tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-339231522024-02-28T09:31:11.034-06:00So Fa RealLiberating thoughts and bearing the SOul of a young, spirited, but rebellious brotha, who leaves no challenge in life without a fight, yet always searching for peace of mind.SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-54507914826182956742008-12-11T09:31:00.005-06:002008-12-11T10:28:20.229-06:00Hello to everyone and to my blog itself. Its been a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">minute</span> since i last blogged....some things have changed...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ive</span> gotten busy with others.....but here i am now.<br /><br /><br /><br />Nothing too special <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">occurring</span>....although i said some changes have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">occurred</span>, my life is still uneventful. But <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">I'm</span> working some things out and trying to get ahead in life. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">That's</span> what its about...sacrifices and change.<br /><br /><br /><br />My mother found out that I was gay....<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">really</span> crazy story. It still amazes....her reaction to it all. You expected dramatic, un<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">accepting</span> mom...but what I got was this devil....evilly conspiring to rid me of this world. She cursed me, denied me....ripped out the love that she supposedly had for me....but i never really believed it. You know, i just always accepted the fact that mom is not always n the house, but she sure is on the fucking table, as these <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">ramen</span> noodles <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">I'm</span> eating. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">That's</span> my moms love, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">right</span> there! I eat love for breakfast, lunch and dinner....and sometimes a snack. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Y'all</span> already know she just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">wasn't</span> there. So, love to me is like in another world. It <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">don't</span> mean shit to me.<br /><br /><br /><br />Sometimes I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">think</span> i want <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">to be</span> in love. But <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">I'm</span> always so sure....i mean, it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">doesn't</span> have a foundation with me, so how do accept it so easily. You know, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">I'm</span> vulnerable to it in the sense that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">theres</span> no barriers in front of me to protect me from it. I hear it hurts, pains, makes one weak....makes one silly to do odd things!!! <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">I'm</span> afraid of that....and more more, I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">don't</span> know how.<br /><br /><br /><br />Since I been sexually active, all i know is flings and one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">nighters</span>! Its sad, but its all i know...all i was ever taught. You see, I grew up developmentally in Atlanta. Atlanta <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">don't</span> give a shit gay <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">bois</span>....yea, we probably pay over half of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">metroplexes</span> property taxing and shit....I mean, we are everywhere n Atlanta. So, you know when i started coming into my own....i knew i was looking pleasure....but more so, i like to say "Satisfaction..." To me that sounds a little more classy, and u can use it in any situation. I was looking to be completely and utterly....made whole, made complete....not longing or without. That what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">satisfaction</span> is....it means....<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">I'm</span> so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">full</span>...that<em> i <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">don't</span> want for more!!</em><br /><br /><br /><br />And you know, in the media they portray gay men as weak, sissies....like women. Women take dick....women purr over men....and so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">thats</span> what I thought i was as well. A <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">felion</span> purr and preying for men....who needed so dick.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Thats</span> what love became for me....dick....tasting it, swallowing it, taking it....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">condomed</span>....<em>raw....</em>wherever, whenever, however, with whomever!!!<br /><br /><br /><br />This is all what I know love to me....this life Ive let in intimacy and relationships is without life...is a death!!It is nothing.....love is nothing!<br /><br /><br /><br />So, when i find men who actually are something....and this is all the time, i know it......you know, when this happens <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">im</span> all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">okayed</span>....lets go for it....lets make a partnership...a relationship. Then , it comes around the time when u start to have feeling for the next person...they are falling. I am not. I have no connection to people. I make no attachments. Yes, there people and moments that I will cherish for a long while....but nothing stay with my heart....I have heart....I have a heart....but it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">doesnt</span> accept. There are many credible moments in life that belong......but they sit on the heart....and never rest....never enters my heart. So, i <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">dont</span> know how to let go and let people ride away into my life. It frustrates me because I know I need and even want that for myself....but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">im</span> not so certain <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">im</span> capable. How do I unlock my heart....its like I locked it...and threw away the key, without a thought as to "maybe someday i might actually want to opened again!"<br /><br /><br /><br />So, what I been lately is this charades of meeting guys, wooing them....even getting to the point now of actually courting them...then, i get bored. stop. and move on. There things guy I been seeing for the past...well since the day before Thanksgiving. You know, hes a sweetheart....real kind, has gorgeous face and smile....nice qualities. I like him...i really do. And I can see use going somewhere, possibly. He asked me to have sex with him last night...I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">didnt</span> want to....But you know, he said I put him in a mood to want some dick. So I gave it to him. The bad part.....yes, I think it was to soon, but the worst part of that....I loose interest after early sex...or sex period. I mean, I been seeing this guy for almost two weeks, but I wanted us to sustain....to see if I can actually do that....and maybe see love down the way. