Truth Serum

The glossy version of the truth carries with it a sweet cocktail, a little refreshing anecdote, a sprig of mint, and a twist.  Sometimes fruity, sometimes tart, coolly carbonated and pleasant to sip.  Drink it in; it goes down smoothly.

However...

The dark thick grog, with pungent smell and uneven texture, which takes a rough-traveled journey down the throat of its recipient--the unaltered, unsweetened and bitter truth--the real raw deal, although hard to swallow--is better than the fruity twist of covert innuendo, subtle suggestion, and undercurrent agenda.

Give me the truth and nothing but the truth. Unfiltered, no ice, no lemon or fruit to chase the rich bile of truth, which burns going down, but cleanses the soul.

.

Give me that.

Straight, no chaser.
Brilliantly constructed, wholly offensive truth. 
Served raw. 
No salt, no pepper, no sugar.

Just...the truth.

Serve me the truth. 
raw, unpalatable

It may not taste good going down
But it will purge and disinfect, 
Making me better for having taken its dose.

Truth serum - no ice. 

I8.02.13

~The Dance

The 20th of never has arrived.

Here I sit in my fancy dress and dancing shoes.

No one asked me to the big soiree.

I guess they figured I already had a date??

Typical "Sixteen Candles" tragic, romantic plot.

Supposedly, the guy of my dreams is sitting somewhere with a suit and tie on, wishing he'd had the courage to ask me to the dance.

In true tragic useless romantic form, he's waiting for me, but hasn't the guts to let me know.

Maybe he'll find me, come out of his protective shell and invite me into his forever.

We deserve each other. We've both been all dressed up, nowhere to go, and waiting.

Sounds and Whispers

In a clear moment, when I have no idea what to say...

My heart expands with emotions untilled-
a frustrating, aching proposition
of moral tides
and faint whispers
of words unsaid and feelings not uttered
and of circumstance shattered,
of keen hopes battered.

 
 Languor and anger
and hatred and strife
to tell of a toll on stretched, unfettered life.

Why are you here?
I thought you had left,
literally taken a left
taken a break
and yet...
here you stayed.

Wide-eyed and wondering 
a heat-barren post
devoid of the hope
for which it stands
for you are, by far, no ordinary man.

Light and ritual
have teased our hopes, 
our declarations, once bold type-face,
now laden with heavy ropes.

Ransacked visions,
fragments of resolve
Deep crease of grimace
Smile lines dissolved...

These pieces of a dream--
this equation we wrote
symbolizes vague symbolism 
of things we reach to be.

A hidden approach, void of pain or vanity, 
the expectations we hold so true--
the escobars and minotaurs that lurk,
hidden from view.

Why should it matter, 
the whens and the whys?
Because a glimpse of redemption
could lighten these blood-black eyes.

A glimmer to force the courageous shoulder back to the grindstone again
Brief freedom from the litany 
A syncopated rhythm flashes across the window pane.

Gleefully smitten, and washed about
Handsome hands, gallant arms,
soft warm lips that speak no harm.

My sweet, safe dream
and the wings to bear it
The life I crave; the love to share it.

Time capsule unearthed
by wind and stealth
Inside of you, I find myself.

When the wind chimes meet 
their conquering breeze,
This bliss shall set your mind at ease.

That moment the chamber is gently unlocked,
Time will shudder
and stop the clock.

No time, no space or chronology,
no baited effort to make mockery of me.

No prism of light
to cast anger or blame
it is you; it is I; it is we again.

Let's capture this rapture in our souls-
they are the same.
Breathless and guilded, you reach for my frame.

Textured and glistened the stone casts our claim:
The mastered dominion of what is ours to maintain.
In Gestation-the sound has cleansed away his pain.

The #Real Deal

Guess what I just heard??

"There's all kind of good black men on BlackPeopleMeet.com." Really? Not so sure.

