Thursday, June 21, 2012
1. Biggest challenge to Obama's re-election bid: economy or racism or disinterested voters.
2. Sports: An underrated Kevin Durant or hyped LeBron James or proven Kobe Bryant.
3. Spoken word: Staceyann Chin or Nikki Giovanni.
4. Alicia Keys or Beyonce.
5. Obeying the Word of God or exercising God-granted free will.
6. Mothers Day or Fathers Day.
7. Expensive shirts or expensive pants or expensive shoes.
8. Which stage presence is more powerful: singer holding note or weeping sounds of guitarist.
9. More stunning: Kim Kardashian's backside or Rihanna's legs.
10. More stimulating: Intimacy or Great Sex.
Borrowed via one of my favorite reads Commentary By Valentina, a female blogger known for entertaining posts and engaging comments.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Today, I take the first step in admitting I was mentally, emotionally, verbally abused. I always stated how women are stupid for tolerating abuse, but, here I am, a victim of abuse, although not physically. I never wanted to talk to anyone concerning what I was going through. I was in denial and felt as if I didn't have anyone to talk or listen.
During the relationship with my ex, I felt like a child. I know it sounds crazy, but I did. I was always disciplined if I did something he disliked. He'd call me stupid for not thinking the way he did, and suggest I was incapable of thinking for myself. He used non-verbal communication to punish me, instead of just talking to me about things.
He tried to train me to behave in ways in which he wanted me to behave. He gradually made me feel differently about myself - diminished my confidence. When we'd hang out or go dancing at a lounge or club or just anywhere, it was like he was my bodyguard. I couldn't dare look at anyone without him making a comment. If a guy even said hello to me in passing, he would give him an evil look. I hated going out with him, I felt smothered. I was at a point in my life where, before I made a decision, I'd worry about him getting mad at me if I didn't make the decision he thought was best.
In essence, I could no longer think for myself.
I shared every single detail about my life, and I mean EVERY detail, because he made me think if I didn't, I'd be a liar. He tested me months later to see if I purposely lied about something in the past. He never told me everything about his life, yet he knew everything about mines. There were times when we broke up, but I still never felt single.
He was in my head, literally.
I was unable to love nor care for anyone else because he made me feel guilty for not wanting to be with him. Whenever I wanted to call it quits, he made me feel like crap for doing so. Like most women, we hardly want to hurt a man's feelings, so we go crawling back. Along the way, he caused me to lose friends as well.
After a crazy episode of verbal and emotional abuse, he expressed how much he loved me and would be very loving, the next day. It was the man I wanted him to be all the time. But he wasn't. I loved when he was nice and encouraging, but, in due time, he reverted back to being the controlling, abusive man. He made me feel like no other man would love me the way he did, and that all previous relationships of mines were fake and nobody ever really loved me.
The sad thing - I actually believed him.
I became a different person.. I became verbally abusive towards him. I was angry inside and hated myself for being in the situation in the first place. I hated him for making me feel trapped. I put him down, hoping he'd just go away. Instead, he would stay even after I said mean things to him. Our back and forth's had gone on for years, even when we were friends. It became worse as time progressed and we became a couple.
I once expressed my feelings to his own mother and she told me I made him this way. Which basically made things worse, because she pretty much gave her son a pass for how he treated me. She made excuses for his behavior and advised, "Hurt people hurt people."
I am sorry, but there is no excuse for a man abusing a woman.
Although we are no longer together, he continues to put me down and deliberately wishes me harm. It's unfortunate, due to our sharing a baby. Sometimes I still feel trapped because I am forced to communicate with him on behalf of our child, and he knows this. However, NOW, now I am able to really see this man for who he is. He's out of my system and I know everything he says are merely words and have no impact on who I am.
This man has everyone fooled in thinking he's the nice guy - normally, abusers hold the ability to make others think you are crazy for telling people they are abusive. He does not respect women at all. In fact, it's so true when they say how a man treats his mother is how he will treat you. I'm living proof of this statement being truth.
Moreover, I believe alot of women stay in these type of relationships because they are looking for love. They may not have felt loved within their household growing up so they look for that man for comfort. I think that was my situation, but that's the old me. I deserve happiness and I deserve to be respected. Sometimes I sit back and think about all the wonderful men I met while I was with him, and now that the good guys are either married or in a relationship.
