The Green Light

"..are you gonna sit on the sidelines & watch, or are you gonna get in the game, & play ball?.."

That's a question we all have to ask ourselves at one point or another. That point came for me when I turned 25. And realized, that more often than not, I'm spending my time doing things I have to do instead of indulging in things I want to do. That I was having more "ok" days than "great" days... That happiness was becoming an unattainable dream I was chasing futuristically.. as I presently just... existed.

Yes. All at 25. I took a look at my life... and realized I wasn't happy with what it was, what it was becoming. That though I had responsibilities and goals that placed unwanted restrictions on my time, I still wasn't utilizing the small gaps of time I did have to myself in a fulfilling manner. I used to tell myself... once I completed my masters program, everything will go back to "normal". But here's the thing. I didn't want it to. "Normal" was never that great for me, and "normal" was never what I wanted. That left me at a loss.

How do you simultaneously create the life you want while navigating the life that you have?

A daunting task, I must say. Especially once you've truly come to realize there really aren't enough hours in the day.

But I really had to have a real conversation with myself. Truly ask myself:

Do you want to watch people live their lives, or begin to live your own?

What is preventing you from becoming the person you want to be?

Why do you feel that you aren't always in control when it is your life?

And the answers are... YES. I  want to live MY life, desperately... && that more often than not, the barrier to change in becoming the ideal me.. is ME. && honestly, the best way to be in control [of yourself] is to not be controlling.

Control.... interesting concept. Particularly for a person like me who thrives on it, within it. But the truth is, we are never in control [completely]. And the key to owning yourself and your life, is to accept that. And operate accordingly.

----------

It all sounds great, right?.... Like I have all the answers.. && have it all under "control"
... LOL.. nah

Here's the reality. The only constant in life is change. But change is one of the hardest things to do.

We are creatures of habit... we cling to what we know.. and what has always "worked".. even if it hasn't always left us the most satisfied.

The true catalyst for change is discomfort. Discomfort so extreme that change is no longer an option; it becomes a necessity.

&& with that said... I'm only beginning this journey. Of true self-discovery.
Genuine vulnerability. Complete honesty. Total acceptance. Pure love.

So no.... you won't catch me on the sidelines any longer. I'll be too busy playing {the game}[better known as life]. I encourage the rest of you on the sidelines to join me.

Fallacy

This hurts me
Epiphany
Lack of acceptance
of ME
Inner Peace....longing....
demons...preying...plaguing....
I'm not who I thought I was....
not who I thought I'd be...
yet I refuse to look in the mirror
&& see me...for me
who I Am
who I'm not...
Everything
Allusions to an Illusion
A lost butterfly
intricacies upon intricacies of delicate detail
too complex to comprehend
to distinguish beginning from end

|Silhouette|

Silhouette.... Smoke screens.... Jade
The lilies are merely figurative notions...
Imaginably blowing in the wind..
I see you for who you are.
What you are.
All the imagery I more so dreamed would represent you
It doesn't get more real than this.
I love you.
But I shouldn't.
I never should've.
&& because of that...
Reality beams down on me ...
like the bold, brilliant afternoon sun..

Identity [ #LaterBlog ]

Empty bottles of wine litter the apartment floor....
Lipstick-stained wine glasses...
half braided blonde hair....
tattered clothing...

a tattered mind... thoughts, memories replayed...
struggling to forget what your heart can't seem to not remember
that feeling....
as misleading as it is
that feeling....

I went down south this past week... back home. To South Carolina, where my family dwells, to North Carolina where there's literally nothing there but road, trees, and tons of mobile homes.... a former one-high school, now two high-school town, that is all of 30-50 miles wide.... that is responsible for my childhood... That taught me who not to  be.... Poverty. Drug culture. Unprotected sex.... Babies, families, minimum wage existence... this is the reality of those... still in Harnett County... still in Spring Lake.. Lillington, Bunnlevel.

.. I couldn't shake the thought...  had I not left, who would I be?

But furthermore, because I left, who am I?...

Mad World

"...&&& I find it kind of funny. I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying, are the best I've ever had...."

 

 

Another song, better yet, another concept that has permanently infiltrated my mind. Donnie Darko, a cult-classic film in which this song was eloquently embedded, challenges the notion of reality vs. fantasy.