More often than not, people pretend to be something they're not on social networks. Sometimes it's not just that they stretch the truth to make their lives seem better than they actually are (even though that's a prevalent social network disease--Facebook Fakery, Twitter Tall-Tales, Instagram Impersonators).

Often, the face you see on the profile is #not even the person who owns the account. It's very easy for people to steal people's pictures/identity and pretend to be someone else via the Internet. Beware. The "Catfish" is real.

My Grandma Rose (R.I.P.) used to say to me, "There are some good men out there, but you got to see the person for who they are; you got to get to know they ways, Baby. Otherwise, you don't really know who you got." Wise lady.

There's something to be said for cultivating relationships the old fashioned way. A lot of the marriages who began from a simple "hello" in person are still thriving today.

Technology is great, but should never replace good ole' fashioned one-on-one, interpersonal interaction. Everything else, in my opinion is just a watered-down connection, and nowhere near as potent as the real thing.

So, to Match.com, Blackpeoplemeet.com, and yes even to you, ChristianMingle.com: I've seen the numerous commercials with all kinds of attractive people who supposedly met and built successful relationships through online dating sites. But, I'll pass. Thanks.

Talking in person: For when you want trout and not #catfish.

#CountTheCost
#YouCanNeverGoWrongWithTheReal

invited 
into an elite fellowship

of the broken and battered and bruised
called to connect myself 
with those of unfortunate fate
buried in shadows of pain and regret.

Those "they" forgot,
left with no recourse, no options, no hope.

No way of knowing how the tide would turn in their favor.

Weakened by difficulty,
stretched by adversity,
black-widow pasts, 
witless windows closed,
doors slammed in faces,
tear-stained remembrances of 
being dumped, dropped, dissed, skipped over and left behind.

I understand,
I empathize.
Cried bitter tears 
from weary eyes.

Looked past the possible,
head dropped in defeat,
channeled disappointment 
to duty-bound retreat.

I see your efforts.
Your wounds are real.
Dim expectation
for your heart to heal.

Drunk with bile,
reduced to gangrene
as rich blood spills 
from your broken dreams.

Banished from care,
Rejected by peace
Discharged from warmth
No sign of release.

Aching from angst
Dripping with fear
Clinging to confusion
Dodging the jeers.

Drenched in delusion
Bleached by the fire
Bludgeoned and bitter
From stillborn desire.

My kindred society
of the damaged and doomed
Yet a sliver of hope
from the distance looms.

Hold on, my friends, 
we shall find our repose
We are gems in disguise
yet no one knows.

Once we reach our oasis.
recompensed once for all
Vindication is waiting
For wrongs big and small.

We just have to get there;
why should fate be so cruel
to disallow us our right
to turn fire into fuel.

There has to be better,
waiting just beyond this wall
This barrier of afflictions
that has stunted us all.

It will all be better
When exoneration ensues.
And the brisk hope of sunshine
Beams down on these bruises.

The Richness in Experience

I've been reading some old journal entries lately, and needless to say I have been through a lot of thoroughly-documented emotion.  It's amusing to look back at the thoughts I had from 8 or 10 years ago about my life and the direction I thought it was taking.

It's also interesting to find that I am in some of the same predicaments and situations now that I found myself in 10 years ago.  Does that mean I haven't changed? No.  Does that mean I haven't grown?  Not at all.

What it means is that "the more things change, the more they stay the same."  Basically, a lot of factors in life don't change.  People remain selfish, life remains unpredictable.  People argue over politics and religion.  They eat too much, drink too much, indulge in all manner of insatiable appetites, yet are still unhappy.  We always want what we cannot have, and are ungrateful for what we do have.  Love is a crapshoot.  Humans are flawed.  Life is but a moment.

All of these things have remained the same over the years.

What has changed is me.   My perspective has changed.  My approach to life has been twisted, turned, bent, broken, and rebuilt.

There are still many things about this life that I do not like.  However, I have chosen not to hinge my happiness on the choices of others.  I still get upset when I am mistreated. I still get frustrated with injustice.
But I have accepted that these things exist and that I will continue to encounter them until I die.