At times I feel a little sad, but, it’s okay, I would rather feel sad than continue to be abused. For the women out here who may be in a similar situation, it will only get worse.
Get out of the relationship if you are being abused.
Monday, July 26, 2010
- Danyel Smith, this sista here, as down to earth as they come, is the sole reason why I created a Twitter account back in mid '08 when only a handful of people where on the social networking site. If good reads, great writing, and interesting nostalgia is your thing, then she is The One. I became hooked on her writing as early as '96 when she wrote the realest article I ever read, concerning her close friend Tupac Shakur. Her novels, articles, professional resume, Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr; all that ish is boss.
- Inception is a remarkable film with a very unique storyline. I recommend to all who have yet to see. Just when you think that you have witnessed, read or heard it all, here comes a screenplay which leaves you captivated, and discussing the plot long after the final credits have rolled. Think The Sixth Sense meets The Matrix.
- If you are on Twitter, as most are, I am sure there are many who will co-sign the fact that #Twitterafterdark consists of some interesting and humorous tweets during the wee hours of the morning. Weekends, especially.
- #wheretheydodatat: Here it is 2010 and I am amazed there are still people who turn their backs on the very ones who had been there for them, time and time again. If that isn't enough, these same people will turn around and be there for the ones who turned their backs on them in the first place.
- If I have ever learned anything in life: I have learned that society might discriminate upon the color of your skin, economic status, hairstyle, gender, beliefs, your troubled past, educational background, insecurities, whatever. But regardless of those supposed drawbacks, please understand one thing; the most important thing - they can never ever knock your hustle. I swear to God.
- Cool points to anyone who can name the recording artist who spoke these sentiments: "Mommas, don't let your kids watch television, until they know how to read. Or else all they'll know how to do is cut, fight and bleed. No child is bad from the beginning. They only imitate their atmosphere."
- CTG Writers Group: At the time I might not have had the know how or the means, but I definitely knew good stuff when I read it back in '08. So it's real talk knowing that Verbal Vixen, Muze, Jewells Avenue, have all signed and soon-to-be delivered published novels. These talented individuals changed the blog game, just as I felt each person could when I pitched the writing group idea. Myself and Rich are on the horizon in some aspect, I suppose.
- I am happy to see my long-time blog buddy and proven confidante writing again. This woman is talented and, more than that, as real as they come. She can mix it up with the best of 'em. I enjoy her much-needed flavor to the fullest and possess mad love for her, on and off the blogs. She knows me like no other blogger. Bar none.
- Looking forward to the getaway this weekend in Charlotte, North Carolina and all that it entails. I had hoped that Monique and I could meet and possibly enjoy dinner with a certain long-time blogger, but it doesn't look to happen. At least not this weekend, it doesn't. Anyways, I can hardly wait to comb the small/big city atmosphere and fill out a few sports writing job applications in the process. In other words; if they're paying, best believe I am staying.
- Lastly, I appreciate all who frequent Minus The Bars and offer discussion upon various subjects and views being discussed. I love reading andwriting blogs and value the emails that encourage me to keep posting - I will try to keep the blog updated, although I am on a break as we speak.
- I am writing a romantic short story. I have written two, actually - Tingle, a story about lost love and found friendship (which is so uncommon in these days and times), and A Few Stolen Moments, the story of a man and woman who meet on a blog, then again in real life during one unapologetic weekend, where his compassionate and her passionate yet caged spirit become decidely intertwined. Of course, it's based upon a true story. Look for one of these sometime in August (if Raquel Penzo so kindly provides the necessary edits *ahem*) as I look to see if I have what it takes to enter into the popular genre, since acclaimed author Omar Tyree decided to bury Street Lit, as he saw fit.
Monday, April 5, 2010
- Sheliza - pretty good blogger who brings a family aspect to the table, almost daily. I doubt very seriously if one can read her blog and not smile afterward, at something she posted.
- The Jaded NYer - witty, passionate and professional writer. If one blog could be transformed into a reality TV show, her blog would be that blog, hands down. A true New Yorker, if you ask me. Humorous. Her BlogTalkRadio is the bomb.
- SimplyChic - style and fashion blogger. Unlike any I have ever come across. Probably one of my most enjoyed blog visits. She actually wears the fashion, also offers an online Vintage Boutique. A fun blog.
