Tag: ayoowrites

In Which you “Realize Things”

No, I’m not a Kylie Jenner supporter, but let me not get started on what could possibly be such a bitter subject. *clears throat* Someone somewhere in this vast universe said that the way that we love others is often an extension of the way that we love ourselves. I’m sure I didn’t say it.  It’s like when I thought I invented the word snazzy or came up with the phrase, “give a fool a shovel and he’ll dig his own grave.” Moral of that story is that I think I’m a genius and then the internet says, “Girl….you thought….”  You can substitute the word love with treat, forgive, etc.  Now this isn’t true for everyone. We all know those couple of people who expect something of other people that they don’t expect of themselves. I’ll get into that later.  My point is that I realized that I am one of the former.

Let me tell you, I am hard on myself. That’s been repeated on this blog probably a million times, but hey….let me repeat things. If I make a mistake or even just act irrationally then I’m very unforgiving of myself.  I’ll carry the guilt around with me until now. And now. Aaaaaaand….now.  That’s like the time I told my close friend China that she looked like Michael Jackson (in my defense she did because she had on black skinny jeans with a white button down topped off with the pants being cuffed and her having on black loafers. I was justified. And Michael is her idol). But I said it loud where people could hear it and I thought that I embarrassed her. And I still remember it nine years later. It’s not just the fact that I haven’t forgiven/forgotten my slip of the tongue. Since I haven’t done so I feel that she hasn’t either. And the girl couldn’t even remember that she left her car running for a whole hour of school. I also carry the same feeling when other people slip up. I’ll be hard on them because I feel like I would be equally hard on myself.

So a situation occurred this weekend, and it’s not my business to indulge the full details thus I can’t reveal very much.  This is all I can say: I saw a married couple get into an argument. In the height of his anger the husband told the wife to get out, and she did (like her name isn’t on the deed too). The wife went to stay with her parents until the husband grew to regret the situation and asked her to return. I’m not married so it’s only so much I can judge in the situation. I’m not going to say what I would have done since that commentary is unnecessary and unfounded. Can I honestly say I wouldn’t tell my spouse to get out? No. Can I say that I wouldn’t leave? No. Because it’s easy to say what you will and won’t do when you’re not faced with that dilemma personally. NOW I will say that the whole thing blew me like a breeze, and I could think nothing nice about husband or wife. NOTHING. If their last names and first names were Nice I still couldn’t do it. Bluntly put I thought they were both pitiful because they were both acting pitifully.  And the pitifultality (that’s right. I made that word up. FOR REAL THIS TIME) made me so unnecessarily mad.  It was unnecessary. I shan’t deny.  And I kept asking myself, because I was trying to just put the whole situation out of my mind, would I be this judgmental if I were in the situation? And the answer is yes. Yes I would.  I would be unfair to them and to myself.  And it got me thinking, maybe the reason I didn’t extend compassion to them is because I wouldn’t extend it to me. And that’s just really sad.

Many times we are too hard on ourselves. As humans we will make mistakes. We will fail. We will hurt people. It’s inevitable. If you don’t do any of those things then you must live on the mountain side with Big Foot. But when these things do happen, you have to take a deep breath and forgive yourself. We already have to survive in a world that can be hard on us for no good reason other than our gender, face, religion, job, etc. Some people will be hard on you because you’re the cashier at McDonalds and the ice cream machine is down. Like you learned to repair ice cream machines in your garage in your spare time and you should go back there and fix it. They think it’s okay to curse at you and threaten you or jeopardize your job because they are upset. It’s not just, but that’s how the world works.  So you while you have to be realistic about whatever it is you have going on, you also need to be kind to yourself. It will be extremely difficult to extend forgiveness and mercy towards any one in this whole wide world if you won’t even extend it to yourself.  If you’re used to beating yourself up it’s going to be hard to begin this practice.  I’m still learning to just go, “well, you fucked that up kiddo. Take that loss and keep it moving.” Sometimes I’ll have moments where it’ll just flash up in my mind like those memes where Squidward’s eyes suddenly pop open when he remembers something he did. Let me give an embarrassing example (judge me accordingly).  I spent the night with a guy friend (scandalous. not really. Y’all know I’m too insecure for scandalous behavior). I have a terrible sleep pattern and will wake up sporadically at night, especially if I’m nervous (and I was because I liked this particular friend).  Well I woke up at whatever time and I couldn’t go back to sleep. And it didn’t help that I had consumed dairy that day, if you get a young playa’s drift. Well the essence of the dairy worked its way from my internal organs to the outside world in a not so quiet manner. Hey, I’m human. I’m also not supposed to consume dairy according to my doctor but cheese is life. Anyway, the memory of this little ordeal will literally pop into my head at any given moment for no particular reason and give me heartburn. You’re bound to recall embarrassing or rough moments. Which isn’t uncommon. I’m sure it happens to billions of people as well.  But it’s a rough world out there, kids. You gotta be your own sanctuary.