"When people run in circles, it's a very very.... Mad World."

 

 

The Concept

Teenage FanClub, a late 80s-early 90s Scottish, alternative rock band, created a song that I haven't been able to get out of my head since I first heard it. The song, entitled "The Concept", which was released in '91, was used in a modern-day bizarre comedy starring Charlize Theron, affectionately and ironically titled "Young Adult". I often watch this movie, effortlessly placing myself in Charlize's shoes, as she relives her "glory days" and attempts to reconnect with her first love. This song is redundantly played throughout the film, highlighting the flesh memory notion of music, along with the time capsule that certain songs are able to willingly trap us within.

 

BandwagonEsque. How fitting.

 

Legacy

"I used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky is falling....
Why am I so differently wired? ... Am I a Martian? " - MM

A question that has plagued my existence since I've become aware of the very notion that I do in fact exist....

On the outside looking in, best way to describe this sensation...

Belonging to a lost generation of art-crazed hippies who desire nothing more than to think critically and effortlessly change the world....simply by being.

Repression. Be "normal". Fit in. Don't stand out.

How does one maintain an identity in a world that thrives off anonymity?

That's the key. Defeat.

Separation. Elevation.

"I used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky is falling...
Now I think the fact that I'm differently wired is awesome..." - MM

Because if I wasn't.....

Black void. Full of nothingness. Darkness. A blank space on the stencil that consists of my etches, my impact, my print on the world.

There's no guarantee.... It's not up to me.

This is my Legacy.

Day & Night: a short story

A slither of sunlight creeps in through the maroon-colored curtains and caresses her face.
She opens her eyes.
Awake. Aware. It is officially tomorrow, the day she kept praying would "just come" yesterday.
To her disdain, yesterday's problems remain.
How did they follow her to today?
Did they cling to her dreams, hide in her subconscious, or blend with the sun, ready to greet her upon daybreak?
She was at a loss...
She lay there. Reminding herself... I must be responsible for my own happiness. Don't give it away. I must watch over it. Be vigilant about it...

She smiled.

At this point, she felt perhaps she would be able to get through the day.
She hopped out of bed, showered, dressed...
For a moment, everything felt....fine.
Then she remembered... the dilemmas from yesterday remain unresolved today. Her eyes, though highlighted with eyeliner and mascara, remained a bit puffy from the the rivers they cried the night before.
She thought.... There's got to be more to life... 
&& with that notion, she attempted to begin her day.
Made herself some breakfast. Two-stepped in the kitchen to Jill Scott.
Fluffed out her big hair, threw on some shades, & headed out.
Riding along...she sang along to the likes of Maxwell, Vivian Green, & Desiree Jordan...
Music was her escape. In this moment, she felt so alive.

*ring ring ring*

She falls, sharply, from that beautiful moment, && plops, silently, back into reality.
She doesn't even bother to look to see who's calling; regardless, voicemail will do the talking for her.
She attempts to re-submerge herself into that temporary bliss... but is interrupted once more, this time by an intense vibrate...

She forces herself to look... a picture. A beautiful portrait of beautiful girl. She appeared to be poised... yet free. Too free. She just stared, for minutes on end, admiring how free she seemed to be....
She thought.... I must have been like this...right? How do I get back to this?  Is it possible? Or has my canvas been too tainted to start over with a new painting?...

Back to life. Back to reality.

She returns home. She sits... Alone. In her apartment.
&& she thinks.... About her life.
Her circumstances. Her future. She looks into the mirror. Turns away quickly...
She can't remember the last time she liked what she saw.
She sits... && wonders.... Why am I here? Why are any of us here? We are all just living to die...
Chaotic purposeless universe....
She questions why this this notion of purposelessness comforts her so....

She seeks escape... through music, through film. She cries, she laughs. She is frightened. Confused.
But most importantly, she is no longer present, here, in this moment. She is....free. At least temporarily.
She furthers her escape... indulging in recreational drug use.
She thinks... the farther away I can escape from my own reality, the better...
She slips....further & further into the unknown...
Drowning in purified thoughts & artificial joys that persuade her that life isn't so bad, after all...
With a smile on her face, she falls into a blissful rest.
At last, she is happy.