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">So,</span> we will see what happens with that.<br /><br /><br /><br />On the other hand, I have this other friend right now! Real cool, real nice....genuinely a sweet guy! He's 27 and a complete top. You know, when I met him....you know it was understood what was going to happen between us regardless of anything else....we were having sex....and that was that. No feelings. None of that. So, he's top right....and I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">didnt</span> mention <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">DL</span>. Like absolutely no one knows about him!!! Not even his closest friend....his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">roommates</span>...no one. So, its rare that I see him because his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">roomate</span> is hard to get rid of....so maybe twice a week I see him....we freak....and its some of the best dick I ever had....lol....Like I know that really out there....but this <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">niggas</span> dick is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">soooooooo</span> right....like I twitch and shit thinking about it. Image!!!! But yea, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">we</span> have fucked <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">around</span> like 4 times....really great. But <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">Im</span> also keeping this going while talking to Dude A. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">Im</span> not even so sure I wanna give let that go....and neither is he....he loves to be with me!!!<br /><br /><br /><br />And then. lastly, there's a Dude C. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">Havent</span> met yet, seems to genuinely interested in me, thus far. He's like 27, as well. Cute....killing body! Excited about that. But he could be a combo of Dude A & Dude B. Which would ultimate. He's a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">vers</span> top....so that might work out well.....<br /><br /><br /><br />___________<br /><br /><br /><br />Rewind!!! See what just happened here....I flipped....and I started <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">regaling</span> in the bliss of my current sex life....why does that seem so normal....did I sound <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">satisfied</span> with what was currently <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">occurring</span> in my life? Is it substance????...............And lastly, am I actually relationship material?? On top of this all, I actually starting to get tired of meeting men, all together. Im becoming bored.... Does everyone have to be in love, want to be in love, or have had love??? Does love have to exist for me to sustain???? What is happiness/satisfaction without love?<br /><br /><br /><br />Any help on this would be lovely.<br /><br /><br /><br />Shout out to my dude, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">Blaq</span>-n-Mild.....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">ur</span> are the Man!!! You always been there...or here....for me! I appreciate u....really welcoming person!<br /><br /><br /><br />Peace & Love.<br /><br /><br /><br />Syd.SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-71638779053338309602008-10-10T08:35:00.004-05:002008-10-10T16:39:50.526-05:00Why cant I fix this shit....my shit! Im 22 yrs old, and I cant seem to come out of this unhappiness, this emptiness that fully fills and occupies me. I look at my life....even just on the surface...and I realize that I have nothing. There is not shit in my life that I have to live for. And I mean this in a "im not about to kill myself, not depressed" way. What Im saying is "what the fuck am I doing with my life...why am I living....what am I living to do?" I love life, I adore the possibilities. But why am I not enjoying it all.<br /><br />I have these dreams sometimes, usually very elaborate. And I will see images, motion....see myself doing things in life that I could only dreams about, literally. I see me in careers and with hobbies and things I picture myself doing all the time. But why does it all seem to stay in my head. I cant comprehend why I see the vision, but I can't live the task. I was watching some video on YouTube yesterday, and in the lyrics the artist said somthing so simple, but so profound at the same time....it was something to the nature of "no one knows me under these clothes".........I just found it. It was Alicia Keys' "Superwoman" song and the lyrics were <blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote>When I'm breaking down<br />And I can't be found<br />And I start to get weak<br />Cause no one knows<br />Me underneath these clothes<br />But I can fly<br /><br />.......and that shit just really hit me because I find myself everyday just looking at myself inwardly, and thinking 'what people see me as from the outside is nothing that I am on the inside...from my dress to my personality to my aspirations to my potential.....I am everything that no one sees. I live a life that is impurposed for me. I do things that are out of character to make myself feel and look like the next person....but really, Im just trying to find out how to get to that place where I know I should be. Its hard.<br /><br />One of the struggles I have right now is filling the emptiness of persons in my life. It's something Ive dealt with my whole life. But it comes and it goes with time...as I go though these phases of thinking Im saved, thinking I'm complete....but it always turns out unreal. The way...the only way I've ever dealt with the lack of people in my life is sex. I dont have any concerned family, the companion of friends, the love of a partner.....never have....otherwise Id probably die to hold on to it. It may appear--as it always does--that Im happy in that sense....but the truth is, I have nobody. I dont talk to nobody, I dont chill with nobody, I dont love nobody. I have always been a loner...from grade school to now, and its a complete struggle for me....especially as I have come into adulthood. Either Im pushing people away or they are pushing me away.