do before I die:
1. Publish at least 5 books...with at least 1 of them a best-seller.
2. Be a mother.
1 Confession:
I don't want to go any further. I have met "the One". His presence in my life is one of the few things that I am absolutely content/happy about.
10 Things you wish you could say to ten different people:
1. Leave me alone...please.
2. You are NOT that cute sis...please save what little you have left of your dignity and sit down sumwhere...
3. Calm down...I am over you.
4. I trust my man, but I don't know you. I'm not the jealous type...but don't give me a reason.
5. I would leave everything and everyone behind for you. So let's do it...RIGHT NOW.
6. I'm sorry, but I honestly don't like you all that much.
7. ________ really hurt my feelings...and I don't trust you like I used to.
8. I don't want to move back home after graduation.
9. For all we do...you don't pay us enough.
10. You make me feel like crap.
9 Things about yourself:
1. I like to bake.
2. I am a fashion fiend with no money...ironic combination.
3. I want to write for the rest of my life.
4. I can sing. Quite well, actually.
5. I'm madly in love with a man that I want to be my husband but scared to death that he isn't.
6. I like computers & gadgety things...
7. I love to sleep.
8. I don't procrastinate, actually...I just hate deadlines or being rushed. So, I guess I'm slow-paced out of spite.
9. Jesus is my everything.
8 Ways to win my heart:
1. Have an deep appreciation/gift for writing.
2. Love God genuinely...lacking the stiff, religious ora.
3. Pay attention.
4. Be random.
5. Despise too many borders/boundaries.
6. No hidden motives.
7. Don't shy away from pictures.
8. Talk with conviction.
7 Things that cross my mind a lot:
1. Nicholas
2. A scripture that I recently read.
3. My plans for the next year.
4. My unborn children.
5. My latest mini-crisis.
6. Music lyrics/melody
7. Current poem topic I'm musing about
6 Things I do before I go to sleep:
1. Shower/bathe.
2. Eat a snack.
3. Wrap/comb/brush my hair
4. Pick out outfit for next day.
5. Talk to Nicholas on the phone/text him.
6. Pray
5 People I couldn’t live without:
(Keeping God as a given because He's the only one that I could NOT live without.)
1. My mom
2. My step-dad
3. My Nicholas...ha..I mean, Nicholas.
4. My Papa
5. (Interchangeable spot) My roommate Jess currently has this spot.
4 Things I am wearing right now:
1. Black spaghetti-strapped shirt
2. Short-shorts.
3. Slippers
4. An embarrassed look.
3 Songs that fit my life perfectly(right now):
1. "Get Up" by Mary Mary
2. "1st & Love" by Brandy
3. "Lessons Learned" by Carrie Underwood
2 Things I want to do before I die:
1. Publish at least 5 books...with at least 1 of them a best-seller.
2. Be a mother.
1 Confession:
I don't want to go any further. I have met "the One". His presence in my life is one of the few things that I am absolutely content/happy about.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
This Is 2008....and I'm Out!!! ;0)
So. I got this list of questions from a friend who it got it from a friend...so I wouldn't dare claim authorship. Here we go...Happy Holidays folks. God bless.
1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?
I got the Keys to the Campus..as a Resident Assistant for a dormitory floor. Which opened the door to a whole bunch of great fun/randomness. Before that...I was an Office Girl at a Inner-city kids camp (traveling further west than I ever had).
2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I remember resolving to be braver. And though its been a fight...I have been. Next year...I'm kicking it up a notch.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yep. Friends @ home.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Thankfully, no.
5. What countries did you visit?
::Kicks a pepple:: None, regretably.
6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
A degree and an apartment (possibly).
7. What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
My last night off while at Kamp. It was the night I realized that my man truly has my back. Oh and September 13th...the day my baby took me to celebrate my birthday. That was one of the best dates I've ever had.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Surving RA responsibilites, maintaning an A/B grade average with 18 credit hours, having an active social life, and taking care of my man ALL AT THE SAME TIME.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Not taking enough time for myself.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I've had many, many headaches. But I havent' been seriously sick all year. Thank God.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
My laptop!
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My freshman girls living on the hall...they went through a lot and did so well.
And my baby, Nick. He took some major ego shots this year and maintained his kind heart.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Mmm. My school peers throughout the election.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Food. And my laptop.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Traveling so much & having the money to do it. I went to New Jersey, New York, and Missouri.