- The Rich House - a couple years ago, me and this renaissance brother used to spar with one another in the boxing ring. We eventually realized our inability to defeat one another, so we accepted our calling as writers. Same flavor; his blog a little more polished than mines.
- pennanddpaperr - I recently came across this young sista's blog through Traci and, let me tell you, she is pure FIYAH. I am an unapologetic lover of Assata Shakur, the way she expresses herself in a vigilant yet completely intelligent manner. I believe this sista to be a younger version of Assata, herself.
- 1/3 - It came as no surprise that my daughter picked this young woman's blog. I asked why, and she stated how 1/3 appeared real and reminded her of a big sister. Plus, she enjoyed the music. A nice person.
- Commentary by Val - what few even realize, this woman is an old school blogger who owned one of the more popular blogs. She left the blogosphere, as I once did, only to return in a more peaceful and quieter setting. Same enjoyed substance, still.
- KimJohnson - another family-oriented blog. Offers a really good sense of humor, as well. A clean and quality blogger, she once blessed me with a picture of the exact location of where Tupac Shakur, cultural hero of mines, was gunned down in Las Vegas.
- Thoughts of A Southern Gal - my buddy, off camera. And it has nothing to do with the fact that she laughs at pretty much everything I say, either. She thoroughly entertains. Her five year old son is a younger version of comedian Chris Rock.
- Mariposa Tales - an excellent writer, poetic, vivid storyteller. This woman is truly gifted. She never disappoints. I recently read some prose on her blog that blew my mind.
- Be Still & (R)Evolution - the first two bloggers that I ever followed. Which is no coincidence. They hold the ability to transfer their thoughts and emotions through their words in a way that I have yet to see, blog-wise. Soul mates, they aren't really bloggers; they are more like artistic expression, if you ask me.
- PD3 - when I saw that my daughter had picked this blogger I was hardly surprised. When I asked her why she picked him, she said that "his blog was in good taste." A cool cat.
- She's So Flyy - I think this blogger brings something to the table that I have yet to witness on any other female blog. At one point she reminded me of a female version of Minus The Bars, 'cept more technically sound. An exceptional fiction blog, the game should be sold.
- TheMochaPeach - another excellent and humor-filled writer. Her blog surrounds real talk, period. From relationships to the wants and needs of an ATL female, to just some overall real ish, she delivers in a most appreciated manner.
- Thoughts from The QuietStorm - Exceptionally written blog. Whenever I visit her blog I know that I will be given the beginning, the middle and the ending of every subject in which she speaks upon. So fresh and so clean, as I once described her, Kay C. makes me want to take my shoes off, once I click onto her blog.
- 12th Planet - very smart and talented brother. He can give you the 411 on pretty much anything concerning sports, hip hop, relationships, family, and just life in general. He hosts an entertaining BlogTalkRadio segment.
- 25Champ - Very passionate writer and poet. He speaks on spirituality, love, relationships and inspirational messages. Compassionate. Driven.
- Daij - another passionate writer and poet. Probably the most slept on male blogger, if you ask me. One thing his readers are sure to become after reading his blog is enlightened and inspired. He always seem to find the best quotes, ever.
- Keith's Space - Can pretty much write about anything under the sun. His experiences in life gives him the ability to speak on it. Brings an experience on life, in general, to the table. Even poetry and fiction.
- Tia'sRealTalk - Sweet soul. I believe she would give her life and save the world, if it were remotely possible. But I wouldn't allow her to do so. Since, I know for a fact, the world cannot be saved. Probably one of the 144,000.
- JenniferWilmer - a poet and lover, period. This woman pours her heart into her poetry and her love of The Word. A different breed. I bet her readers wonder why she even visits my blog.
- Blaq Daisy - THE most slept on blogger, period. I cannot say enough about this woman's blog. She gives it to you straight up, no chaser, in the most intelligent fashion. Smooth. Educated.
- AlishaDeFreitas - Spiritual blogger. She is open and honest, yet she doesn't push her views upon her readers. She simply speaks the truth, all day, every day. Tweets scriptures bright and early, every morning.
- EdTheSportsFan - great, great site if you are interested in sports. The story behind the story. Ed and Kenny offer some of the most in-depth and thorough sports reads, bar none. Loyal readers; the comment section is filled with even greater discussion.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Unless you've never visited her blog Suite Bridezilla, or have been too busy in your feverish campaign for Barack Obama, then you'd already know that blogger Suite B. is about to take that step into a life filled with everlasting love and happiness in less than ten days.