As I said earlier you’ll have the hypocrites who can always point out someone else’s flaws without acknowledging that they have the same ones.  I have some family members who I would put on blast because they’ll never see this post *Kanye shrugs* but I won’t do that. But these family members talk about each other like they are complete strangers. And I find it so amusing, shamefully amusing, that the things they talk about each other for are things that they do/say as well.  One will say the other is too frivolous with money while that person’s credit score is trash.  One will call the other a “lady of the evening” and forget that they are sexually active as well.  I often wonder wouldn’t it be best to just not say anything.  Somewhere in the bible it says that the measurement of judgement you use against others is the same one that will be used against you.  When you open your mouth to judge someone you invite others to judge you on the exact same level. Especially if you make the exact same mistake.  It seems like it would be better to save yourself from that pain. If it does not directly affect you or concern your well-being then just let it go.  Why does it matter that Susie slept with Joe unless you are Mrs. Joe? What does it matter that Carl is on drugs unless you plan to help him seek recovery from his addiction?  These sort of people like other people’s misery or dirty laundry because it makes them feel better about theirs.  Don’t be like that. Along with being kind to yourself, be kind to others. It’s free. It can be painful, excruciatingly painful, but it will ultimately work in your favor.

Still, there will come a time where you have to put your foot down, whether it be on the ground or on someone’s neck but that day is destined to happen. If it comes don’t feel bad about having to do that either.  Meek and weak are not synonymous. You have to protect yourself. Don’t let people run over you because you want to be nice. You can’t be nice all the time. Well, you can, but it can be detrimental.  You don’t have to be kind to an abuser. Don’t feel like you have to spare them any trouble by sticking around or not going to the authorities.  You don’t have to be a stepping stool for everyone.  If someone is taking advantage of you then it’s perfectly fine to cut them loose.  Again, kindness starts with you.  You’re not doing these things to be hurt the other person, but more so out of thoughtfulness to yourself. Remember, you have to live the rest of your life as you. So you are your main priority. I know that sounds anti-Jesus because Christianity teaches us to put others before ourselves. But it’s not.  If you >over extend< yourself on behalf of others then you jeopardize yourself which is not God’s plan. If you’re exhausted, hurt (physically, mentally, or emotionally), and feel like you can’t see the light of day then you need to make some changes. Don’t think that’s God’s will. That’s not apart of the plan. Trials will cross your path and it can get downright uncomfortable, but there is a line between a trial and self-destruction. Know that line and don’t cross it.

I feel a bit better after I’ve made this post. I’d been carrying the frustration around all day. I didn’t even want anyone to talk to me about the situation with the married couple because it made me mad.  It’s not the easiest to admit that I was being judgmental and harsh because it makes me look bad, but I look worse in person so yea. Plus condemnation will eat you alive.  So it’s a relief to get it off my chest. With that being said, I am off to read more of Atlas Shrugged.