16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
"Get Up" by Mary Mary
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
- i. happier or sadder? happier...definitely.
- ii. thinner or fatter? thinner.
- iii. richer or poorer? shoot...richer.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
smiling and letting go.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
being defensive.
20. Did you fall in love in 2008?
over and over again...but with the same person. And deeper.
21. How many one-night stands?
0.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
The Office, Seinfeld, and Family Guy still has the top spots (Thanks Hulu.com)
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
The Devil is STILL a stupid liar...
24. What was the best book you read?
Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. That book changed my life.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I got into Folk/Pop more this year....Ingrid Michaelson, KT Tunstall, Sara Bareilles, Colbie Caillat.
Two words: Michael Buble.
And the return of my girl, Brandy. That album is underrated to me.
26. What did you want and get?
Love, lessons, and friends.
27. What did you want and not get?
Straight A's.
28. What were your favorite films of this year?
Kung-Fu Panda, Seven Pounds, Dark Knight
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
At midnight my hall stormed into my room (at once) and sprayed me with silly string. They sang to me and gave me a crown that had lights on the front. Then we had cake while I did curfew checks...lol. Later on that day, I went to class, got a surprise in class from my baby, but had a miny breakdown because he couldn't hang out. :0) Happy 23 to me!!
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More money in my pocket to do more.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Soft-core Bohemian mixed with a bit of Preppy.
32. What kept you sane?
My Bible, music, my RA partner/roommate, and my baby
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Still in the running...Will Smith.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Faith's place in legislation.
35. Whom did you miss?
My circle of friends from back home and my baby.
36. Who was the best new person(s) you met?
People @ KAA & the entire dorm of 28-2.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
"Anything worth having is worth fighting for."
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"And every tear that had to fall from my eyes,
And everyday I wondered how I'd get through the night,
Every change, life has thrown me,
I'm thankful, for every break in my heart,
I'm grateful, for every scar,
Some pages turned,
Some bridges burned,
But there were lessons learned."
You'll never guess who this is from.....
....yep. Carrie Underwood. :0)
1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?
I got the Keys to the Campus..as a Resident Assistant for a dormitory floor. Which opened the door to a whole bunch of great fun/randomness. Before that...I was an Office Girl at a Inner-city kids camp (traveling further west than I ever had).
2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I remember resolving to be braver. And though its been a fight...I have been. Next year...I'm kicking it up a notch.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yep. Friends @ home.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Thankfully, no.
5. What countries did you visit?
::Kicks a pepple:: None, regretably.
6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
A degree and an apartment (possibly).
7. What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
My last night off while at Kamp. It was the night I realized that my man truly has my back. Oh and September 13th...the day my baby took me to celebrate my birthday. That was one of the best dates I've ever had.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Surving RA responsibilites, maintaning an A/B grade average with 18 credit hours, having an active social life, and taking care of my man ALL AT THE SAME TIME.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Not taking enough time for myself.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I've had many, many headaches. But I havent' been seriously sick all year. Thank God.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
My laptop!
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My freshman girls living on the hall...they went through a lot and did so well.
And my baby, Nick. He took some major ego shots this year and maintained his kind heart.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Mmm. My school peers throughout the election.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Food. And my laptop.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Traveling so much & having the money to do it. I went to New Jersey, New York, and Missouri.
16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
"Get Up" by Mary Mary
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
- i. happier or sadder? happier...definitely.
- ii. thinner or fatter? thinner.
- iii. richer or poorer? shoot...richer.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
smiling and letting go.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
being defensive.
20. Did you fall in love in 2008?
over and over again...but with the same person. And deeper.
21. How many one-night stands?
0.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
The Office, Seinfeld, and Family Guy still has the top spots (Thanks Hulu.com)
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
The Devil is STILL a stupid liar...
24. What was the best book you read?
Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. That book changed my life.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I got into Folk/Pop more this year....Ingrid Michaelson, KT Tunstall, Sara Bareilles, Colbie Caillat.
Two words: Michael Buble.
And the return of my girl, Brandy. That album is underrated to me.
26. What did you want and get?
Love, lessons, and friends.
27. What did you want and not get?
Straight A's.
28. What were your favorite films of this year?
Kung-Fu Panda, Seven Pounds, Dark Knight
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
At midnight my hall stormed into my room (at once) and sprayed me with silly string. They sang to me and gave me a crown that had lights on the front. Then we had cake while I did curfew checks...lol. Later on that day, I went to class, got a surprise in class from my baby, but had a miny breakdown because he couldn't hang out. :0) Happy 23 to me!!