<br /><br />So, most of my communication with the "outside" is on this site called BGC. Most of you know about it. And one of the questions I can almost rely on getting is "why are you single." My looks have always gotten me noticed by black men, as I have found as I grow. I didnt really understand how attractive other people thought I was until I got into the online world and until I got on my own and into school and such. You know, I been offered modeling proposals, dates, all that.....but the one thing that seems to linger is the offer of sex. The reality of it all, is that dudes just want to fuck you! You look good as hell, and so they just desire and burn for a piece of you. And me....dealing and struggling with that void of love, with that void of companionship....I give in to it....I say yes. Let's do fuck. And the one thing in the back of my head that kills me about myself everytime is "I dont want to do this....I dont want to do this." I almost never want to have sex. I can count on my hand.....out of all the dudes I have had sex with....the ones I actually wanted to fuck with. It's real sad....but im going to be Real, because thats who I am...and say that I fuck for pity. I offer dudes my body, whether it me being penetrated or me penetrating them....as a form of pity. And I think about it, and it's a real fucking shame. Because I am not that person. Every single time, I come out of the experience feeling hopeless, alone, and drained. There's this sadness that comes over me that just numbs me. My head sometimes gets lost and I feel purposeless....like I have nothing, no matters, nobody. And it hurts me. But I dont know anything different. I dont know how to make up for what I have never had, you know.<br /><br />How do I make myself complete???How do I keep myself from destroying my potential? How do I keep myself out of people's beds?How do I get people to actually genuinely be concerned for me, and not just judge what they see on my surface? Im tired of being asked why am I single? Im single because you wont love me? You know, its hard to even form this thought....but I am really, really desperate for someone to truly want, care, and love me. There was/is this guy that I am talking to. And we started out badly to begin with by having sex. But I fell for him. The poem below tells of what I felt like the day after I met and had sex with him. But my emotions just overwhelmed me that day from that encounter, and I couldnt control them. I almost didnt want to control them, but I was cool. So, I told this dude how I felt, thinking I was being upfront and real with him. He was cool with it all, but overwhelmed. And I think to myself, and now I maybe I shouldnt have told him, because it freaked him out. He thought that I allowed my feeling to run, which I did....but in the same, I personally thought that he should have been flattered. I didnt realize that to him what we had was just a fuck, because I saw our night as very spiritual; it was that emotional for me. I got carried away---which is unusual---but I was so desperate for someone to want me like it felt like he wanted me that night---that i allowed myself to get carried away like I NEVER would before. And I regret that now, because I let him take a piece of me, he clearly had no desire for because now he's acting like a jerk now. I hate being naive and I hate being stupid enough to allow dudes the benefit of the doubt. You know, sometimes you think you might have met that right one, but it always turns out fucked. Then what? How do you recover from a situation like that, because in any other situation you would have never allowed it to happen. I cant do it anymore. Im tired of messing around, and feeling like shit, and like I have done shitty things after being with men.<br /><br />I need more control....I need options....I need guidance to help steer me to my real place in life.<br /><br />I think about school....and i just wonder where thats going. I been out for a while now, and I see kids always talking about it....I see people I graduated with already in careers...people with children; and then, I look at myself, and I just wonder. What have I done in the same amount of time that they have...what do I have to show for the past four years of my life that actually counts fore anything. I'm working two boring, deadend, troublesome jobs that I absolutely hate. I'm not in school. Dont know when I will be back in school. I do have any outside activities that I do. I'm just here. Seems to be just living in the moments. But I think a lot. And I require a lot for myself. I think about going to the Navy...if only for the experience of something new. But the thoughts stop just there, because I know I have no real passion for the military of anything they have to offer. But the possibilities that I might have to advance myself as a person, and then as an individual is what intrigues me. You know, I want to travel and see and experience all the world. I know what's out there. But the "getting to" part is where I stumble.<br /><br />I think about all the things and places and people that everyone else has seem and done and been a part of and spend time with. And Im just wondering, if I think of it so much, how can i get it. I'm just really tired of waiting around. People say you have to be proactive, a go-getter. You have to 'make it happen.' Then, what the fuck is wrong with me?? How come I am having such a troublesome time at life, and getting the things that I dream of. I'm frustrated with dreaming, and trying to make up for what I dont have. I'm just a little messed up about trying to fill voids with the wrong ingredients....it's not me. Its all just out of place. I'm out of place. Im confused about the people who im trying to let in my life, and the ones i need to let out. Everything has become a blur for me....I feel like im following something without a means....searching aimlessly...no guidance....no map....no discoveries.<br /><br />Where is thing life of mine going?<br /><br />I'm not sure what I need?<br /><br />Or really what I want?<br /><br />I just know that its missing and I want to find it.<br /><br />The End.<br /><blockquote></blockquote>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-81503397978468484592008-09-23T23:55:00.004-05:002008-09-24T00:23:24.556-05:00Something escaped me last night<br />between the tears, the sweat, and the sex juices<br /><br />You took me a place I had declined to go<br />but you spoke well of it<br />and assured me I'd never want to leave<br /><br />Hours later I'm left feeling devoid, but comforted<br />disarrayed and under your control<br /><br />The walls you battled yesterday are now torn<br />and my thoughts are out of focus<br /><br />I don't know what I feel or why.<br />This has never happened.<br />I never get caught up.<br />I never cry over people.<br /><br />But I have sat time and time again<br />in these little hours just stuck on you<br /><br />Still lost in your kisses.<br />Tasting your salty body.<br />Sniffing your cologne.<br />Shivering from your 'bone' pulsating and penetrating me.<br /><br />Empty-headed and unaffected<br />I have lost it and I believe you took it<br /><br />I'm sore.<br />I'm weak.<br />And if my sanity speaks truth to me,<br />it's telling me I'm falling too soon.<br /><br />I have lost myself in you.