 

Warm Winters

Loneliness is such a vague term.  It’s a bit of magic.  A vase that appears empty, but possesses the weight of water. Even the sound of it sloshing about. Until it resumes it’s place on the table.  Then it is somehow empty once again.  In the city it’s infinite, providing company to the high rises and streetlights.  Though there is the absence of stars, the city rarely closes its curtains, there is always the presence of loneliness. You feel it when the neighbor’s dog barks as she rakes the yard. It rustles with the leaves as they are forced from their scatter into uniform piles, neatly in a row.  She gently reassures him as he races about, alarmed by the fall of every leaf or the crunch of any footstep.  He is allowed to enjoy the open space freely, subsequently banishing the neighbors from seeking peace in their own back yards. He simply can’t allow that.  It looms as cars zoom down the street,  speeding blurs of soft mahogany melting into the setting sun; their headlights gleam like shooting stars.  Not vacant, but faceless.  You find yourself wondering who they are or where they might be going.  Work? Home? To meet with another yearning soul who will graze their lips with dry kisses, cradle their faces in warm, damp palms?  Armory piles up on the floor beside the bed as they search within each other for companionship. Attempt to reassure one another’s vulnerability. But too late do they remember that it has been removed. Locked in fireproof safes, sealed away from danger alongside social security cards and birth certificates.  They leave these shadows further more from completion, housing deserts beneath their skins.  Water is nowhere to be found though it gushes from the hydrants while children run through the flood, barefoot with their guards down, doubling over in laughter.  It pools in craters in the yards after a spring rain. The grass drinks readily and flourishes even under the glare of the sun.  It follows the trail paved by the lines of stress or laughter in their faces as it escapes from expecting eyes. Dreamy eyes.  Wandering eyes.  And yet, it is somehow nowhere to be found.

In the country it is not much better. Quieter, dustier. But never better  Friendships dry up with the turnip greens during the summer’s drought.  Burst open with the crack of melons under the shade of the shed.  Never quite sticking around.  Who can thrive at all?  Who can live? What is there to expect? Hope for? Dream for?  This world is immense. Crawling with billions of people all looking. All waiting. Never quite knowing what for.  We occupy seats at the footballs game.  The smoke from grills and the stench of charred meat stick to our clothes so that we carry the game with us in our cars and to our homes.  Always carrying, seldom leaving.  Plastic nacho trays and balled up paper towels litter the bleachers.  Pompoms lay about like tumbleweeds waiting for a wind to send them spiraling.  We leave nothing of value.  We take the victory with us for a weak. A means to boast to our coworkers and relatives who cheer for opposing teams. As though we ran that play, caught that ball, intercepted that pass. Proudly modeling invisible jerseys that prove our participation.  We carry the losses with us for the season.  Even if there is another win, there will always be THAT loss. How could WE lose that game? Drop that catch? Overthrow that pass?  Too much time on our hands. We stroll to the corner stores, gather in parking lots. Huddle like vagabonds at the dam, stooped uncomfortably in the beds of pickup trucks. We invite classmates to palm our breasts. Rub our thighs in secret. Daring them to inch higher, higher until they reach the hem of our shorts. The boredom fuels lust. Always lust, never love.  Smoldering heat is everywhere. Invading. Breathtaking.  Rising as sympathy simultaneously dies the slow death of whitening coal.  We thirst for beers and sweet tea.  Wine coolers and kool-aid cups.  Walk down dead end streets on the heated black pavement behind strollers. Everyone is out. The air conditioner rattles and the fans circle in their rickety dance and yet the cool air comforts no one.  No one is inside.

The country folks itch for the city while the city folk itch for larger cities. Where shopping centers and restaurants clog every corner, every sidewalk leaving.  Each inhale is flushed with the aroma of clothes with the tags on and steak well-done.  Salt water and cologne. The traffic backs up for miles, filling the roads with clashing melodies, interwoven stories.  From the man behind the wheel of the oil truck. Growing sore as he switches gears as the truck gradually propels and stops shortly. He starts to sip from his coke, surely flat and lukewarm by now, stopping short as he feels a pang in his groin signaling the need for bladder relief.  He patiently relents, concentrating instead on not noticing the can.  The coke reminds him of the need for respite while the need pesters him about his perpetual thirst.  The car in front of his truck creeps forward, but a second later the brake lights illuminate the aluminum grill of the truck.  In the car a college student props up on the armrest, tapping her fingers anxiously. Her race from work to her night class has come to an exhausting crawl.  It’ll be the third time that she has been late.  Each time the manager posts the schedule she groans with exasperation.  Once again, she has been scheduled to get off at 5:00 though she made it clear that her evening class begins at 5:30. She buries her frustration in her apron pockets, grudgingly accepting the negligence. She needs the money. But she needs to pass this class, too. She glances at her nursing books in the passenger seat.  Her dream riding with her on the pages.  She fights the urge to buckle them in, so precious is it to her.  The need, the desire.  It must be protected.  She sighs and turns up the volume of her radio. The bass vibrates through her hands on the steering wheel.  The prayer for time to stop gets lost in the sound, but doesn’t die.  All around everyone sends up the same prayer to their gods, their universes. Each in a different voice. Perhaps there is togetherness after all.

