A New Lease On Life

I wrote this a couple of months back when I was bedridden. I rather experience 10,000 heartbreaks than lie in bed wondering if I will ever see Christmas as I once did.

During this time I learned what true friendship and family meant. As I layed there in thought, misery, and shame they ensured I never felt lonely. True friendship and family are relentless and unwavering in their pursuit to adore and love you. They smother you with love, they do not care if you want it or not. They do not leave you alone even if you want to be left alone. Sometimes in your lowest points you want to be miserable, but they stop you right there and interject themselves. And you know what – it works!

Without them I would be nothing. Without them…without them…without them…I could not breath.

 

 *A New Lease On Life*

~Gahhh!  It was a month from Hell. A month I never want to relive or re-visit. My energy was stolen. My hope was diminished. My body was slain. And my faith began to fade. Only through one eye was I able to see the world, which at this point slowly began distancing itself from me. Life began to seem whimsical and faity-tailish. But I knew it was upon me. Before I fell into darkness I patiently waited for its arrival. I met the mornings by peering through the blinds to ensure the porch was free of shadows. The evenings were a blaze of screeching tires and horns to escape cold fingers. And the nights consisted of locked doors and bodily shivers under covers at the tinge of any sound.

 

Finally, fatigue introduced itself first. Headache swiftly came next. And Irritation was the last to sit down…or so I thought. Unbeknown to me, my guests invited guests. They arrived later, opened the fridge without asking and ate strength, dignity, and my future. I cannot tell a lie and say they did not bring gifts because they did. After stripping my table of its beauty they laid another kind of setting, a Brothers Grimm inspired setting. Forks of shame, napkins of tears, cups of solitude, gravy of regret, a turkey filled with isolation, and of course my favorite a freshly baked bread of annihilated dreams.  

 

The end was closing in on me and inadvertently my family. All I could think of was shame. In my mind I was battling the lesser of two evils. If given the option I would have chosen pain over shame. And if you knew my options neither of them would be anything you would want to pull out of a hat.

 

How could I have let the madness inside me drive me to this point? I was reckless in my actions, heartless in my endeavors, and ruthless in my delusional conquest. I wanted to prove a point to a person who was not even listening. I wanted to show myself a good time knowing damn well it could never amount to happiness and true revenge. My face bubbled in fury. The sin that lived within surfaced and showed its face.  It itself wanted to be free, wanted air to breath. It became tired of being overlooked and fed scraps. ~

 

It is time the Broken Hearted Reclaim Their Lives.

Advertisements

Blackbird (A New Movie Coming out!!!) This movie will shake homes and saves lives!

If you watched this trailer and did not shake, if you watched this trailer and did not tremble, if you watched this trailer and did not feel confliction, admiration or love, then I suggest you watch it again. I am not sure if my mind has even finished digesting the power that was in this short clip. Black people talking about black people. No, black people talking about black gays. Wait, an all black cast in the south making a movie about a black gay boy learning about his sexuality.

Blackbird is a remarkable story about at a 17-year-old (Randy) black high school student living in a religiously small knit community in Mississippi learning about his sexuality and dealing with peculiar visions. Not only is Randy struggling to understand his new found urges, but he is the star of his church’s choir and son of both Isaiah Washington (Lance) and Mo’Nique (Claire). Washington plays as Randy’s estranged father who learns of his sons “indecency” and returns to help him transition into the role of a black man. While Mo’Nique falls upon Randy’s secret and blames him for the disappearance of his little sister.

If this has not convinced you that this is a must-see movie then let’s try adding them all up; the plight of emotions and drama of teenagers in high school (something we all can agree upon), a single mother who lost her daughter, an estranged father returning, the religious south, and a boy who lost his sister, has the gift of premonitions, and the difficulties of navigating the terms of his sexuality in a society where he cannot speak of such thoughts and emotions.

I cannot wait for this movie to come out. It is about time we see a movie in mainstream cinema where esteemed black actors take on the story of black sexuality. Blackbird is more than gay, Blackbird is more than black, Blackbird is more than sexuality, Blackbird is a universal story.

I Want to Unclothe You

Once again there is something moving me.

I want to spoil you. I want to cook for you and rub your back. As you walk in I would unclothe you while whispering, “you are home. You are safe here. In our domain your defenses can be lowered. The world cannot find us, sight cannot enter our world of worlds. We are spirits sent on a journey to renew the world of love. But even spirits must rest. Even spirits are tempted by evil. Charged with a task unlike any other we must continue to move, to inspire, to uplift, to enlighten. Our shine is bright. Our diamonds do not sparkle. I am alone. I am alone. I am here. I was here. I will always be here…somehow. Someway.