Since she refuses to give me her mailing address in order for me to ship her wedding gift, I decided to write a blog post concerning that unforgettable moment.
Suite B. is a pretty cool blogger, she writes good blog post and leaves some of the most hilarious comments around the blogosphere. In that light, I thought what better way to express my congratulations to the soon-to-be newlyweds, than in comedic fashion.
Without further ado, here are the Top Ten Reasons why blogger Suite B. is getting married:
10) she's pregnant, and doesn't care to be referred to as 'my baby momma.'
9) her best friend Lea was thisclose to stealing her man.
8) her fiance is about to come into ALOT of money.
7) why not? everyone else is doing it...
6) it was the only way her parents would allow her to move out.
5) she finally found a man willing to marry her.
4) her fiance slid a quarter into a bubble gum machine, received a ring, then figured, 'aw, what the hell...'
3) she got tired of pretending to be married.
2) haven't you heard? ...the price of milk has gone up.
(get it? why pay for the cow when you can...oh, nevermind).
...and the number one reason why blogger Suite B. is getting married...
1) she realized that she doesn't want anyone else!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
- "...name a b*tch more cunty."
- young, energetic blogger
- her action-figure size (blogger da vinci's quote)
- her lolllipop post
- she don't "tangle or twist it"
- funny comments
- funny captions under picture posts
- forthcoming ask karrie segments
- her childhood YouTube video
- THE, meaning you might have heard about her
- can't keep up with all her aliases
- she spends most of her money on food
- hasn't came out with her KB doll, yet
- the fact that i haven't heard her song
- cyndi lauper won't let her remake this classic
- "so cunty, it hurts..."
- she keeps a shank on her
- she hasn't gotten her THE Karrie B. tat
- wonderland will never be the same
- nothing, really
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Disclaimer: this is a well-known joke which I turned into a "jackin' for blogs" post.
Once upon a time, not long ago, there lived a very wealthy man. Bill Gates wealthy. Like Gates, the older gentleman had money to burn. He possessed a giving nature. Each year he gave millions and millions of dollars to charity. It was his way of giving back to those who were less fortunate. For the past thirty years, charitable organizations across the globe received large monetary donations blessed with his signature. The annual routine. Until one day the mega-rich gentleman decided to spread his wealth, in...lets just say, a rather different manner.
He built a large swimming pool, approximately one hundred yards. The length of a football field. He filled the pool with alligators and crocodiles. Known maneaters. He stated how the first person to swim from beginning to end could name their price. "No amount of money was too much," he repeated. The catch - the gentleman wanted to ensure how the winner of this great wealth would be just as fearless as he were, while acquiring his great fortune.
Nearly the entire city came out to witness this extraordinaire event. Crowds of people surrounded the swimming pool. They looked over into the water. All they saw were the razor-sharp teeth of the awaiting alligators and crocodiles. It was almost as if they personally dared anyone to challenge their territory. Jewells looked over into the pool. "Who in their right mind would even think about swimming in this pool?" she quickly remarked.
"Not I. All the money in the world isn't worth my life." Verbal Vixen replied.
"O Hell Nawl!" shouted Slaus, leaning over to glance inside the pool. "A crazy bastard. He knows no one will dive in the pool. It's a publicity stunt."
Everyone agreed. It wasn't worth it. No one could survive the dangerous waters. The three women walked away conversing when, all of a sudden, they heard a huge splash. They rushed back to the pool. To their amazement, Slaus was in the deadly waters. The women were shocked. The entire crowd stood, horrified. They couldn't believe they were about to witness a man get eaten alive. "Stay away from me, alligators. Get back, crocodiles." Slaus yelled, punching and kicking his way throughout the pool.
"Dude, are you crazy? What the f*ck are you thinking?" screamed Kiki.
"I know, right?" replied Muze.
Arms and legs bleeding, Slaus ferociously pounded the bloody waters. Clearly, his life hung in the balance. The maneaters continuously swarmed him. He fought and fought. As he neared closer towards the far end of the pool, the crowd cheered. They now felt he could actually complete the challenge. "You can do it. Hurry!" Pocahontaz shouted.