<br />And it hurts like hell<br />'cause I'm not ready to fall.SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-49594612180302392082008-07-23T02:09:00.001-05:002008-07-23T02:09:33.019-05:00Rambles thru the Shambles of This "Life"<SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>I wish that I could cry...cry to someone about some things in my life that challenges me everyday and frightens me throughout the night.....The people who claim strong bonds and nurtured friendships are the same persons I know I don't need in my life...whether friends or family everyone pretends---and are so intentful in doing so---on making it their purpose to "act" like they are truly meaningful to my existence. Im so fed up with the lies and façades that people build to make themselves look good. Im tired of people...my trust in others is so far gone. Why can't people be real anymore...the truth may hurt...but damn it, SAY IT. Im really ready to throw the towel in on everyone I know. Although, im mostly insistent about keeping my life personal, the few times that I actually wish I could lean on someone, no one I know can be there and not judge or criticize....gloat or revel in their own good fortunes. Its all bogus bullshit. This week, I've even gone as far as to cutting off my outlets to the outside world. I've shut down my phone, because im tired of talking about nothing to people I mean nothing to. Im tired of listening to "friends" pretend they give a crap. Im just incredibly annoyed with deception of this world...being alone this past year has made me realize so much. All this not having, not getting, forever longing, constant worry of why, where, and how, has put such a strain on me, that I've began to realize why shit has gone soooo sour in my life. I'm trying now to take the time to accept what I have momentarily, realize that the reason my life is not going is because maybe im just not prepared. I've done sooooo much shit to try resolving the crap that reeks in my life, to make matters better for me, to make a not so happy childhood & a deprived adolescent-hood look better in adulthood, that I have not searched internally for answers to making my life work. Im always planning, forever challenging what I can do...only to see it fail me one point or another. Its hard and frankly depressing to see this shit happen, I can't lie. But there has to be reason, right? Ok.......I quit. Its 2am, im rambling, my thoughts are incoherent...my family is stressing me because they think they understand my "situation" only because they are NOT going thru the same shit. Ahhhhhh! Leave me. Fuck off PEOPLE! You don't me. <br>_________<br>*Please excuse the negative tone of my blog. Shit is not right as of late...I would write in personal log journey, but I explicate better when typing. Forgive me. </SPAN>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-87216567231839390522008-07-16T19:25:00.001-05:002008-07-16T19:25:54.160-05:00Stop Picking On Me<SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>When LITERALLY everyone you know, everything you've ever worked against, when every obstacle you have ever been introduced to triumphs even after your greatest, most courageous fight of life...when all these things have failed you...when you've been shut out and never seen success in your favor...what does that mean? <br><br>Consciously, im outstandingly motivated, driven to outdo what has never been done in my life...overcoming the strifes I endured, am enduring, and will endure. <br><br>I can't make sense of my consistent failure in life. Physically, I have done nothing to hinder a potential win in my complete exist. It makes no sense whatsoever. How could someone so hopeful and so passionate, get stamped on and run over time and time again. I don't know what I have done or haven't done to deserve what I can't seem to get. The shit is fucked up...but im not giving up, because it would be the hardest to do...but Imma say it like this: <br><br>"Ah nigga is fuckin' tired of the bullshit."</SPAN>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-1187436637388396922008-07-12T12:36:00.001-05:002008-07-12T12:36:22.741-05:00Captured At Heart<SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>One of my worse feelings about meeting new people is getting attached. Usually, the fear resides in another individual getting attached to you, and not you actually getting attached. To be honest, I actually fear both (and frankly have a tendency to call those who "get attached," stalkers...when really they're just nothing more than persons trying to get to know me better). <br><br>But for some reason or another---whether its the fact that I've always chosen a less-social, "loner" path to adulthood or the fact that I'm just not fond of being around people, considerably---I find myself, psychologically fixed on certain people sometimes. It's very rare, because I'm mostly selective about who is in and out of my life, but when it does happen, I know its for some great reason. You would think that relationships that put you through emotionally would be good or desiring. But for me its torture.<br><br>I've try so hard to keep myself emotionally and mentally disbarred from people, so as to keep myself from being hurt like I've seen so many countless times before. I do it in family, in friendships, even so romantically. I prevent myself from allowing my heart to get involved. Maybe my trouble is not in NOT liking people, but fear of what people are capable of. <br><br>I have mixed emotions..I'm confused about how I should or shouldn't accept people into my life. I would like to have depth in my connection with people...I want to be pulled and tugged, sometimes drained, even imprisoned by my connect with people, but im emotionally incapable. I have troubled myself so much, that I won't allow kinship & heart to enter my relations with others. <br><br>But im not ruthless and I'm not insensitive. I care. I'm just not IN it...does that make sense. Im not in it to where it would mean a break in who I am, in my feelings toward that individual...knowing them won't change me, won't pain me in a great deal...it will not put a toll on me. <br><br>Although it's beneficial in some situations, it's sad in others. I yearn for substance in relationships, but somewhere along my path in life...the cord between me and "them" was severed. <br><br>Every now and again, though, I meet someone. And despite my unconscious efforts to push them out of my life, they're consistent in the beginning, which triggers my emotions and refires my yearning to actually WANT to know them. Its great. They make me feel good, I make them feel good. But the failure comes when I get attached mentally...I want them either romantically or intimately, or both and I can't have them. I hate being that. I feel in control of my actions...but in my head I want our intimacy to last! I want it all the time, in time, and on time. And I believe this is why I stray away from building relationships with people. I consume myself with the peace and grace I get when I meet people who actually DO it for me. The people who somehow knows how to reach & unlock a heart; a heart that is not only locked in & shut down, but locked out emotionally from even feeling.<br><br>I guess my trouble is in wanting something I KNOW I can't handle, and I fear it so, that I imprison myself & my happiness from having it. It's like a drug. I feel it best to keep away, because not only do I know it will hurt me inevitably, but it drains me. Id rather be unhappy & unattached, than connected & emotionally without control.