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More money in my pocket to do more.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Soft-core Bohemian mixed with a bit of Preppy.
32. What kept you sane?
My Bible, music, my RA partner/roommate, and my baby
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Still in the running...Will Smith.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Faith's place in legislation.
35. Whom did you miss?
My circle of friends from back home and my baby.
36. Who was the best new person(s) you met?
People @ KAA & the entire dorm of 28-2.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
"Anything worth having is worth fighting for."
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"And every tear that had to fall from my eyes,
And everyday I wondered how I'd get through the night,
Every change, life has thrown me,
I'm thankful, for every break in my heart,
I'm grateful, for every scar,
Some pages turned,
Some bridges burned,
But there were lessons learned."
You'll never guess who this is from.....
....yep. Carrie Underwood. :0)
Saturday, December 20, 2008
His Size 12's in My Shoes...
I wish men could be women for...one. day.
The only way that they can truly understand our compassionate, complicated, sometimes tragic existance is to BE us. Not just experience the prejudiced system built around us, but also the firey battles that occur inside of us. I get that Men have a whole slew of warfare to face as well....so, I am inclined to look at the opposite sex with understanding.
However, I am frustrated at how often I am reminded that they lack understanding. Let me simply state that I seek to be a woman after God's heart. I want to remembered for my heart after Him. My kindness towards others. I want to leave an imprint on the people that knew me. These are the things MOST important to me...
..but I want a man to understand that my physical body is worth more than an occasional nod. I want him to appreciate and honor the temple God placed me in. He could have choosen for me to be any other race, or height, or build...with different eyes and a different mouth.
But He didn't. I look like me.
And I while I feel like beauty is in the eye of the beholder most of the time...I want my man to indulge in the beauty God invested in me. I don't want him to "tolerate" my looks just because he enjoys my mind/heart.
I'm not fishing for a compliment. Self-image has been an issue that I have battled with for most of my life, and I finally feel like I am gaining an advantage. So, those closest to me should not enable me in my weakness. I want to be (as the title of the book states) Captivating.
Men: do not tolerate our existance. Every hair on our head was destined.
Women are the climax of creation. God made sure that everything was in place before he made us. And the best part about that is that God wanted to take us out of the very BEST of His creation: Man. Meaning...we are a part of you. So don't treat us like we are from Venus. We were both created in His image...Cherish me like you would your own body.
Walk a little while in my shoes, and realize that beauty takes precedence over comfort most of the time.
The only way that they can truly understand our compassionate, complicated, sometimes tragic existance is to BE us. Not just experience the prejudiced system built around us, but also the firey battles that occur inside of us. I get that Men have a whole slew of warfare to face as well....so, I am inclined to look at the opposite sex with understanding.
However, I am frustrated at how often I am reminded that they lack understanding. Let me simply state that I seek to be a woman after God's heart. I want to remembered for my heart after Him. My kindness towards others. I want to leave an imprint on the people that knew me. These are the things MOST important to me...
..but I want a man to understand that my physical body is worth more than an occasional nod. I want him to appreciate and honor the temple God placed me in. He could have choosen for me to be any other race, or height, or build...with different eyes and a different mouth.
But He didn't. I look like me.
And I while I feel like beauty is in the eye of the beholder most of the time...I want my man to indulge in the beauty God invested in me. I don't want him to "tolerate" my looks just because he enjoys my mind/heart.
I'm not fishing for a compliment. Self-image has been an issue that I have battled with for most of my life, and I finally feel like I am gaining an advantage. So, those closest to me should not enable me in my weakness. I want to be (as the title of the book states) Captivating.
Men: do not tolerate our existance. Every hair on our head was destined.
Women are the climax of creation. God made sure that everything was in place before he made us. And the best part about that is that God wanted to take us out of the very BEST of His creation: Man. Meaning...we are a part of you. So don't treat us like we are from Venus. We were both created in His image...Cherish me like you would your own body.
Walk a little while in my shoes, and realize that beauty takes precedence over comfort most of the time.
A Stranger in My Parent's House
“I am my mother’s daughter.”