"That's what I'm talking about. He got heart." Prettyblack stated, while everyone rushed to get a glimpse of the brave young man. Nearly twenty minutes after his death-defying swim, a battered and bruised Slaus arose from the water. Dripped in blood. His clothes and skin ripped. The wealthy gentleman was the first to greet him. "Congratulations. You did it. Whatever you want. Just name it. You want a bank?"
Slaus was extremely tired. He tried to catch his breath.
"I'm a man of my word. Just name it, and it's yours. A million dollars?" the gentleman repeated.
"I want..." replied Slaus, still trying to catch his breath.
"Speak up, young man. Just say it. Whatever you want."
"I want, I want...I want the motherf*cker who pushed me into the pool."
Thursday, March 6, 2008
- have you ever did something that even amazed you?
- what is your writing muse?
- what gets on your nerve as it relates to the opposite sex?
- do you bring up the past when you argue?
- who are you?
- do you bow out of any potential arguments gracefully?
- what is the best advice that you can give me?
- are you trying to be a better person?
- do you like the things that life is showing you?
- what do you love?
Friday, February 15, 2008
- If you thought the Grammy Awards were good, you haven't seen anything yet. The blog O Hell Nawl holds its awards show tomorrow. If you've ever paid a visit to this insanely hilarious blog, then you should have an idea of exactly what to expect during these blog honors. The awards show will be hosted by Coon McJenkins.
Yep, Coon McJenkins.
- lemme ask you something, when you make a comment on a post, do you expect a reply? If so, do you ever go back and read that reply? Just wondering.
nothing but love for:
1) bloggers who've kept it one hunnid with me
2) when someone tells me they feel my poetry
3) intelligent black women
- ummm, has anyone noticed how I've cleaned up the blog content on minus the bars? I guess this would be the perfect time to slip an R-Rated post in, wouldn't it?
- oh yeah, on days where you really don't feel like being bothered with blogging, you find yourself doing it anyways.
...that wasn't a question. It was a statement.
- whaddup, ebonne? RBW, y'all.
- whenever I hear the word, "chica," I think of monie. Damn, three bloggers from Cleveland all reached their 100th post in the same week. That has to mean something.
- If a blogger comments on my blog, I will return that favor. Eventually.
- I ended up losing one of my blog sisters. Yep, she don't f with "us" no more...
I still have one of the best blog sisters ever in poca, though. Day One blog love, right there. She's a sweet person with a similar sweet soul. Now, if I could just get her to stick to one profile pic.
I like this one best.
- I lost me blog partner in crime too. She called me wishy-washy. Whatever that means...
- Oh yeah, man, I don't know why everyone has this impression that I am this sensitive guy...I have compassion, but if it came down to it, you know like..."Your Honor, it was either him or me..." Trust me, I have no problem cutting your throat.
- I know, I know...I have way too many YouTube videos on my blog.
- One thing I have realized is that you find the same personalities on blogs that you find it your everyday life. And I will say unto bloggers the same thing I tell people every day...
...we really do need to put our heads together and get paid off this blog thang, cause no matter what you think we're all in the same game.
- I aint gon' lie, though...sometimes I am wanting the blog attention. And you don't? But I have to admit, sometimes it reminds me a little too much of how it was back in high school.
- Okay, so we're all blogging now...now what? Any one down to start another Jena 6?
...if, by chance, you didn't get that, the Jena 6 rally began from a blog. Yep, one blogger started that entire movement. Powerful ish.
- slaus and ambboogie? Oh, that's some straight up bonnie & clyde ish, there. All day...every day.
- lea and suite b...oh, they are thelma & louise. fo' real.
- Am I the only one who really doesn't feel like blogging after Tuesday? Just checking.
- I remember clicking on karrie b's blog once and it was nice & quiet. I go back about a week later and I couldn't even get in the door. People every f'ing where. I was like...damnnnnn.
- I find out more information and opinions on blogs than I do in magazines and newspapers and some books I've read. That's crazy, aint it?
...speaking of magazines, that dude, eclectik, he needs his own magazine...and radio station.
...speaking of books...the book, bloggers delight, is about to change the blogging game. If you are a great writer, with a story to tell, I suggest you get at 'em. Rich, CapCity, and Miz have paved the way for this blog outlet. Y'all don't even see it.
...aight, play with it.
- sojourner g, nikki, and saadia are some extremely talented poets, aren't they? And the way femigog writes will blow your mind.