<br><br>::::::::<br>{SoFaReal}</SPAN>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-37402722887612730372008-07-09T17:09:00.001-05:002008-07-09T17:09:32.579-05:00Staggered. Where is My Beginning?<SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>Imagine standing in a standstill poise, in the middle of the fastest, most resourceful, and diverse cities in the world...watching all the cars, all the pretty faces, and all the opportunities to revel in life...pass you by; and all you can do is literally watch it---because you're shackled at the ankles and locked into the moment. You feel tormented and tortured, saddened and confused, humanly defiled and mistreated. This is my capacity of life, as I speak.<br><br>Everyday, every single day I wake up sad, emotionally & physically trapped, without an understanding as to why my life is without life. I struggle with myself, with my emotions and my mental, wondering why my head wants and needs things I cannot seem to find the means to gravitate to. I feel useless, purposeless, stuck in a place that limits the possibilities and the potential that my heart yearns and my soul has created. <br><br>Everyday, I wake up already knowing what the day will bring. Already predicting the schedule of events, or the lack, that will occur. Somedays I feel less empowered, less motivated, less hopeful than the day before...and others, I feel like this is my day for escape. For physical, emotional, and mental freedom. Some days I don't want to wake up, some days I want life to just end, some days is just another day. Another day to sit in a room, surrounded by four white walls and nothing but time ponder. <br><br>My faith has been in limbo, I feel forsaken. Unforgiven for something I might have done....and guilty for not believing, for forgetting to pray, for questioning the will of God. <br><br>This all sounds so simple to be relieved of. I know it does. How easy it could be to just walk out, step in, and never look back. If it were, believe me, I would be the first to leave. Despite my sadness, despite my sentiments, I am a superiorly motivated and hopeful individual. I am just so tired of lack of resources and misfortune standing at my side, whenever I attempt to make an effort to make my life better. If I've never had any other friends, I've always known that my pals "Lack of Resources" and "Misfortune" would always be there to have my back. <br><br>I'm tired of being stuck, I'm tired of struggling, I'm tired of being afraid of shit to go wrong in my life. I'm tired of watching my life, my peers, my family continue on prosperously with their lives, and not understanding what in the world I could have done to not deserve the same. I'm tired of pain riding my back, sadness squeezing the life from me, and hurt making a mockery of me. <br><br>I've always deserved better. I've always looked for better. I've tried to be good, but my understanding in truth and in good deeds baffles me. Why do good people hurt so bad? <br><br>I'm so frustrated with dreaming wide awake, watching my hopes play out before my eyes...only I'm never an actor in that play. <br><br>I just wish to be saved. I don't want to stay here. I'm ready! I am ready. <br><br>::::::::::<br>SoFaReal</SPAN>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-86896258228065771812008-05-16T12:03:00.001-05:002008-05-16T12:03:27.815-05:00Year of the Tiger<SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>On this 22nd Anniversary of my Birth, I am grateful. Grateful for bottomless gifts and wonders I have been blessed to receive. I pray for the wisdom to conquer my every challenge, the grace to acknowlege & accept all the form of beauties in my life, the will to sustain them, and the peace to be free to be me. <br><br>May LOVE continue to reign forever more.<br><br> </SPAN>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-67642610598518791542008-03-27T00:30:00.002-05:002008-03-27T14:17:38.251-05:00<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal;font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" >Admist a spring night in a wicked life, my body drapes over warm sheets painted a pity blue.<br /><br />My thoughts are plenty, as I reminesce on the consistency of pain, misfortune, lost of promises. Hurt not so much by people---for I fear that unpredictable depth---but more so by events and the causation of life.<br /><br />I visit the possibilities of difference and the richness of quality, for it's a distant place that only pokes its head and points its finger.<br /><br />But inspite of it all, I am still lost for where to attribute my fervor to sustain:<br />The life of my genes?<br />Or the faith in my God?<br />The hope for change?<br />Or the endeavor of the unknown?<br /><br />Those that are familiar to me frolic in a bliss of ignorance. Though, I prefer it this way; for despite them being voiced, my pains will be my pains and will only beat at deaf ears, until my own courage reigns.<br /><br />Mostly, I revel not in the reality of my life. Though I take heed to its bounty and praise the light of life, the actuality and the authenticity hold true.<br /><br />So, I'll just keep my struggle until Sir Life decides to break me loose off my training wheels. </span>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-23120568784567389882008-01-30T18:11:00.001-06:002008-01-30T18:11:34.241-06:00<SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>Im still here....<br><br>Just a minor update to those who got love for a yung brotha...all is well with me. Just kinda living right now. Nothing significant, nothing too moving...yet, I flow....and I feel, and I be. <br><br>I feel safe...Im alive.<br><br>Just doing a lot of constant reading, grasping and grabbing for knowledge, observing, expanding, growing, and too experiencing. Poetry has become a huge outlet for me recently, and im realizing how affected I am by the eloquent ways of words...the things either said in small forms or left not said at all. Its a beautiful thang...<br><br>My focus right now remains a balance between self-discovery and limited outward influence. I know myself...I just have to adjust and build a relationship from my present self to the self im to become. Sometimes my my fondness for being able to connect with my soul so readily pains me, but then I THINK and realize that because of my relative connect with "the self," I am distinctive and prized, and I sale not my self short. <br><br>Aint it funny....mysterious how life works out, they say. The very thing I struggled against most, has come back to nurture and bring me anew. <br><br>Im channeling somethings gone unseen, and being gifted with a newer, higher life....in luminous enchanting lights. <br><br>Look out for me.... <br><br>{Peace°Love°Soul}</SPAN>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-74518732848984778632007-12-16T03:14:00.000-06:002007-12-16T03:38:02.654-06:00Sitting alone on my darkest night/ through piercing pain and body aches/ that picks and throbs at the crown of my head/ and trickes down my middle toe <br /><br />Thoughts of you spell your name across my mind/ confuse my emotions drowning out my sorrow/ and igniting a possibility of a better tomorrow <br /><br />Embodied with a soul that brings content to my spirit/ in a time when glee is suppressed by frustation and doubt <br /><br />Probe my heart as you will/ but undertand that though i guard it with the strength of a mighty fist/ the master key is never hard to find<br /><br />Having that you seek it with noble intent and desiring need<br /><br />Expressing my feeling has never been an easy task/ so i hope you shall help guide the way/ with the patience of a gentle black night <br /><br />Necessary for the feelings i have/ but most importantly for the promise of fulfillment i beg to offer you.SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-60743671670436230802007-12-12T11:58:00.000-06:002007-12-12T13:12:37.137-06:00Warm greeting, my Blog Family.