A slither of moonlight creeps in through the maroon-colored curtains, caressing her face...
She opens her eyes.
To her dismay, she is still here.
Still alive, still living in the hell she has come to know as her life.
She rolls over, begins to cry, & prays for peace...
Ashamed of her tears, she forces herself back to sleep...
At least there, in her dreams, even if temporarily... she knows....
She'll be free...

Growing Pains

That feeling... of being oddly aware that you're alive... human... breathing... living... changing...
that connections and chemical reactions are constantly taking place....
making us whole.... making us who we are..... making us..... tick.

It's an interesting feeling...
my thoughts often form and travel faster than my ability to make sense of them, articulate them...
Create art from them... communicate them.

Pain &&& Pleasure. the duality... the insatiability... can one exist without the other?

I live in pain.... pleasure is a product of that sensation....

Lonely's the only other company....for me... No family... few friends... Jaded lovers..

Facing reality... sometimes feels like too daunting of a feat.

Self-medicating has become the only escape.. the only means of survival
Idk how I do it from day to day sometimes.... living, I mean...

I'm a pretty messed up person... I act like I have it all together.. but in reality, I admire people like my clients... who don't have it all together, can admit that, and are able to work on it simultaneously while still trying to make the most of their lives.... Their spirit... their joy, to just be alive, it's overwhelming....

It makes me ashamed... of the pain that consumes me... && my inability to truly cope with it. I merely suppress it, to the best of my ability.. && just try to make it.. but I feel as if an obvious cloud lingers over me... follows me... like the pain is etched into my essence... that my being reaks of resentment, bitterness, loneliness...&& I hate that about myself... but it's so pervasive... often so overwhelming.... that even through my attempts to suppress my pain..it still manages to find a way to seep through my pores... permeate my skin... and interfere with my life.

Got damn... I'm a strong individual.... despite the pain I'm consumed with inside.. I still manage to make it from day to day... do well in school, do well at work, do well at my internship, maintain relationships.... like.... sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning feels impossible... how am I still alive?
....doing this play "For Colored Girls" has made me more aware of the range of trials sistahs deal with, as women...I'm just thankful that I'm strong... and that no matter what, I am always able to endure....

The Art of Giving & Receiving...

A friend once said to me, "Most people say you should treat people how you want to be treated. But really, you should treat people how they want to be treated."

While riding home today,  I took a minute (music off, focused) to think about the people in my life.
I looked back over time, at the friends, as well as romantic relationships, that I've had/have... && I've realized that most of the miscommunication that occurs between others and myself revolves around giving and receiving.

Allow me to explain this further.

I know myself. &&& how far I'm willing to go for the average human being, not to mention someone I consider myself cool with, completely independent of anyone I would even call a (close) friend...
I'm a(n over) giver. That's how I show my love, respect, and appreciation for others. I give.

However...

I do not feel I am able to receive. Often... it takes awhile, if ever, for me to genuinely receive from those I care about. I question motives.... I worry about intentions...when hurt by that person, I do not believe that it was not purposeful.... but worst of all, if I'm not being "given to" the way I feel I need to be, it may, again, take me awhile (if ever) to receive what someone is trying to give me....

My insecurities around getting too close to a person or being taken advantage of force me to immediately put my guard up completely when I sense the slightest bit of indiscretion. This is not effective. However, it is the only defense mechanism that has truly protected me from experiencing further hurt. The bad thing about this though, is that it hurts the person who is trying to give to me. Because my wall, sturdy and high, is impenetrable, the person attempting to break through often grows tired, sometimes even to the point of giving up... Who can blame them? Sometimes we all must accept defeat.

But that's where the epiphany comes in. If we truly love others, we must be willing to receive their version of giving. No matter how their notion of giving differs from our version of giving, or even from our notion of what a person giving to us should look or feel like... if we truly care about a person, we should accept them for who they are, along with their notion of giving, and be willing to receive that giving to the best of our abilities.

Now... sometimes, it just doesn't work. Sometimes, how two people give & receive are just too different, and it is nearly impossible to give or receive on either end without changing who you are as a person... However.... usually, I feel, it often involves us stepping outside of ourselves, attempting to put ourselves in the other person's shoes, and attempt to understand their notion of giving in order for us to better receive.