You notice that you can reach out your hand to touch theirs from the car window.  Climb from your car and strike up conversation. It’s going to be a long wait.  The interstates and highways glow white, red, and orange.  A slow moving flame that can be seen even from the satellites.  The Earth is on fire.  The moon loses its shine. The stars dim in comparison. The wildfire inches forward, never back but then it breaks apart, shooting out like the embers of fireworks.  Each car breaks free, sailing towards unknown destinations. Pulling into dark driveways. Fluorescent grocery stores. The janitor makes his last round, mopping away the filth of the day.  Humming to the tunes of Ray Lewis playing in his ear phones. He doesn’t hear it. The vast noise all around him.  It is overwhelming loneliness, settling upon the city once again.

Wait till the end

​In the abyss between grace and starvation

Black with complacency
Midnight Blue
Indecision, indecisions
All becomes poison in the hands of the unskilled
The naive
Trust ever elusive
Steady silence
Solid Emptiness
The glare of whiteness
of ivory
Heaven’s beckoning light
No, it is no longer as pure
No longer virgin born
Colored with deception
Defilement
Baptized without repentance
Spring fourth from murky waters
Be ye clean
In thine hands
On thine helms
Of uncertainty
Insanity
Innocence
Questioning
Always questioning
What’s for dinner?

In Which I was Taught and Wasn’t

I’m trying to keep myself occupied while I wait for school to start (because at that point I’m going to be as occupied as I’m sure I can handle).  So I got this book from the library that I’m too lazy to go look at the title of. I mean, its on the table…I’m on the couch….too much distance.  What’s that the young whipper snappers say? First world problems? The book is basically about writing and gives some pretty interesting exercises.  I’m going to start doing the exercises on here because what is life? Who is John Galt?  The exercise I’m working on now is as such (the short Amberized version): Think of someone who influenced you greatly in life. 1. Make a list of things that said person taught you 2. make of like of things they didn’t teach you.  Vague? Yes I know. It was like that in the book too.  But I chose my brother to write about since he is mi amigo numero uno. So here’s my list.

Things JBB Taught Me

  1. It’s good to get out and travel; to know that there is something other than Mississippi, Casket Company, Thermos, small town gossip, or family as only friends and hardly that because they usually feed the gossip mill.  And travel will teach you that traffic really is much worse in other places.
  2. You can always make something out of nothing.  It can be slicing bananas and frying them in a pan of orange juice and serving it under the guise of a French delicacy.  Or sipping your sweet tea with your pinky out to add a touch of class to the collard greens and fried chicken you just ate. You and your cousins are fancy.
  3. Fun doesn’t stop just because you get older.  It’s completely possible to grow an awesome beard and still watch Dragon Ball Z and play Gran Turismo. Just make sure you marry someone who enjoys the same things so she can’t judge you.  Instead she’ll send videos of you playing an airplane simulation game in your suit jacket that you haven’t changed out of from church to your sister. And they’ll enjoy a good laugh at your expense. Look at that concentration. Land that plane, dude.
  4. It’s best to know God for yourself.  You can go to church for years, be raised in the sanctuary, attend every service (including the Church Anniversaries and the Choir Days that cut into your Sunday afternoons. Vital time. Lord knows you’ve got school tomorrow), be baptized or sprinkled before you can walk and still not know shit about God.  Read your own bible. Choose your own church, even if there isn’t a choir and music which, as you know, is hard on black baptists.  Know your own form of worship.
  5. You’re as good at something as you think you are.  If you want to be an engineer and someone says, “Engineering? You must be good at math!” then dammit you’re good at math.  Sure, you barely passed math in highschool and you may have struggled with Calculus. You lack basic study skills. But they don’t have to know that.  All they need to know is, “Yes. Yes I am.”
  6. Listen to all types of music. Country, Bluegrass, Rock, Jazz, Rap, everything.  Not for any particular reason. You’re a hipster. You can do that. Just enjoy it all.