<br /><br />Recently, I've been going through a lot lately dealing with aspects of my life's potential. I always thought that once I graduated high school, that I would immediately go to college, then off to Medical School, and work my ass of in internships pursuing my life's dream of becoming a doctor. I'd imagined that I'd be one amongst many, an elite bunch of doctors, and possibly even the one to cure cancer, AIDS, or Diabetes. That was probably my problem...my imagination runs a mile a minute and I attempt at pursuing every thought and idea that comes to mind. When I was young I'd made up in my mind, that I was going to be a doctor....and nothing else. So, throughout my childhood, grade school, secondary schooling...I was a future doctor. I never gave myself room to consider anything else.<br /><br />Finally, I got to college...and "Ah, hell," reality set in. Bio, Chem, and all the coursework that was prerequisite for the Bio/Pre-Med major, just honestly did not suit my fancy. I was constantly struggling, making myself believe that eventually I'd "get it." That never happened. So, after that I changed my major like five other time over the course of 3 years in pursuit of making a satisfying career. Here I am almost four year later, have moved back home, 2 time college dropout, and still lacking passion in life. This is where my sadness stems and where my soul is void.<br /><br />So, I went back to a lesson that my grandmother and my aunt taught me years and years ago....when in doubt and when your soul is lost....pray. And so I dropped to my knees and I began to pray. This is a time when I felt like I needed God most, and when I have those moments, I crumble and I break and I weep, inconsolably. For I know there is no one else to call upon, and no one else who can cure my pain and soothe my frustrations. Sometimes, like this time....I cant speak and I'm so emotional, but I know that He knows...and I know He understands, and I know that he listens to me cry, and I worry not about my words...for my surrender alone is good enough. "My grace is sufficient." <span style="font-size:78%;">(smiles @ HisLoveCoversMe)</span><br /><br />But the hardest part of this all has been that I've found something...something I've always been passionate about, but never considered it a "passion." And that's music. I love so many genres of music, and when I listen....I listen for quality, I listen for essence, I listen for the music....not the lyrics, but the music....the drums, the strings, and the piano. I hear things like that, and I hear small subtleties that most don't have the ear for. And when you think about it, honestly, it sets the foundation for the emotion in lyrics and the emotion from which the singer sings. And so I thought, why not pursue music? Like most people, I have many reservations about music. Most people don't consider it an actual career, more of a hobby. And think only those select few who stick out can "make it." There is much truth to that, and I think to myself 'what makes me so much better than the next?' I can't read music, I can't play an instrument, and although I can hold a tune, I'm not the best singer. Yet I love, thrive, and breathe music. I never before realize how much...but I am truly passionate for those harmonies and lyrics and melodies. And just like everything else in my life, I think "Why not?"<br /><br />Its kind of funny because the things that I embrace, the things that I forget to acknowledge, the things I set on the back aisle...are the things I never realized I love the most. Music, art, artistic & theatrical dance....the things that are suppose to be just pleasures, leisures, or hobbies, are the same things that make me happy, that makes me smile.<br /><br />But I can't avoid associating pleasures with failures; I fear if I get in too deep of reveling in my own glee, I'll loose my purpose and fail. Or just maybe this is my purpose. It's so hard to figure out, because with trying to manifest my passion, comes a lot of work. And from my history, the pattern has been if there's too much involved, I'm not happy. And when I'm not happy...I quit!<br /><br />So, this is kind of what I'm battling with....a battle of the conscious & logic versus the emotions & pleasures. But I know me a little more than I give myself credit for, and I can almost guarantee that I'll choose my feelings over my thoughts, my emotions over my conscious, and my heart over my head.<br /><br />I have a long road ahead, but I truly feel like I can do it. I'm going to work towards music engineering/production and composition. So, 2008 here I come. My only prayer is that God rides this journey with me, and guides my hands & fingers along the keys of my new keyboard, as I pursue this dream of mine, and this passion that burns like fire.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:-1;">"<span style="font-style: italic;">The LORD is my portion, </span><b style="font-style: italic;">saith my soul</b><span style="font-style: italic;">; therefore will I hope in him</span>." -- Lamentations 3:24</span>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-36415022618563550492007-11-13T08:15:00.000-06:002007-11-13T08:20:32.844-06:00Crept into thoughts<br />Misusing my invitation<br />I spotted your presence in the darkness<br />where imagination bleeds into reality<br />and the mind is fickle<br /><br />Though I sang blessed mercy to cover me<br />still the rain poisons<br />seeping fervently into my pores<br />icing my spine to near break<br /><br />Tantalized by your intentions<br />I tremble and I ache<br />Subdued not by your towering form<br />but imprisoned by your genuine character<br />and the sentiments that croon from your commanding voice<br /><br />Captivated by the moments<br />In desperation for hours<br />A fool you make of me<br />to distress my heart<br />and stifle my sexual appetiteSoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-29733946899049417692007-11-07T10:11:00.001-06:002007-11-07T12:12:47.637-06:00Sunday night....I'm exhausted from over-exerting myself in preparing for three major exams and a paper that are all scheduled for that following Tuesday. Worn out, draping eyes, and scattered thoughts, I tell myself I'm going to sleep...and now. But before I do, I try to spill time, hopping on the infamous BGC to do 'God knows what.' Firstly, let me just