I've learned this lesson before.... that I must accept others for who they are, and how they are. && I can take it or leave it. But...if who and how they are isn't harmful, but simply different from who & how I am, I should be willing to accept that person and understand... that though their version of giving may not be how I prefer to receive... at least that person feels positively enough about me to give... and that alone should at least make me willing to attempt to receive. I expect the same from others... which tends to be easier on my end because I "over-give", which may result in some saying I give too much, but that's who and how I am. && anyone who cares about me will accept that ....and equally be willing to receive, even if they don't agree with how I give.....

&&& there's the crux. It's a push n pull. A give & take. But each person must be willing to compromise for each other's sake....

..scattered thoughts...

Half note.... scattered.

Tears. Dropped, dried, discarded.

I think of you. Of me. How lost I've become within you, in me.

Watching tall grass... lillies... dance and sway in the breeze

In my mind... I attempt to paint you... from the memories of the pictures I've taken of your soul

With my mind. In my mind.... I create you.

I was once scared.... disappointed.... ashamed of myself. For loving you.

Emotion... foreign. consuming.

This. Can't. Be.

Life.

This. Can't. Be.

Me. You. Us.

Overwhelmed by a sensation that is so indescribable...

It burns my chest... fires within begging to be released... expressed....

Words just begging to be free.

Why can't they just be freed?..... Free them.

Free me.

Half note.... Scattered. Lost.... in the breeze, drifting in the wind of this Street Melody.

Intimate Confessional...

I don't want nobody more than you...
can't even think straight....
I've fallen....
for you [sexually] I see within you.
you see past me
yet I stay...
and hold on...
simply because....
I 've fallen
for you.
Sexually.
It's real....
Deep...
pervasive....
dynamic...
lowkey....
I'm an addict..
For you.

Subconscious: The Inevitable... [an interlude]

But here goes nothin....

That's what I thought when I initially indulged you.
Here I stand...a year later.
Little did I know...

It was something.

That's how life is. You enter a situation w/ minimal expectations... && leave w/ an exorbitant amount of absorbed energy. Feelings. Thoughts. Emotions. Sentiments.... && yes... expectations...

Because no matter how much we try to convince ourselves not to expect anything... that in itself creates the environment for expectations to thrive.

The norm, the status quo, innately becomes the unspoken expectation and you inevitably, yet subconciously, begin to hold said other to that implicit standard.

Life....

It wasn't love. But...it was something like it [the next chapter]

It wasn't love.
But. It was something like it.
Possessive. Overwhelming.
Dynamic. Changing. Fluid...
Kept me guessing...
Drifting in & out of reality
w/ just one kiss, the touch of your lips
Against my skin... Dimly lit cellar...
Moonlight peeking in at us through the cracks
Acknowledging what once separated us...uniting us...Simultaneously..
With the stars.. the universe.
We are one.

But.

It wasn't love.

Demanding... My mind lost touch w/ all variations of logic
My heart...intertwined w/ desire...
&& lust for the unknown... I thrusted
myself forward...into the abyss
Spiraling out of control... But I liked it
Felt alive... Spicy... Dangerous

It was something like it.... Love.

Something about it.... that made it so undeniable that, knowingly, I indulged in what was of great risk to me..

Thinking... That never happened.
Feeling... All of which I could never understand...
All I knew
All I knew
All...I...Knew....

It wasn't love....
But. It was something like it..

The Beginning...

Care Less.

Win More.

Do Less.

Get More.

Expect Nothing.

Disappointment Dissipates.

Trust no One.

Nowhere is Safe.

Progression is difficult, often, because forgiveness challenges the ability to forget.

Memories serve as a lifeline for pain, creating an abyss for negativity to dwell.

Paradox. Irony. Life.

No Strings Attached: FWBs

What does it really mean to have NO strings attached? Is it even literally possible?..... depends on who you ask.

My thoughts?

It is impossible to have NO strings attached. However... it is possible to choose which strings are permissible. But even so, this does not rule out the possibility that other strings may exist... it simply just forbids those extraneous strings from being relevant.

Think about it.

To be FRIENDS with someone, SOME type of string must exist for that relationship to be established and for it to continue to flourish. This is an example of an extraneous "string"... it exists.. it's even necessary... but for this purpose, it's not relevant.

Now.

What does it really mean to be Friends W/ BENEFITS with someone?... hmm lol

I think the main factor that is often omitted is the actual existence of a legitimate friendship. Without this... seriously, the FWB ideal is screwed from jump. The friendship aspect is so necessary because without it, the pair of you may as well be fuck buddies.