Things JBB Didn’t Teach Me

  1. Love is complicated. You can love someone and not trust them with any fiber of your being.  You can love them and doubt that the love is mutual. It can feel as one-sided as you think it can.  And even when love is almost overbearing, consuming your every waking thought and bursting into your dreams like some masked intruder, it can be wholly difficult to express.
  2. Don’t listen to certain music when driving.  You already drive with two feet. You’re already a danger to society. Mixing in Rage against the Machine or Big Krit will only make you speed even more.  It’s like a direct link to how heavy your foot is on the petal. Don’t do it. Love yourself.
  3. One of these days you’re going to have the balls to tell someone you have feelings for them. And then you’re going to make the mistake of lying your ass off to impress them. Everything becomes exaggerated. You go from being unemployed, but training your replacement in how the computer systems work to officially being the IT person at your old job. Everything you think they want to hear is what you’re saying. You’re feeling scared and inadequate. Then you’re going to lose them because you didn’t believe in yourself enough to show your face. They’ll get tired of you not meeting them half way or wanting them to validate you. Validate yourself.
  4. You can always search for God in good things. Beautiful things. Honorable things. A pay raise. A new car. That picturesque sunset. But you’ll most likely find him at rock bottom.  When you’re blowing snot into your sixth tissue and crying in the bathroom while the shower runs so that no one can hear you.  When you’re skipping church on Sunday, laying in the grass catching a tan, looking up at the sky. Not because you’re trying to be one with nature. But because you’ve been looking mighty pastey lately. More so because you’re trying to disconnect from the rest of the world.  That’s when you’ll find him.
  5. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and everyone is beholding.  They’re going to look at the hyper-pigmentation, the black heads, the unruly hair, the shot glass figure, and they’re going to tell you that eh, you’re not that attractive. You’re going to blow money on Proactiv which is like crack for skin. Dye your hair. Dress differently. Invest in a push-up bra and squat like a sumo wrestler.  And even after all of that work, you’ll still hold onto that lingering feeling of being unattractive.  You’ve got to dig through all of what you’re not and find what you are.
  6. Always record your thoughts. You’re not going to remember it later. You’re lying to yourself.

Hope

There was something here even when there was nothing

Something not tangible

Not detectable

Not traceable

But here all along

Hidden in the darkness

With stealth

With purpose

Waiting to be found

Invisible to the naked eye

Always elusive

Forever escaping our grasp

That something begs that you hunt for it

Desires that you catch it midflight

Requires a chase

Dedication

Drive

It is not easily found

Nor easily retained once acquired

Because nothing will always drive its force deeper in deeper within

And spread its empire until it has conquered every square inch

But that something thrives in the midst

Even when it has shrank to a fraction of its size and worth

Waiting

Knowing

Believing that you will grasp it and shield it from all else

Protect it

Grow it

And thrive alongside

Because something was here even when there was nothing

And you’ve just got to find it

In Which I Need to Check my Email

I get so many spamular emails that I just really don’t even check my account anymore. Unless I’ve ordered something offline then…I check it everyday until my package ships. But remember how I said I entered a songwriting contest and didn’t win? Well…I didn’t win. BUT I was going through old emails and deleting them and found an email from the contest that was a week old. Turns out I was a semifinalist. You know how exciting that is?!?! For someone who is still an amateur songwriter this is so encouraging. I really wanted to win for obvious reasons (ya girl needs money for these braces…) but I kinda know that I’m not disciplined enough for the win. I wouldn’t know what to do if I were actually signed to be a writer. So I’m going continue practicing and try again. I’ve got another contest I’ve entered but the results don’t come until next year. But maybe one day I can play guitar well enough to actually add music to my lyrics.
That tis all….