What is this feeling, I want I want I want you. But you are no where to be found. Why must you taunt me with your love? Why is it that you can tease me with your absence? Does that even make sense? I have never met you but I feel like I have always known you, yet somedays you feel nonexistent. I do not know what this is. You are half of me, a piece of me, maybe you are me. Sometimes I sit there and feel your warmth, sometimes I sit there and pretend you are here. But you are never here, you have never been here, maybe you never will.

What do we love to do? Do we dance shamelessly all over the house? Are we fully clothed, partially, or maybe not at all? Am I cooking and you slyly walk behind warmingly wrapping your hands around my waist, passionately kissing my neck, then resting your head and watching me cook? Are you in your boxers? What am I cooking? We eat at the table right? We lay out a beautiful menagerie of silverware and dishes. You ask me about my day and I begin to tell you. You cut me off and give me that look – you know better than that. You let me know my rights and wrongs. You inform me of my flaws. You are unafraid of giving it to me raw. Now you speak. I call you a fool. We laugh, spit up our food. We eat, you wash. I take a shower.

The Oracle Has Spoken

I sat one day in front of the computer uncomfortable as ever. I was upset, disturbed, and irritated. The worst part about this experience was I did not know why. All I knew was I wanted to scream. My spirit was in turmoil and from past events I have learned you Never ignore an unsettled spirit. So as writers do, I opened a word document. With no effort at all my fingers preordained for this moment typed as my eyes and mind watched in wonderment. I felt like a modern day oracle of Delphi. This is what I prophesied…

– It was the dawn of time when you said you loved me. But as the fish walked the first walk of life you fled. You grabbed the four-legged creature and left me gasping for air. I was the mer-creature left in a swamp of murk. That night the sea grew cold, deep, and unknown. My scales lost its luster and my gills filled with hate. Eyes peering just over the water-esk horizon I saw you leap into the air on its back. Bound not by green but held by blue.

Every crevice became my shelter, eyes no longer needed, sun unseen. Colder and colder I retreated, deeper and deeper I wandered. The sea was my jar of tears. I could not understand why I could not fly, where was my four-legged creature? I could not understand. I swam faster than any sea horse. I could dodge a shiver of megalodons. The pearls I harbored in my pouch caused volcanoes to heel. I am a masterpiece. The children we would rear would bear the name Triton. A dynasty of esteem. –

I am not sure when the rest of the prophesy will come. I know there is more because I can feel it. But I’ll let you know this – as soon as my spirit starts to roll I shall swiftly start to write. But who knows, the spirit does as it pleases. I’ll probably end up with an entirely new and unrelated foretelling.

Clothes Are For Closets Not Love

I read these stories of other blogger’s past relationships – pain runs deep. My kindness and love was taken advantage of. My sincerity and concern was seen as mistrust. My honesty and integrity was taken as deception. I was duplicity and he was my heart – or forming vestigial. I was told I could not be trusted because of my major; I was receiving my masters in communication. Yes! My ex was a secret multimillionaire bloodline of Alexander the Great who found the burial spot of Jimmy Hoffa. You could imagine that as an aspiring TV personality I could not wait to get the story out.

 How could I expect him to be honest with me when he was not honest with himself? His words of honesty had nothing to do with me but were spew. Words vomited out so his dying heart could grab hold of supposed truths. My fingers shake as I write this post, my anger rises, and my heart goes out to trapped souls who rather kill themselves than be who they are.

Love should not be closeted. Love should not exist between four walls or distant glances in a room full of family. Love should be shared.

We must learn to leave when love no longer sits at the table. Some will never understand how much you do and sacrifice for them. This is when it is time to leave. We must understand our worth. We must understand the value that we possess and can bestow upon others.

If you are in relationship were your love cannot exist, Run! Actually – Walk! And as you walk take heed as to how you came to be. Read the notes you left yourself. Remember the taste of each breadcrumb that lead you to this house.

I Use to Pick Up the Pieces. Now I Lay Them Down

I am known to play on all edges of life except the one of love. I have always been so careful in this matter. For I guess I knew my love was stubborn, that I do not forget easily. That within an instant passion could rise and remind me of what was or what could have been. I use to pick up the pieces. Now I lay them down. I spread them on construction paper and piece together a story for onlookers. Read and learn. Taste and feel. This is my story, this is your story, this is our story.

 I hang yarn with shards of glass to dangle from the ceiling

I give freedom to mice to roam drawers of darkness

The keyhole is jammed with blistered candy

The TV is a loop of memories to come

Barbwire is the bed frame that foundations a sea of hot blankets

As the door closes it opens, hinges do not live here

Ghosts do not dwell

Pain cries to his mother, Love

Love cries to her father, Time

Time cries to his God, Time

There are no numbers, there are no hands

There is only

Within the skeleton hangs closets; pretty and colorful but made of material less than human.