- You know what I've noticed? How there are alot of young, interesting bloggers out here such as samii styles, james tubman, caesar cannon, musik.hipster, searching for my swagger, tweety, dappa, heather, kayla, -1-, adrianne e, 1/3 of what I used to be, desy, koffee dyme and dejanae. I don't think y'all ready for dejanae, though.
- SBC? She's real y'all. Well done, and sprinkled with a lil gangsta lean. And that much is evident once you read her hip hop blog.
- That dude, organized noise, oh, he stayed true to the blog game.
- gwyneth bolton, queen of my castle, sheila goss, and vivrant thing are the kinds of women bloggers that every male needs in his blog life.
- deanna and ticia, both, are sweet souls. deepnthought and jewells are very thoughtful human beings. minerva, the diva's thoughts and ms. behaving are always enjoyable reads.
- msP, her name alone sounds so sweet...just like fresh banana puddin'
- I still miss bottleblonde's blog. She was a monster blogger.
- now, afrobabe, is the only monster blogger left. gina is on her way.
- pretty black, andrea, kiki, lea and nikki are all intelligent black women. And they still don't give a f. I like that.
- I don't think mr. slish nor blu jewel will tell you nothing wrong.
- I like when pro comments on my post. Extremely witty personality.
- I purposely write some things that are wayyy out in left field. I am sorry to hear that some people don't pick up on what I convey. I don't know what else to say...but like Lupe said, "I aint dumbin' down ish."
- any combination of all-mi-t, mes deux, hardcore, and mp1 v.8.0 would make a solid blog ticket.
- ms. lady, she's in love...with KD.
- Fellas, y'all want to read something funny? click here. Muze went and told ALL our business...
- And lastly, what the hell am I doing posting comments on a knitting blog? virtuous is good peep.
- more good peep...
*sorry, ran out of time on the links.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
When describing my life, I always hear Sam Cooke's crooning of "A Change is Gonna Come" narrating the plot. For me, being "born by the river," was being born into some less than ideal circumstances. "And just like that river, I've been running ever since..." would accurately describe the 23 years following my birth that I spent running and hiding from unsavory parts of my past.
I created the image of Miss Perfect. A young, intelligent Black girl from the hood on the path to greater things. I excelled in all of my studies (graduated high school with a 3.98 GPA), participated in some extra-curriculars, worked part-time at the library, kept my nose in some book, didn't drink or smoke at all (until college anyway, but that comes later), and managed to remain a virgin until I turned 18. I earned a full ride to my first choice school (Wilberforce University, the nation's oldest private HBCU) and thanks to financial aid, never coughed up a single dime for my college education. I sincerely believed that Good Girls always finished first, and figured that I had a great head start in my race for the Good Life. And then I went to college.
College challenged and tested me on every thinkable level. I made the age-old cliched mistake of falling head over heels in love with the first guy who gave me a decent orgasm. Back then, I was so foolish to believe that he would reciprocate those feelings. I was, after all, the picture perfect college girl. Brains, beauty, style, ambition, and personality. Who wouldn't wife me up at the first opportunity, right? WRONG. I spent three years of my life giving my mind, body, and soul to a guy who only gave a fuck about me when we were actually fucking. (Horrible language, I know, but it was a horrible situation.) His consistent rejection of the best parts of me was a crushing blow to my self-esteem. I had never been reduced to just sex and it made me rethink every positive thought I'd ever had about myself.
Here, I had done EVERYTHING in my power to present myself as a lady my entire life, and I still was treated like a 'ho. On top of that, a seventeen-year relationship with the only father figure I had ever known came to an abrupt halt during my sophomore year. At that time, he'd begun dating some nineteen year old girl (I was twenty) with three children that he had moved into his home. I guess his love of pussy was much greater than his love of parenthood (Again, harsh language, but it was a harsh situation), so I was quickly cast aside.
Feeling unloved, unwanted, and undeserving, I slipped into a terrible spell of depression that lasted about a year, on and off. Can you imagine falling asleep every night praying that you wouldn't see the next morning? Or trying desperately throughout the day to avoid mirrors because you fear the lifeless soul that stares back at you? I can recall feeling lonely 24/7, even when I was in a room full of people. I literally wanted to die, and there were days that I spent hours planning my exit from earth.
