The Fight In Me

hand me an Excedrin because this weekend has been the utmost headache in my backside. Great weekend as it has been -  great date night Friday night, Mayweather is 45-0, my cycle has decided to keep recycling -  I have been knocked out by the bold disregard of what it means to be black in this country. Children are grown not to be concerned with the errors or lifestyles of the past unless it happens to deal with fashion. It is the only way the past is revisited in comfort. Yes? No? Children go around wearing 80s and 90s fashion in 2013. But ask these children what were the political themes of that time and they would probably look down with shame at their brightly colorful sneakers for the truth to their ignorance. They should be ashamed of not one but two things, their callowness and those damned streetlights they wear on their feet.

You know what the worst part of this is? I may not share the interests of these youths and their style choices but what's worse is that I do share the ignorance to my own history. Of course I know the basics. I was aware of racism before an older white man called me "nigger" as I walked past him because my father made sure that I read and knew of my history. My parents did their part; I did not. As I got angry, I never learned to face my anger or even how to direct it. I caked it over with the idea to keep moving forward and treat people as they come  - that was only half of what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to keep reading. I was supposed to keep researching. I was supposed to keep up-to-date with the laws of the country I live in. I am sure the immigrant knows more than the native.

This weekend was the first time I ever saw Spike Lee's documentary "4 Little Girls." Was I aware of the hatred? Yes. Was I aware of segregation? Yes. Was I aware of the lynchings? Yes. My parents did their job; I did not. I was busy building my own anger towards what was happening in my own young life - none of your business - and being angry with police for the beatings that I had heard about on the news. I took this anger and I built myself, with the support of my parents, towards becoming the Editor-in-Chief of my under grad alma mater and urged my collegiates to vote, to become a part of something that would drive them to care about their lives and future as a black person in America; I didn't care how fair-skinned they were. Two years! Two years I held this position but as I saw the lack of care, as I noticed that people were complacent with just moving through life with a sheer blindfold on, I gave up. I stopped reading, I stopped caring, and I put on my blindfold and kept on walking.

Time Just Isn't Fair

You know if it were 9:14 am and I was running late from Bklyn to the City to be at work for 9:30 am do you how quickly Time would run out on me and it would be 9:45 as sudden as if only five minutes had past from 9:14. Now it's 5:16pm and Time just doesn't want to move the same anymore.

I'm Going to Be A UFC Fighter Day91

Changes

Hi. It's that moment when I had a morning reflection and thought... this could not be my life. Wake up, go to my 9-5. Warning... if you are a co-worker and you're reading this - read without judgement. You may not want to read this simply because you may misinterpret what I'm saying. And I'm not going to take my time to read and re read what I'm writing to try to appease you. No offense. If you choose to read, then read on Reader. Anyway, as I was saying... reached a point where I think a change is necessary in my life because I can't see this happening for another ten years. Or five. Maybe two. Maybe two. But also I can see fear setting in of the "well then what next?" and also the facing the guilt of "do you know how much you spent on grad school??? why aren't you using that degree??? and why doesn't it seem as if you have plans to use your degree??" I spent 50grand on a degree that i thought I'd get a job in and enjoy. What happened after I defended my thesis? I realized I hate to be bothered. And sitting down in front of a computer all day editing something though i still have fond memories of working this way cause sometimes - ok - all the time - when editing i would get into this flow of putting this puzzle together - that's how I see the cut. Pieces of a puzzle. I enjoyed it. I won't lie but I see something i like even better. And I cannot pursue a job in my degree when I want a career doing something else. I don't want a 9-5 much less a 12-12. Cause that's what editing is... you go home from work and you're still working. No room for much else. Hypocrite? Me? Noooooo. So what if my second job right now is training to become a UFC fighter (development in baby stage but progressing nicely) and it takes up all of whatever time is left from after my 9-5. I enjoy every minute of it. Aren't I allowed to change my mind? When i decided to go for my master's it wasn't because I was compelled to. It was because my parents encouraged me to, with great intentions. They wanted - we wanted for me to have my degree before life took over and I no longer wanted to go back to school but at the time I wanted to do massage therapy. My mommsy couldn't see a career for me in it or a degree (the degree didn't exist then) so I went with what I could get a master's in. Point? I went after what seemed practical not after a passion. "This fighting business" as my loved ones so dub it, is a passion. Granted I have a another one - writing. I still have to finish my book. I want to self-publish it by the end of this year. I like my job. It has its moments where I'm like "this is so awesome" and it has its moments when I'm like " if this heifer don't back the f*** up... @!#$%^*&@&@^#" but who doesn't?? lol I'm bored now. You've all heard my philosophy on life and experiencing it. Nothing in this life should be permanent except family (spouse included). Everything else we should be able to keep moving forward and growing and changing. If your career is being a doctor, don't you want to keep within those fields of what can i do or learn next to get the most out of your profession? I want to fight. Write. Massage. Honestly... that's what i want. Fight. Write. Massage. And now Queensboro has a new program where you can get an Associate's in Massage Therapy. Did someone say school? Again? I have two years before I'm thirty. I'm not married. My only responsibility other than bills, is my car. I love my car. lol. Which means I still need a 9-5 to maintain the lifestyle. And who doesn't like cash in their pocket? And it's really one of two choices... maintain the 9-5 or find a sugar daddy. Don't judge me. lol. Soooooooo not looking to start school soon because I want to fight first and my time needs to go into training. After some fights I can get into school. It would take more than two years to finish because I'm not doing what I did with my masters. Back then I went to school full-time and worked full-time. Not again. My mental capacity isn't that big. What if I worked here part-time?? NOT NOW. But next year? Or the year after?? I don't care about the age thing anymore. But I do know I only have 7 more years to start having children and the doctor puts me in the "high-risk" group. But so what?? (Seven years might seem long but ummm... marriage have to take place first... before marriage is dating... before dating is... you get the point... and I have no interest in rushing one after the next, neither with children). I did that with Grad school. I'm not doing it again. Because this time, it will be a lifetime regret. Not just a financial one. So I'm going to take my time with all my decisions and just keep moving forward slowly but surely. And move with my passion. My choices. My wants. My passions. Common denominator? "My" a.k.a. Me