Affection Affection Affection

—————–

There is immense symbolism in this video and her words are powerful and true. Sometimes we lose ourselves in the pursuit of loving another when we should be finding ourselves and them – mutually and lovingly.

Wrecking Ball
We clawed, we chained, our hearts in vain
We jumped, never asking why
We kissed, I fell under your spell
A love no one could deny

Don’t you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can’t live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was break me
Yeah you, you wreck me

I put you high up in the sky
And now, you’re not coming down
It slowly turned, you let me burn
And now, we’re ashes on the ground

Don’t you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can’t live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was break me
I came in like a wrecking ball
Yeah, I just closed my eyes and swung
Left me crashing in a blazing fall
All you ever did was break me
Yeah you, you wreck me

I never meant to start a war
I just wanted you to let me in
And instead of using force
I guess I should’ve let you win
I never meant to start a war
I just wanted you to let me in
I guess I should’ve let you win

Don’t you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was break me
I came in like a wrecking ball
Yeah, I just closed my eyes and swung
Left me crashing in a blazing fall
All you ever did was break me
Yeah you, you wreck me
Yeah you, you wreck me

Can Two Men Just Be Men?

What is the meaning of this “thing” called love? How am I supposed to know what it is? Is it that important? Does anyone else get tired of searching for this mysterious and elusive entity?

It is hard enough finding friends that are gay, so how the heck do you expect me to find a lover – a husband?!  Everyone is operating under a veil. “My people” are too afraid to uncover their lovely faces. Honestly, sometimes it feels like I am an alien lurking in the shadows looking for my fellow comrades. If you’re non-heterosexual you know how it goes. You pass a person and you get a vibe, a surge. Then comes the stare, the prolonged glance…yet not too prolonged. You continue to throw glances but no one is brave or sure enough the other person is a part of the esoteric society. And the last thing you want to do is ask someone if they are gay. It is not the rejection that hurts but the stare they give you now they know your secret or the fear they may lash out in anger and insult. So instead you go home and continue to guess and wonder for the rest of your days – Is he/she the one that got away?

Now, let’s just say I find him, you know the guy. What are we suppose to do? It is not like I can turn on the TV and be showed through comedy, drama, or horror this is what the male does and this is what the female does. Am I supposed to cook and if I do cook, does it make me the girl? What if I want to mow the lawn and cook, who am I now? Do I rub his feet and bring him tea in the morning? Who opens the door for the other?  Do I put my hands on his shoulder when we dance or do I rest it on his waist? Gahhhhhh! Can someone show me the way? Do men cry and hold each other when they are in pain? And if they do, are they still men?

Why wasn’t there a book I could read growing up or a silly cartoon with two dads I could watch Saturday morning while crunching on Cheerios?  Instead I’ll just…I’ll just see what happens. I’ll tell him “I’m cooking, but don’t think that makes me the woman” or “You can open the door for me this time, but next time I’ll do it so we can both feel masculine.”

 

I wonder what lesbians think, I’m sure they have similar reservations.

 

 In any case, whatever man I end up with, he will understand whether I cook, change diapers, mow the lawn, or beat up the guy next door for staring at him, I am neither male or female I am just me. Plus it is 2013 screw gender roles! Women are executing tasks that has been deemed a “Man’s Job,” and they are doing it better. And let’s give credit to the guys too; some men are better cooks and diaper changers than women on their best day!

Anyway, it is time to get dressed and run amuck!

I Lost Myself in Love…or Something Like it.

I do not even know where to begin so I’ll jump in where my fingers and mind lead me.

He locked me in a room. 

Our entire relationship was between four walls; walls of despair and bereavement.   He told me things I dare not (at the time) tell my family or friends.  There were days he liked me and days he did not.  Moments he loved my body and moments he loathed it.  Nights our bodies laid next to each other like strangers at a bus stop – but still I cared. Why didn’t I leave, why did I stay? I felt horrid, ugly, and decrepit. I started to die, I compromised my very soul.  And because of this neglect my body, spirit, and mind took a large blow that would change my life forever.

 I kept the relationship private because that is what he wanted, I honored his request. I told no one the stories of our love… or lust. Now, I realize that he did not want privacy; he was trying to protect something he thought was integrity. He liked men but told himself he did not. He wanted men (and even me) but told himself that was impossible. I knew he was confused, I knew he was lost, but I thought he would grow to love me. That I would pull him out his pit of internal conflict and our love would be triumphant- such was not the case.

 

That is all I can muster to write, for now.