Because God was on my side, I never physically acted on any of my suicidal thoughts. I would just fade into and out of these downspells whenever I was confronted with obstacles. After years of holding my own against life's circumstances, I was tired, and every little thing became the very end of my world. It wasn't until the middle of my junior year that I had finally had enough. During a six-week winter vacation, I became determined to pull myself out of my funk. I read every uplifting work by a black woman that I could get my hands on. It was then that I discovered and fell in love with Joan Morgan's When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost and Ntozake Shange's For colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enough.
I would stand in the mirror, reciting poems to myself (Maya Angelou's And Still I Rise, Nikki Giovanni's Ego Trippin, and Somebody Almost Walked Off With Alla My Stuff from For Colored Girls were personal favorites.) I listened to India Arie, Common (whose song "Ghetto Heaven" has become my official healing song for post-breakup pain), Erykah Badu, and LOTS of Mary J. Blige. In that span of six weeks, I discovered the swagger that would become my personal trademark. When I walked back onto the campus of Wilberforce University for the second semester of my junior year, my head was held high and I was ready for whatever life was about to throw at me.
Since then, I have endured many more difficulties. I have been heartbroken, broke, stressed, embarassed, terrified, and even a little lost at times. I have been forced to reevaluate myself and my values on more than one occasion. I've switched up attitudes and beliefs. In the course of it all, however, one thing has remained the same. I have always believed that I would eventually be okay.
Hard times are a part of God's plan, therefore no matter how difficult it gets, it's never more than I can bear. Coming out on the other side of adversity builds character and only brings me closer to my destiny. "A Change is Gonna Come" is the theme song for my life, because it is the ultimate testiment of faith. The verses of the song are dark and hopeless, like life can be. But if you notice, each verse always ends with "It's been a long time coming, but I know a change is gonna come."I have learned to triumph in my successes, find beauty in my struggles, and respect my mistakes.
My name is Robin Monique Thomas and because I am a SURVIVOR, I WILL NOT LOSE.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
This past Tuesday during my Off Top, Ten Likes and Dislikes post, under one of my likes, I listed Magnum XL condoms.
By now, anyone who really takes the time to visit my blog and interact certainly understands how my blog "gets down." Bloggers like my since Day One and faithful blog sistas Shwana, Ushana and my ever since blog female friends gwyneth, sheila, msP, lea, queen, ebonne, ticia, and my sneaky partner in crime Jasmin already know that , at times, I tend to say something simply to get an intended reaction out of people.
That's what I do. I am human. If you are scared, turned off or offended by me, don't call the police (re: stop snitchin') ... just simply go to Church. But you're probably going to end up feeling the same way upon your arrival there as well. If, as soon as you enter the House of Prayer, you see a couple ATM machines in the lobby area then, yes, chances are, you will become just as offended. In either instance, here or there, you are free to turn around and exit. You are minus the bars.
See, as a writer (and yes, believe it or not, I am a writer), not only do I enjoy touching upon certain soul-stirring and joyful emotions of readers ... sometimes, I purposely push buttons for the less heartfelt or comical reaction. No different than what my road dawgs Ambboogie and Slaus (aka Bonnie & Clyde) over at the laughter-filled and forever misbehaving blog O Hell Nawl endlessly accomplish. And quite well, may I add.
So in the spirit of what I try to accomplish here, I never expect for anyone to say "look at this negro" while reading the post. Which was exactly the feeling received after I stumbled upon a post so eloquently written and posted upon a wonderful christian brother's blog, Rich House. I admit I was stunned to see that my words (and others) were taken so serious when, in actuality, it's not that serious at all. Really, it isn't. I think to myself that maybe it wasn't necessarily that particular post which touched a nerve but some others included. Although I've come to realize that with some types of people you don't really have to actually touch a nerve. Like the truest words Tupac Shakur ever spoke, "Niggaz gon' hate you for whatever you do." As a child, my grandmother gave me the same advice. Back then, "It seemed a little unimportant. When she told me, I smiled. Picture (blu)jewels being handed to an innocent child."