This is the statement that I would most likely use when asked to describe myself. I took joy in always being referred collectively with my family. In being known by my last, and not my first, name. I naturally adopted my family’s principles and their characteristics. Their mannerisms are slowly starting to show on my face. But instead of smiling slightly while connecting the dots…I frown. It isn’t that my family is extraordinarily dysfunctional or that I would openly deny my blood-laced ties to them….but…
…I am not a little girl anymore. Looking into the mirror I see my mother’s high cheeks and nose; my father’s full lips and chin…and the eyes of a pleasant stranger... Who is this woman?
Currently, I am growing fonder of the idea of a life out on my own. Establishing a peace of mind that is significantly unique. Distinct and God-given directly to me. My parents throw themselves at me when I am home from school during vacation, but are rarely interested in the evolving young woman who meets them at the door.
“I know you too well, girl.” My mother says. Our constant arguments should only reveal to her how limited her knowledge of me is…She knows me. She made me. She loves me. But…she does not know me.
Granted, there are ways about me that are central, and will not change drastically. But, everyday that I spend with myself is a day that I learn something new. I have interests and pursuits that have recently been awakened that she doesn’t understand.
My love for jazz & my desire to travel. It was only a few years ago that I only loved R&B and was a homebody. Quite the contrast, right?
My mother has my past. And will, forever and always…
But my present is building and my future is vast and wide-open. Above/around me is a God who alone is omniscient (all-knowing). My parents are responsible for the person that I am today. They were entrusted with the great task of teaching me foundational truths. Truth concerning God. Truth concerning Love. Truth concerning right and wrong. How to treat people. Manners. Keeping your word. Putting others first…and above all…God. Standing up for what is noble and pure. Speaking up AND holding your tongue (having the wisdom to know when each is appropriate).
They have taught me these things. Therefore, I owe them so much. According to God, I owe them my honor. How? Through how I live my life. Will I continue in the things that they have taught me? I intend to…with all my might.
But that is simply the foundation. What is built on top of that is of God’s (my) choosing. And I must have faith in God and courage within myself to build. And this house…will look unlike anything that my family has seen in their lifetimes combined. Or I.
It has to be different….There has to be more….
Sunday, December 7, 2008
The True Meaning of Christmas.
There is a lot of aspects about the holiday season that I despise. And there are parts that I look forward to every year. But, the thing that saddens me the most isn't that we've replaced a Newborn Christ with a fictional Santa Claus, it's that those who know the true significance of the holiday make no room for Him. We say the same thing that the dozens of innkeepers said to His parents that same night: "There's no room in the inn." We stuff the Savior of the world into a stuffy, dirty barn filled with smelly animals. We think the King of the Universe isn't precious enough to have the best. Instead of being born and placed in royal linens and given the treatment of a King, we afford Him only a used feeding trough and a soiled cloth. Doesn't He deserve more. Doesn't he deserve our best? For who He is alone, doesn't he deserve the Palace of our heart...and not the barn?
As you celebrate this holiday season, with all of its glitter and chaos...make sure that Jesus is at the center of it all. This holiday, like all holidays are to commemorate something important...Christmas is about Christ. Let us be thankful that although He came through humble means...He DID COME. For one purpose: to save Mankind. Remember this, and let it permeate our hearts throughout this season and into the new year.
Happy & Blessed Holidays to you and yours...
Enjoy reading one of my favorite Christmas carols...
O come, O come, Emmanuel
As you celebrate this holiday season, with all of its glitter and chaos...make sure that Jesus is at the center of it all. This holiday, like all holidays are to commemorate something important...Christmas is about Christ. Let us be thankful that although He came through humble means...He DID COME. For one purpose: to save Mankind. Remember this, and let it permeate our hearts throughout this season and into the new year.
Happy & Blessed Holidays to you and yours...
Enjoy reading one of my favorite Christmas carols...
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Only.Me.For Him.
Periodically I look at a picture of myself (like the one above, for example) and I ask the question: Who is this girl....really?Question of the decade. Haha.
There were times where it drew blank stares. Grimaces. And sarcastic laughs.
If I were to ask those closest to me...they would give only a resume of my talents.
Others: a long list of likes, dislikes, and moods.
I dare no one would come closer to the truth than my mother...
...but even SHE would miss the essence by a mile.
No one spends more time with me...than me...so how is it that I've spent most of my lifetime stumped by this question?
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. "~Oscar Wilde, De Profundis, 1905
I haven't been living a lie. More so I have been chasing one.