&& yes. there is a difference.
But we will discuss that at a later time.

Soooo ok... let's say this legitimate friendship does exist... then what?
What happens after sex? Things get weird.

Weird? I define it as the transformation from nothing to something. In essence, NOW everything means something. Everything.

F'xample: You are "friends" with a dude & the pair of you typically chat every other day. Say the pair of you experience an intense make out session, leveling somewhere between second & third base. Awesome. Well...then say after this mini-episode, you don't hear from your "friend" for an entire week. If this physical encounter never took place, typically, most would think nothing of this. However, since something has materialized, you can't help but to attribute the "change" to those physical doings. What happens now? SOMEONE confuses their "strings"... you know, the extraneous ones that exist, may even be necessary, but aren't relevant? Yeah...those.... &&& now.... your "Friendship" hardly "exists". Tough life.

Now... lol.... what is my purpose in stating all of this? Well... I don't think that sex without ["irrelevant"] strings is possible. I think it is impossible for a person to fully keep their extraneous strings at bay... some may be better than others at repressing their irrelevant strings... but you know what this does? Fosters resentment.

So what happens now? is FWBs just not possible? Is the mantra 'No Strings Attached' strictly a gimmick? I don't think so. I just think that you must be able to be honest with yourself and your other in the process, and honestly, prepare to get your feelings hurt. Because at some point, that will be the end result. However... if you are game for these challenges and feel that the benefits outweigh the costs (because in some cases, they really do), then go for it.

Just don't think that it's ever possible to have NO "strings" attached..

Missing You [An Interlude]

Mentally... I find myself stifled.
Conundrum.
Unsure of the medleys of thoughts that play repititively in my head....
I MISS you.
Like everyday.
But what does that matter...if you don't feel the same?
Confusion... Delusion lingers...
Lucid
Memories...
Sun Kissed Skin... brown hues complimenting high cheekbones...
Light, feathery cheek stroking... tips of my fingers dancing lightly on your skin....
within
I absorb you...
within.
Your beauty. Bold. Embedded in your physique.
I can't get enough... your lips, your eyes, hell your thighs...
they plague me... even in my sleep.
I don't know what to do...
Day in...day out... my psyche automatically showcases instant replays of you
& me
together
Sexin..
Laughin.
Passionate connection.
This can't be happening.....

.....................................
.The strongest part of me nurses our connection. You live in my memory.

Just One of those Days...

Somedays…. I wonder…

What is to become of me? I feel like I’m doing everything right… doing everything to the best of my ability… but …

Somedays… I wonder…

Often enough, things don’t feel …. right. They feel forced, uncertain…. the progress that had once seemed so assured… now… lingers … lucidly…

I’m blessed.

But….

Somedays… I wonder…

~A product of Human Nature~

Enchantment Passing Through

I have always prided myself the most on my ability to remain constant in my personality and strong intellectually despite adversity.
My ability to withstand pressure to change who I am for the sake of making others feel more comfortable with their own inadequacies.
Sadly...we all have a breaking point.
I found mine.
Traumatized.
This outspoken warrior became a shy, closed-mouth woman
afraid to ruffle feathers or start a revolution
inhibited. reserved. concerned. censored.
Identity unknown.

[2 B Con't]

It wasn't love.... but it was somethin like it [part 1]

Sometimes I drink to numb the pain
other times...I simply try to ignore it
Sometimes...I drink, dance, think like a slut...find someone to fuck
&&& nut

&&& I'm ok with that

Sometimes I do things... just for attention...just to do it...
other times...it's intentional...w/ meaning... something deep
Sometimes I like to fuck w/ people's heads..get inside... drive them crazy...
save me

&&& I'm just fine with that

Sometimes....I'm not sure who I am....
other times....it's unmistakable
Sometimes I purposely try to redefine myself for the sake of invention & creation
the end result: my ideal & real selves have NO relation

&&& I'm like... that's cool.

Sometimes...I think I'm not good enough to achieve...that I'm destined to fail
other times, I feel UNSTOPPABLE
Sometimes I feel powerful...yet limited...qualified...yet contained
don't let it all be in vain....

&&& I say.... true dat.

[2 b cont]