Little Screws Inside My Head

Little Screws inside my head; some are tight and some are not. The looser one gets, the tighter the other holds and then my screws just don't know which way to go. There is an unseen clock that ticks inside my head; its small steps leave large imprints. What can I make of this clock and since when do clocks laugh? And why does this one insist on laughing at me?!? Its uneven hands point away from me and demands me to make moves when all I want to do is sit still and watch its performance. It thinks I don't know but when it thinks I'm not looking, that's when it spins away and all the hands dance with each other allowing things to happen that would never happen if I just sat there and stared at it. For with every tick was a laugh. And for every laugh I allowed the screws that I had control of to loosen and loosen. But as I loosened some screws, I had to tighten the rest. Like tuning a guitar and with the timer in the background, I keep tightening and loosening those screws until I get the right tune. And I'll keep tightening and loosening those screws until I get the right tune.  

I Heard You've Missed Me...

Well don't make me blush; it's not in my character. Lies, deceit, and if I'm lucky, ugly truths are what I'm used to, not to you. Not to genuine smiles and kisses that were once seldom or random or selfish. Not to kindness that demands nothing in return but only to be appreciated and loved - and sometimes, not even that. Not to being invited into your world and you into my own, a piece of me that no one has ever touched, tasted, or felt before, though they've tried and failed miserably. You know you don't know me and that truth scares you and it should because then we can say that the feeling is mutual. When I talk to you, as I'm talking to you now, do you know it is to you that I am reaching out? Do you have to hear me say your name or can you just tell from the tone that I'm giving? I've heard that you've missed me but is it true? What do my words do to you? The spell binded in between the words entrances you into believing that the spell is real when real just means you've already fallen in love with me... so this is for you.

HEaRtbUrN

Inside of me inside of me inside of me, my chest there is a pain a ball of pain knotting its way clogging up my arteries choking me into believing that today my world is going to end. my shoulders hold my heavy thoughts and hunch me over increasing the anxiety in between my chest and my belly. the witch stares at me through her blind eyes her veil is black and therefore when she sees me, Black is all that she sees. bitch. this makes my discomfort worse. how else could i focus on getting rid of the claustrophobia rising within. i should've followed my dreams to become a dancer. that way when i move I could send out my expressions through that medium instead of sitting still my fingers pounding away at this keyboard when all i want to do is dance as this music sings to me and only me. so maybe my passion isn't writing but dancing but being that i gave up dancing over twelve years ago i have taken on a second lover. Lover. he's gone on to love another. fucking monkey. his brother called it a love, hate relationship. I don't know if that's right or on point but i guess in the world of whatever society deems "normal" love, hate, it is. one woman tells me to sing, "i am titanium," p!nk tells me to "try" and all I want is my silence back. where sanity dwells and i am calm i am calm i am calm punctuations never work for me so get over it guilty conscience speaks through even when there are no questions asked. i am not okay.

Erase Me

I like to write with a pencil sometimes, just so i could erase. Imagine that erasing the words could be as erasing the moments of my life. If only it were that simple. Tentative words for tentative positions within tentative states of minds. Erased. If only...

Identifying with Taylor Swift

This is more of a tweet than a blog but read it just the same. I can identify with Taylor Swift. getting it right is hard to do and when you have no tolerance for bullshit, it's even more difficult to "get it right." I've heard the bullshit ppl try to tell others who serial date, such as myself, that "you need to learn who you are" and blah blah blah... I know who I am, thank you much and I'm learning just like everyone else. Taylor, you're not crazy, everything takes time. Some just takes longer than others. In the meantime, enjoy every laugh, cry, and #1 hit song that comes out of it.

Back to the Writing Board

Can't wait to go home and put my fingers to my new keyboard to write for you, my readers and my favorite Silent Stalkers. Many Thanks to my cousin a.k.a. my eldest brother, for helping me out. Not mentioning his name but Dougla people always know when you're talking bout them ;P

Hope

I know Hope. She is the master of Duality. All left Reason to hold onto Hope. All believed in her but so did Reason. She never showed favor to either party. She led both into battle seducing them with victory but she never promised favor to either party.  Hope can allow a man the will to live as she can also allow him the will to die. Favor is to neither party. Manipulation may work to your favor but note it is still Hope that drives that bargain. Hope is the number one courtesan to many a lover, and the number seductress to many mad men. She appeals to all and yet there is none jealous because everyone believes that she is their own to be held. Her masochist idealism holds her intact to be felt by every man, touched in places that only Imagination has known.