Absorbing the light of others and ignoring the steady flicker placed inside of my own soul.
Believing that if I impacted enough lives and spoke the right words that God would give me the acceptance that He has already offered. And promised.
Somewhere in the shuffle of the crowd I let go of His hand. So I tugged on endless shirttails asking, "Have you seen my Daddy?" Surely these nice people could help me find Him. But, the sounds of their directions/questions drowned out the voice of my Father calling for me. In losing Him, I lost me. But, it is thrilling how crystal clear my [true and redeemed] heart is when it has the light of His Glory shining on it...
1. I sing at the top of my lungs; getting lost in the melody and emotion. Carefree and joyous. A true lover of music.
2. I write from the depths of my soul. In whatever form it happens to flow into. Not for acclaim. And never for approval. Content takes precedence over grammar.
3. I am two opposites joined. Yin and Yang within myself. A more envious form of Bipolar. A healthier version of a Manic-Depressive. I am noisy and I am silence. I am serious and I am humorous. I am introverted and I am bold. I am cautious and I am fearless. Tender and Intense. I am high-top converse's and I am high heels. I am pink ribbons and black nail polish.
4. I believe in Truth. And Beauty. And Love. And I will guard them ferociously.
5. I am the Apple of My Father God's eye. He gave His life for me, and I owe Him my everything. His sacrifice tells me that I am special to Him.
6.. I am still learning. The color on my wings growing more vivacious, the smile on my face increasing in mystery. Look into my eyes and see that I've got a secret.
Now...look at that picture again...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Gossip.
A very disheartening fact about Americans is that we crave drama.
More specifically: Young Americans.
We aren't satisfied unless we are rallying for, protesting against, or stirring up some sort of meaningless, yet personally significant episode. And I am amazed at how easily things "pop off".
Whether it be through a phone call or the infamous Facebook note/wall post/posted item, we have a sick fetish towards disagreement. Point blank, Americans, and human beings for that matter, are not naturally prone towards harmony.
In fact, I gather that whenever possible, we would rather divide. Especially against our own kind. We seek to specify a new club or denomination or ideal to suit our tendency to follow fads. And not for real change, mind you. Simply to be disagreeable.
Confused? Let me explain...
There is one race, theoretically: the Human Race.
Because of environmental/genetic factors, skin shades differentiated and with a hearty cue from society and the Tower of Babel...races/languages were made. Because of envy and greed (not to mention population surges), there wasn't enough room for humans to live in one place, so they sought to find other land. It became a competition and a source for war and carnage.
A culture became established by the amount of land that they ruled over.
Fast forward century's upon century's later, and a group of guys on a ship called the Mayflower decide to "bargain" this huge continent off of some natives. As more and more various people groups migrate (whether by choice or by force) to America, the more categorized America became. As the US grew older, diversity flourished. But racism and prejudice grew, also. We are no longer known by just our skin color. We have shade discrepancies between races (i.e. African Americans). There are socioeconomic divides. There are social divides. Political divisions.
While these categories are supposed to provide uniqueness and choice for Americans, they actually give us more reasons to dislike each other.
Getting back to my point: Disharmony. It is in our nature. We have a tendency to complain, and not just simply change and evolve. Chaos is the best way to get our attention. Maybe that's why God allows the world to be like it is...Maybe it's why He doesn't intervene in most cases. We look for Him more often in times of darkness, right? But I'm getting off track again.
I believe if Disharmony had a mode of transportation, it would be Gossip. Take inventory, if you will, at the minutes we spend on the phone with friends/loved ones. The large majority of those minutes are spent gossiping. I don't mean giving information with the sole intent to inform...I mean an exchange of dialogue that seeks to draw one's own personal conclusions about a matter.
Idle talk, basically.
Discussing other people, meanwhile tearing them down, speaking of people in a manner that requires a defense. Holding a verbal trial and simultaneously declaring them guilty.
It is meaningless and is, 90% of the time, false. It's false because it is usually a regurgitation of previously passed down information. And just like regurgitated food loses the original amount of nutrients, gossip lacks the complete knowledge of a situation.
And we are so hypocritical. We will be quick to defend our privacy but freely discuss the circumstances and character of other people. Anyone who has been the victim of a vicious rumor knows that it is quite difficult to bounce back from it.