My focus is less on what others are doing these days and more on what I will choose to do in response.  I am angling my efforts in the direction of progress.  If it doesn't bring progress, I don't want it.

I still have much to learn.  And I realize that being so passionate about life has been both a blessing and a curse.

Regardless of who and what has come and gone in my life, I am still here.  Still evaluating, still navigating, still moving swiftly past trouble into peace. I am learning to be patient with people, and with myself as well.

I am grateful to see a positive change in my life; I'm reaching for better days and a happier heart.  A glance back at my old self gives me a sweet smile of accomplishment.  I am grateful for the lessons I've learned and for the how they have molded me into a better person.

One day, I'll look back at the person I am now. More years, more wisdom, more experience will have been added to me. Exponential greatness awaits; it's been a bittersweet journey thus far.

Perfectly Angry & Bitterly Single in 2004

*This is journal entry from 2004.  I came across it and the perfectly-articulated anger just had to be shared... LOL.  It wasn't funny at the time, but it's amazing what we deal with as singles trying to find our "other half".

Saturday, 2.7.2004

Okay.  So much for being content.  Today blew up in my face like a set of roman candles.  I woke up this morning feeling really sad, not wanting to get out of bed and start my day.  I just thought if I could lay in the bed, maybe I could escape my reality for a little longer.  Maybe when I woke up, things would be different. 

Now, mind you, it’s not that my life is all that horrible.  I have a great mom, who is very supportive.  She doesn’t pressure me about when I’m going to get married and give her some grandkids.  She’s single and unattached like me, and she knows how challenging it is to be found by the right guy. 

I like my job okay (I guess).  School is coming along great.  Sometimes the pressure of it all is a bit too much, but I admit that I do take on a lot.  I am actually bored without a lot to do.  Even with working full-time and going to school full-time, I’m still bored a lot. 

My family is cool.  My brother and I are really close.  We don’t get to talk often, but we have a bond that thrives without a lot of conversation.  I have some good friends.  Quite a few of them are all anxious about getting married and having children.   Most of them are a little older than me, so perhaps their biological clock is ticking a little louder than mine.  They say I’m lucky to be 28.

Truthfully, I really don’t have anything to complain about.  I am thankful that all my basic needs are met—I am healthy, and I have a bright future ahead. I guess that’s just how humans are.  We can have a good life, but still manage to find something wrong with it. 

Yesterday, I was content with being single (meaning being unmarried and not having a boyfriend).  Today, I’ve been pissed about being single.  Talk about mood swings.  I woke up feeling sad.  I felt like crying.  Then, my mom said something, and we started a conversation, and I started crying.  She was talking about how she’s been praying for me because she could tell I was depressed.  I have been depressed for almost 2 weeks now.  

I have moped around, been kind of quiet.  Eventually, I got sick.  I have had the stomach flu for the past week.  After having the stomach flu, I developed some sort of gastro-intestinal deal, caused by too much acid being produced in my stomach.  All last week, I lay around in the bed, too sick to move, and too sad to want to.  Now that I am better, I have to get up and start moving again.  This sucks.

It’s not that I have to have everything I want.  I don’t think it’s that bad.  I’m not one of those people who thinks the world is all about me.  I do notice other people.  I do see the pain in their faces.  I pray for them.  I wish that I could help them more.  I am not one of those selfish people with their head up their own rear airbag.

On the contrary, I try to think of other people.  Do I try to help for the sake of helping them?  Or do I help so that I won’t feel like a selfish blowhard?  A valid question—one I don’t know the answer to.  All I can say is that I’m not callous or self-absorbed.  I do care about other people.

Part of the problem is this whole notion that I have to earn the right to have a husband and kids.  I don’t know where that comes from, but I have had a twisted thought that God is watching to see how many selfless acts I commit, and after my ____th one, He will answer my prayer for a family.  That is totally nuts, I know. 