As you can see, I am not a christian. So that means I live a sinful life. The same. sinful. life. Christians live. I am confident of that. No, wait, I take that back. Not all Christians, only the ones who judge others in their virtuous attempt to make themselves appear to be something that, if they were truly that deal, it wouldn't have to spoke upon anyways. It would be learned. During my past, acquired, street life-learned knowledge, I always cut out the middle man. Or fear God, and not them. To be honest, "We're probably in Hell already ... our dumbasses not knowing." I think about ish like that when I am in eclectik relaxation mode or deep thought. No, I am not as deep as sweet poets like sojourner or saadia but still I am deep in mental capacity and thus overflowing with substance. If you don't think so then feel free to prove it. You don't know how? Why not? You seem to think you know everything else about me.
Furthermore, I am about money. The root of all evil. I do not love it but I definitely need it. Way more than I could ever need love. Through my poetry blog I forever express my feelings towards love. At the same time, I thoroughly understand thy many ways I can reassuringly live without it. You better ask somebody. Being loved or hated is cool with me either way. Just as long as the monie is in the middle of those two emotions which I so passionately provoke. See, I am real. And I didn't ask to be real. Apparently, I was born this way.
Anyways, if there is nothing I have learned since the ultimate betrayal which led to the fatherly loss of my two little, lovable sable eklektiks (re: kiara and jameelah), I have learned how human beings do not have your best of interest. Only their best of interest. And I rather that. There's no question how I fully understand the way you have to get yours the same way I have to get mines. In other words, I aint trippin' ... just do you cause I do me.
If you don't like it then fine ... pay me no mind.
Because in the extremely painful and vengeance-filled moment where I realized that showing love will get a person shot through the heart quicker than a bullet, I wholeheartedly digress. Truthfully, no matter what else takes place within my life, good or bad, I have come to accept the fact that there will lie an emptiness within my heart which I have to live with each and every day of my life. One in which only someone who has experienced stolen joy will ever understand. So in that cold spirit, I could care less what the next man or woman negatively thinks about me. Nevertheless, I do offer respect. In return, I seek respect. You don't have to "like me." I like me. So trust me when I say -- your like is never what I seek.
I could go on and on but I won't. Besides, I have to hurry and get over to cute mouth Sage's blog to read her well-written article on ex-pro football player Michael Vick. So I will attempt to get right to the point. Those who have rapped with me through emails or phone conversations pretty much know that I speak from my heart. I've always spoken from my heart. That's just who I am. And I imagine I have reached the age and gone through enough trials and tribulations in life to rationalize where I created regrets, in my life, as well as the lives of others. Unlike you, I am not perfect. No one is perfect. (re: I forgive your foul act).
Also, when I created this blog, it wasn't created with any thoughts of finding a soulmate, wife, fcuk friend, friend, enemy or long lost relative on it. I created it for the simplest reason of them all - personal growth. In my less than 4 months of blogging and overall trying to live life right, I have come across some of the most engaging people who, next year, I am sure I will have the pleasure of meeting. A couple, anyways. I didn't step on the scene to find love. Love is not what I seek. Contrary to popular belief, I love myself. And after what I suffer through daily, I don't even think I want a relationship, let alone a marriage. I just want to live my life.
Can I live?
This is just a blog. A blog.Nothing I say is going to change the world. After I read about the violent deaths of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, I understood clearly how the battle to change the world is not mines. It's not yours either. If you just have to change the world then go right ahead. I'll watch
Another thing, I don't think any of my pretty black, beautiful renaissance sistas or attractive bottle blondes were at home pulling their thongs down due to what (you think) certain people may feel my post represent, or should I say mizrepresent. These women have more respect for themselves. When someone makes a preposterous pondering towards these women perhaps not having "sense enough" as far as common sense goes, it not only insults mines but it also insults their intelligence as well. Not one woman looked at the image and thought to themselves "...ooh, Magnum XLs" and fell in love. Any man who was a once upon a time "true player in the game," but eventually shunned that lifestyle and now lives the life of a happily married and perfect man can tell you ... love is a little bit deeper than that. But then again, I could be lying.
As for the post itself, when someone made a comment about my slish not really being that big, I quickly admitted to this. For the most part, no, I am not the captain of the ship, but again I will say "I am on the boat."
In the end, as a writer, I have been taught to welcome any and all criticism. But at the least I felt that, in these days of sexually-transmitted disease, I should have been given credit for spreading safe-sex awareness. And not going raw dawg. But then I forgot how, nowadays, people seem to only ever notice the bad about people. Like they are perfect or something, while others are simply the wretched of the earth.
And that's exactly how gossip begins.