The saddest thing is though (going back to my original thought), most of us fall into gossip by listening to it, and not spreading it. Its easier to listen to gossip than it is to spread it. Why do we sit and listen to it?? Because a part of us likes that someone else is having a hard time. Mostly because it takes our minds (not to mention the minds of others) off our own mistakes. We can finally take the righteous role! [And man...does it ever feel good.] In rare instances are we hurt by hearing gossip. Nevertheless, we enjoy the shock. And we rejoice in it.
"Love doesn't not rejoice in evil..but rejoices in the truth."
We don't know the first thing about love...
That's why gossip is so lethal. Because it is enticing.
So beware. And keep your mouth shut for a change.
More specifically: Young Americans.
We aren't satisfied unless we are rallying for, protesting against, or stirring up some sort of meaningless, yet personally significant episode. And I am amazed at how easily things "pop off".
Whether it be through a phone call or the infamous Facebook note/wall post/posted item, we have a sick fetish towards disagreement. Point blank, Americans, and human beings for that matter, are not naturally prone towards harmony.
In fact, I gather that whenever possible, we would rather divide. Especially against our own kind. We seek to specify a new club or denomination or ideal to suit our tendency to follow fads. And not for real change, mind you. Simply to be disagreeable.
Confused? Let me explain...
There is one race, theoretically: the Human Race.
Because of environmental/genetic factors, skin shades differentiated and with a hearty cue from society and the Tower of Babel...races/languages were made. Because of envy and greed (not to mention population surges), there wasn't enough room for humans to live in one place, so they sought to find other land. It became a competition and a source for war and carnage.
A culture became established by the amount of land that they ruled over.
Fast forward century's upon century's later, and a group of guys on a ship called the Mayflower decide to "bargain" this huge continent off of some natives. As more and more various people groups migrate (whether by choice or by force) to America, the more categorized America became. As the US grew older, diversity flourished. But racism and prejudice grew, also. We are no longer known by just our skin color. We have shade discrepancies between races (i.e. African Americans). There are socioeconomic divides. There are social divides. Political divisions.
While these categories are supposed to provide uniqueness and choice for Americans, they actually give us more reasons to dislike each other.
Getting back to my point: Disharmony. It is in our nature. We have a tendency to complain, and not just simply change and evolve. Chaos is the best way to get our attention. Maybe that's why God allows the world to be like it is...Maybe it's why He doesn't intervene in most cases. We look for Him more often in times of darkness, right? But I'm getting off track again.
I believe if Disharmony had a mode of transportation, it would be Gossip. Take inventory, if you will, at the minutes we spend on the phone with friends/loved ones. The large majority of those minutes are spent gossiping. I don't mean giving information with the sole intent to inform...I mean an exchange of dialogue that seeks to draw one's own personal conclusions about a matter.
Idle talk, basically.
Discussing other people, meanwhile tearing them down, speaking of people in a manner that requires a defense. Holding a verbal trial and simultaneously declaring them guilty.
It is meaningless and is, 90% of the time, false. It's false because it is usually a regurgitation of previously passed down information. And just like regurgitated food loses the original amount of nutrients, gossip lacks the complete knowledge of a situation.
And we are so hypocritical. We will be quick to defend our privacy but freely discuss the circumstances and character of other people. Anyone who has been the victim of a vicious rumor knows that it is quite difficult to bounce back from it.
The saddest thing is though (going back to my original thought), most of us fall into gossip by listening to it, and not spreading it. Its easier to listen to gossip than it is to spread it. Why do we sit and listen to it?? Because a part of us likes that someone else is having a hard time. Mostly because it takes our minds (not to mention the minds of others) off our own mistakes. We can finally take the righteous role! [And man...does it ever feel good.] In rare instances are we hurt by hearing gossip. Nevertheless, we enjoy the shock. And we rejoice in it.
"Love doesn't not rejoice in evil..but rejoices in the truth."
We don't know the first thing about love...
That's why gossip is so lethal. Because it is enticing.
So beware. And keep your mouth shut for a change.
Proverbs 17:28
Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent,
and discerning if he holds his tongue.
and discerning if he holds his tongue.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Gossip. (Prolouge)
How, I despise it so.
Proverbs 16:28 - A perverse man stirs up dissension, and a gossip separates close friends.
It is the acid that erodes any tight unit. It is the tactic of any wise enemy.
Proverbs 16:28 - A perverse man stirs up dissension, and a gossip separates close friends.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Giving.Up.