It’s like those tickets at Chucky Cheese’s—you have score up enough tickets to get that big prize you want behind the counter.  Where did I get that from?

The only thing I can think of is my childhood. Yeah, everybody blames their dysfunction on their childhood.  I’m not blaming my childhood.  I’m just suggesting that maybe this is where the thought originated. 

When I was a kid, my parents would reward me for getting good grades, or they would let me get a new dress if I was going through a particularly rough time with something (i.e. being picked on in school, etc.).  That was probably not a good habit for me to get into, but it worked at the time. 

I don’t know what to say.  I am so pissed that I can’t have things the way I want them. I guess today was nothing more than an internal temper tantrum.  Well, it doesn’t feel any less real just because I’m 28 years old.  

What sucks is to really want something and to not be able to do anything to get it.  

I want more than anything for my friend (soon to be ex-friend) of 15 years to tell me to my face why he has chosen to run away from me.  Why he takes the chances he has to eff around with my emotions when he sees me, just because that’s what he wanted to do.  I guess it felt good for him.  He has totally disregarded my feelings, and hasn’t even turned around to say why.  

I think he owes me an explanation.  Now, all the self-help books as well as my mom would say that no one owes me anything.  I beg to differ.  Friendships are non-verbal agreements.  If you are friends and have any type of real connection, you should be bound by that bond and treat each other with decency and respect.  People want to be your friend and get all the perks that goes with it.  But, as soon as accountability comes into play, they’re ready to bail.  Then, they don’t owe you anything.  They take your best and leave you hanging.  It shouldn't be that way. 

The truth is, that’s the risk I took.  I gave J another chance at friendship, when he’d already shown he was skillful at running away.  What he doesn’t seem to be good at is closeness and candor.  He has run from me off and on for years now. I should never have given him the opportunity to bail on me again.  He is very good at that.   I was just stupid enough to believe that things would be different.  Even my mom thought things were taking a different turn.

So, what do I do now?  Continue to blame myself and hate him?  I don’t guess that’s a feasible plan.  

Although, I would love to tell him face to face how many nights my tears have burned my face and soaked my pillow.  On the other side of him taking the easy way out, there is someone else whose feelings are getting hurt.  Talk about selfish.  I’m the selfish one who only wants what I want?  I would never leave someone hanging like that. Get all emotional and attached, say a bunch of sh$%* they don’t intend to back up, and then split.   

What an @sshole.  My time would’ve been better spent knitting a blanket.  I hate investing my time like that and people don’t even give you the decency of facing you and saying, “You know what,______” whatever goes in the blank.  I should never have given him the chance to bail on me again. 

The sad part is, I am sitting here, pissed off at him.  I have no way to even let him know what a loser move I think he’s made.  I have no knowledge of whether or not things will ever be made right.  Someone has done me wrong.  And the sh$%* is still gaping open.  That’s what I hate about this situation. 

I really wanted for J and I to have something.  I thought we were great together.  I had fun around him, and I thought he was having fun around me.  We laughed, we talked.  He’s an intellectual, and so am I.  I thought that we could build the years of friendship we’ve had into a great relationship.  He’s dumped me out of the picture, with no explanation.  Won’t even face me.  Chicken sh$%* @ss.  I think I deserve better than that. 

And now, I swallow the brick in my throat and go on.  That’s what everybody keeps telling me.  Easier said than done.  Not to mention the fact that I don’t see any wonderful guys ready to take the spot I had reserved for J. I don’t see a line full of handsome, intelligent bachelors who have known me for 15 years, waiting to step up to the plate.  I don’t really see anyone ready to step up to the plate.

J. had the perfect profile. Cultured, smart, witty, driven.

We had the perfect story. Our decade-plus friendship developed into something more. He just didn’t seem to have the balls to just go ahead and have an effing relationship with me.  I don’t see what the big d@mn deal is. 