say I'm not a fan of the site. I believe that it embodies very negative aspect of the gay life that many of us are trying to fight against...the instant sex and the fake profiles are endless. I will say that I have met about 2-3 guys who are actually very decent and I now talk with them on a regular basis. Although, I'm biased to the site---mostly because of the activity that goes on there---I find myself drawn to it probably more than I should be. But mostly, I admit that I use it in the times when I'm bored, and I feel like talking or communicating with someone. With that said...I jump on BGC right before I decide to go to sleep. I'm hit up several times (more than I care to be), mostly with guys saying "you have a pretty smile" or "wats good?" (Uh, lame....!) Anywho, finally right before I'm about to hit the logout link, I decide to check my messages once more. A guy hits me up in the area, says his "wassup," only in the next message he writes "was hopin we could just sit n talk for a lil while yo and smoke a blunt together if u smoked but if not we could just sit and talk yo...a nig just need a shoulder to lean on and shit." I thought this was odd, because I really felt that this dude was going through something, and he somewhat openly expressed his feelings to me. I felt compelled, and so I started asking him if everything was cool with him. He said yeah, but he just really needed someone to talk to, "just chill and no sex yo." He went on in his message to say that I could crash at his house for the night, and go wherever I needed to go in the morn. I can't explain my reaction, but I was really stunned. This dude, who knows nothing about me, and likewise, had just invited me into his home, said that I could spend the night in his bed, and shower in his tub when I woke." Wat! I was just taken aback by his welcome.<br /><br />But anyways, we talk like 6-7 minutes more and somehow, for some reason I felt an urge to go. I don't know why, because deep within me I felt that this could be a setup. I could easy get in the car and be going to meet my death...this could be a trap into somebody's sick orgy feast...I was nervous, but I wanted to go. So, when I got up to get showered and get dressed, i just kept praying to God to please let everything be okay....don't let this dude have evil or malice in his intentions, and I prayed asking why I felt so convinced that I needed to go. Still, I felt no reservation enough to keep me at home. Fast forward 45 min. I get to the guy's house, and he comes to meet me at the door. He's like 5'7, dark skinned, nicely trimmed hair, kind of thugged-out dude, but he looks somewhat under-weight. But I don't think anything of it, I mean, everyone tells me I need to gain weight all the time. I enter his room, nothing out of the ordinary. He lived with mother and two brothers who were in the house asleep. That made me a bit nervous, mostly because he had the door wide open and once we got into conversation he was talking pretty candidly at a tone that I know anyone who was in the house could easily hear. So, we get comfortable and I'm okay with the guy. We're just talking for a while, watching tv, and I was actually glad that I had come because it had been a while since I really spent time with anyone, much less my own family. (Yes, I'm pretty lonely at this point in my life). Somewhere in the conversation, I think back to the small talk we had over BGC, and I expressed to him my concern at the time and told him that I really thought something was wrong...I said to him "I felt like you were going to kill yourself or something." His words, although very short, just spoke to me in the message and I really read something so much more into what it actually said. I can sense when someone's going through, and I just knew something was up.<br /><br />So, I ask him what was going on. Initially, he hesitated and then said "nothing." I'm quiet for a moment, because I know he will say more. "I just wasn't feeling good earlier." I reply with a simple 'okay,' but I look over at him. He's lying down, embracing his pillow with it covering both his chest and face. When I look over, he's peeking at me, almost like he's reading me to see what my reaction is, or if he can trust me. Funny, but I though it was cute. He comes closer to me in the bed and says "I just got this friend...you know. You ever met anybody with HIV?" 'No, not knowingly,' I say to him. 'Why, does your friend have it or something?' "Nah," he says "Well, if you haven't, then you just did." I look at him, staring actually, and he's still peeking from his pillow, like he's asking 'what next?' The innocence in his glare and the tears forming in his eyes, causes me to cry. He goes on to say more, but I'm just still lost in his prior words "well, you just have." This guy just told me he was HIV positive and I didn't know what to say, but I knew what I felt. I think what really got to me was the fact that he was young. The fact that he had HIV wasn't the issue, and I wasn't surprised that I didn't become outraged or disgusted, like many naive people do. I know somethings about it, and either way, I'm not the type of guy who will run away from you because you have a disease, or even a minor cold. That's not cool. But I was just so lost because this young dude, kid-like almost--even though he was probably not even a year young than I--had HIV. It could have been me, I thought. I remember I use to say to myself, not too long ago, that if I ever became HIV positive I wouldn't want to live. I would kill myself before I let something like that overcome me. That was the more naive me talking, then...probably less then 2 years ago, but those were my sentiments towards HIV. I felt like it was a death sentence, and I wanted no part in it.<br /><br />So, I just cried with him for like 5-10 while we talked about him living with HIV, how he contracted it, how he's dealing with it, and how he's protecting himself and others now that he's aware of his status. It surprised me, because he actually seemed really dedicated and adamant about the well-being of his partners, because like we were talking about, some dudes just don't give care about who they're messing with and if they infect them or not. There are somethings sexually he would never allow anymore, some of which i would have thought was okay, but even the slightest possibility of contraction was a concern for him. I admired him for that. He was surprised by my comfort being with him, but I actually felt very good being near him. I thanked God for allowing me to hear and understand his call to me, and I trusted myself for trusting my intuition. The night went by, we talked and laughed more, and I had made a new friend. I didn't stay to shower, but he was okay with that.