At some point last night...I snapped.
I don't want to do it anymore.
Even after a recent 2 1/2 day break from classes...I, for the first time this semester,
want to give up. I am just plain tired.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Tired of staring eyes. Tired of haughty, hard-headed, disrespectful Freshman.
Tired of a million things on my daily to-do list.
Tired of seeing my roommate go to bed after 2 am because she has no choice.
[I am tired for her.]
Tired of always having to be all things to all men.
Advocate.
Counselor.
Friend.
Disciplinarian.
Coach.
Shepherd.
Student.
Girlfriend.
Daughter.
Adult.
Woman.
Black.
Tired of always being expected to rise above it all.
Being the bigger person.
Turning the other cheek.
Tired of seeing my love struggle...
...watching him hang on to a small strand of hope.
Sometimes I don't know how he manages to hang on.
[Today, he threw down his pencil in disgust and said, "I give up."
I'm tired of acting like that doesn't hurt me in some strange way.]
Tired of seeing young, educated black students
act like they are untouchable.
As if they aren't one second away from poverty, or illegitimacy.
I am tired of shallow Faith and being forced into unfulfilling worship.
Sick of being patient for revival.
I'm tired of loud cliques and lonely faces.
Tired of gossip and slander.
Tired of fake smiles and those who act like they respect you.
I am tired of praying for strength...I just simply want to Be.
I wish to just spend my days in gratitude...but these weak hands and feeble knees distract me.
::Sigh::
I give up.
Completely, this time.
God? Do you hear me??!!
...I give up.
Now please...do it through me.
Psalm 127:1
Unless the Lord builds the house,
they labor in vain who build it;
Unless the Lord guards the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.
I don't want to do it anymore.
Even after a recent 2 1/2 day break from classes...I, for the first time this semester,
want to give up. I am just plain tired.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Tired of staring eyes. Tired of haughty, hard-headed, disrespectful Freshman.
Tired of a million things on my daily to-do list.
Tired of seeing my roommate go to bed after 2 am because she has no choice.
[I am tired for her.]
Tired of always having to be all things to all men.
Advocate.
Counselor.
Friend.
Disciplinarian.
Coach.
Shepherd.
Student.
Girlfriend.
Daughter.
Adult.
Woman.
Black.
Tired of always being expected to rise above it all.
Being the bigger person.
Turning the other cheek.
Tired of seeing my love struggle...
...watching him hang on to a small strand of hope.
Sometimes I don't know how he manages to hang on.
[Today, he threw down his pencil in disgust and said, "I give up."
I'm tired of acting like that doesn't hurt me in some strange way.]
Tired of seeing young, educated black students
act like they are untouchable.
As if they aren't one second away from poverty, or illegitimacy.
I am tired of shallow Faith and being forced into unfulfilling worship.
Sick of being patient for revival.
I'm tired of loud cliques and lonely faces.
Tired of gossip and slander.
Tired of fake smiles and those who act like they respect you.
I am tired of praying for strength...I just simply want to Be.
I wish to just spend my days in gratitude...but these weak hands and feeble knees distract me.
::Sigh::
I give up.
Completely, this time.
God? Do you hear me??!!
...I give up.
Now please...do it through me.
Psalm 127:1
Unless the Lord builds the house,
they labor in vain who build it;
Unless the Lord guards the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Black.Face.
They call us idiots.
Loud, disrespectful, and unintelligent.
Lazy, greedy, and unambitious.
Thieves with large, plump lips that greedily scarf down watermelon and fried chicken.
Who's sole purpose is to entertain and to be obedient.
We are only allowed to sing or dance...and then clean up after the show is done.
We have thick, flattering shapes to be used and abused whenever.
Our nature is not beautiful. Our culture is not sacred.
It is the butt of every joke. The punchline of every satire.
The source of their amusement.
...I am told to let it go...
Because Blackface no longer exists.
So tell me, when a white girl looks at me, smiles, and says "Whaddup, dog?" How am I supposed to feel?
When I see pictures like THIS....does my frustration ease?
When films like "Soul Plane", "Pooty Tang", and "Booty Call" become the most popular (and loudest) tributes to the Black culture in America...someone tell me
How the heck am I supposed to feel?
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Mirrors of Privilege: Making Whiteness Visible
Watch.
Let it touch you deeper than it normally would.
Comment.
Discuss.
And THEN....do something.
B Blessed.
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