My mom says it’s narrow to just look at things from your side and not consider the other person’s position.  I have considered J’s position.  But since he won’t talk to me, and hasn’t used his opportunity to talk about what’s going through his mind, his position gets no airplay.   I don’t give a d@mn about sh$%* that he won’t even talk to me about.  If he’d rather trash me with no explanation, that’s his choice.  But he can’t say I haven’t given him the opportunity to tell his side.  He’s refused to talk to me at all.  Let alone have any dialogue about our relationship.  So f*&% him. 

Go on with your life, Kim.  You’ve gotten pretty good at doing that.  You get so caught up in the prospect of something that might happen but ends up not happening, that you are used to people telling you, “Just forget about it,” or “Go on with your life.”  Yep.  

Once-a-d@mn-gin, pick up your shattered dream of companionship with yet another guy, and “go on with your life” until the next @sshole comes around and wants to treat you like garbage.  Sure, that’s what we all live for.  A guy to ignore us.  Not call at all.  Leave our weekends empty and dateless.  You’d think that’s what I’ve been praying for, ‘cause that sure seems to be all I’ve been getting.  Since M, that is.  When was that, ’98?

Whatever. I don’t see how I’m just supposed to act like all this sh$%*  doesn’t matter to me.  Skip to my loo and my boring life with a bunch of papers and homework and students and sh$%*.  No fun for me. No cologne in my weekend.  No dates to take to parties.  No strong arms to lean on.  No car doors opened for me.  But I should be perfectly fine with that, right?  After all, companionship is not a necessity.  It just feels like it is. 

It is just so totally disgusting for people to tell me that I shouldn’t want something that I genuinely want.   Then, to offer me all those d@mn consolation speeches, “Oh, just finish your education first.”  I’ve got at least 4 years before I finish my primary educational goals.  That will put me at the ripe age of 32. 

I don’t think there’s a reason people can offer me as to why I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend.  They can’t say it’s because I’m too picky.  I’m not picky, I’m selective.  Besides, I don’t see a line of guys waiting to ask me out any d@mn way.  I can’t tell you when someone asked me for my number.  Not even the jokes of guys ask me for my number anymore. Not that I would give it to them, or be flattered they asked.  Guys like that don’t even count. Dudes with no goals are a dime a dozen. I refuse to even spend time with someone like that.

My mom said today, “I just don’t think you’re timing has come yet to meet the man you’re going to marry.”  Well what the hell is he waiting on?  I’m not a teenager.  I’m not misguided or clueless or naïve.  I have done some things in my life, and I don’t think a boyfriend is too much to ask.  If J would uncurl from the fetal position and get it together, all this could be worked out. 

His feeble @ss can’t be what’s holding my life up.  That’s actually a ridiculous notion.

What now?  I am called upon to swallow hard, ingest the BRICK in my throat, and go on, as if none of this has affected me.  After all, poor J. Poor J. who has so many issues.  Pray for J.  Keep praying for him.  He needs your prayers. 

The other person always gets the sympathy and understanding.  The benefit of the d@mn doubt.  Not me.  I’m just being selfish and spoiled.  And he’s not?

Whatever.  I can’t continue this way.  I don’t want just a boyfriend.  I’ve wanted J in my life.  I can’t say that I want to go “out there” and just start dating.  I’m not for that.  I usually rely on God to bring people in my life.  I don’t go and get people.  That’s why I get so pissed when sh$%* blows up like this.  

I’m not out here whoring around.  And believe me, it’s not because I don’t want to sometimes.  I try my best not to even entertain that notion.  I stay away from these guys cause most of them will have your clothes off you before you can blink.  Is there any reward for doing things this way?  Or would I be better off to be up under a different man every night.  

I mean, you act like I want to be sitting up in this room by myself.  Like I just chose J. I just went out there, found him, and manufactured feelings for him.  My Mom was the one who told me I needed to deal with how I felt about him.  Why, so I could be devastated right now?  I just don’t understand.  The nausea in my stomach is because I have been digesting bricks—I  don’t understand it, but I am trying to thank God for whatever the lesson is in this....