<br /><br />_______________________________________<br /><br />This is where the problem comes in.. I was happy about the formentioned situation, but it was the next night that made me unhappy. Me and the guy ended up talking and texting the following day, which was Monday and he convinced me to stay again that night. So, I did. Took some food over and I thought that was that. In his messages earlier, he had hinted that he really wanted to kiss me the night before, but that he wasn't sure how comfortable I really was, given his status. I expressed to him that I would have been fine with that, and that his status had no weight on my feeling towards him. He said well maybe we could get a chance to make up for that later. A kiss, I think is no big idea. It's just a simple form of intimacy that two people express when they feel something deeper than how you feel if you gave someone a hug. It doesn't necessarily have to lead to anything more. And I assured this dude that I was celibate, and really trying to not be sexually intimate with anyone unless I was in a relationship. Disappointed he was because he mentioned that he wanted to give me head, but he respected me for telling him and respected my position. I know, I was just as stunned about the head thing, too, but I could understand it...he's a guy, and I'm a guy...we're attracted to one another...we're both horny...let's be sexual. But no, I was waiting, and he understood. I get to his house, we talk, and watch "Black Snake Moan" (interesting movie and probably the wrong one to be watching considering the circumstances). Somewhere during the movie I get really tired---probably from working my ass off with those exams, and lack of sleep---and so I turn away from the television and try to doze off. Mind you, I'm facing him now, and he's not even 7 inches away from me. He starts touching me...yes, there!...and I don't say anything, except 'what are you doing?' Somehow---gosh I don't know how---my sex ends up out of my pants and in his mouth. Ouch, now I'm ashamed. What happened to saving myself. I wanted to say no...and I thought about all the times I've criticized other men for cheating on their significant other, because they "couldn't say no." But here I was not being able to say no. I know this is cliche, but it felt so good. (I'm sorry, Self!)<br /><br />Basically, my issue is that I have a problem with saying no when I'm sexually propositioned. It's the only time that I have had sex, but I can't seem to find it in myself to scream "NO!" when someone asks me for it. I just give it to them, or its kind of taken. No hesitation, no reservation. My issue is not with dude being positive, but with myself not being able to hold my ground and respect myself and my feelings towards trying to do better. My biggest fear right now, is that the time will come when someone wants to be with me in a relationship...and I end up disrespecting and dishonoring our commitment to one another by submitting myself to someone else's advances. Honestly, I would like to think I would be better than that, but it's happened before. I remember I met this fine dude when I lived in Atlanta, and the first night we messed around. Afterwards, he said to me "let's not do this again. Let's wait." But instead, everytime I went over to his house, I'd pursue him and he'd give me what I wanted. He's a man, right? I regret doing that, because I really genuinely felt something for him and it was mutual, but I didn't know how to handle not "getting it." I can't handle being intimate, without being sexual.SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-59328291539743101832007-10-31T12:03:00.000-05:002007-11-01T18:33:53.981-05:00K...I wasn't plannin' on blogging anytime soon, cause what I wanna blog hasn't reached a climax yet, but y'all stay tuned...but tell me why the hell I'm feelin' like a 3rd grader back in elementary school by playin' this losser game Tag, that I'm already partial to...why? Hmm...well, got damnit, I'm bitter that's why!!! Sadly, I was always the social outcast in elementary and junior high school, 'cause everybody figured I gay...well, guess what kids!...you jinxed me. Yes, I love the penis, and all its glory, baby!! Anyways, here's the rules. If I tag a person that's already been tagged, deal wit it, aight : D ............<br /><blockquote></blockquote><br /><br /><br />The rules of the game are:<br /><br />(1) Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog...<br /><blockquote></blockquote>(2) Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself...<br /><blockquote></blockquote>(3) Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs...<br /><blockquote></blockquote>(4) Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.<br /><br /><br />Random Facts About SoFaReal:<br /><br />(1) I hate people, lol. I know right...what do I mean. It's what it looks like. I have a huge disliking for people in general 'cause they do stupid shit, say stupid shit, and work my nerves like nobody's business. It's really a complex situation, and there's so many aspects in explaining it...but I'm very selective about allowing people to get to know me and vice versa. I might have to explain myself at some point in this blog, but ask me later.<br /><br />(2) I'm not fond of my family. You might have been able to gather this from previous post, but they're not the best of people. We just have nothing in common, and I only pretend like I like them because I'm a nice person and I have a heart. Did I just contradict myself?<br /><br />(3) My friends love me, but can never get in contact with me...I hate answering the phone, so I tend to ignore you and wait for the voicemail. No voicemail, no callback. I really think it just has to do with me not liking to talk on the phone.<br /><br />(4) I was once hit in the head with a flying brick, and suffered an extensive concussion. Passed out for 10min, and my brother almost went to jail...damn, it...if only I would have died. I don't like him at all.<br /><br />(5) I'm usually very conservative in public, looks are somewhat cocky and standoffish, but I'm nothing close to being any of those things. I'm actually incredibly laid back, chill, and very in tune with my emotions, my mind, and the heart. I even thought about becoming a rastarafi once. But who the hell is Haile Selassie I. Ain't nobody like Jesus, chile! (I'm not usually this gay, only on Blogger). But most people find me incredibly likable.<br /><blockquote></blockquote><br />(6) Thank God, this is number 6 'cause I don't like talking about myself. Most times I ramble and tell people irrelevant shit they never cared to know. But believe me, I won't tell you much...I tend to be private in my thoughts, and don't tell my friends, fam, or anyone how I really feel. I'm think I'm a real bastard sometimes. I have quick tongue, if you cross me wrong.<br /><br />(7) I'm really naive and I tend to make very stupid, often times regretable decisions because I'm spontaneous...I'm very unpredictable and do things cause they look or sound good. Its a flaw I'm trying to fix...y'all pray for me!<br /><br />(8) Oh, I'm a rule breaker...don't try to make me conform, cause I wont comply. That's why there's a number 8. I'm very much an individual and I have a hard time being receptive to advise that I know is good for me, but doesn't sound good to me.SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-88478349432104158912007-10-17T13:20:00.000-05:002007-10-17T13:43:41.677-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]">"Homosexuality, Lesbianism, these bodily pervesions...those walls must come down. We're setting the standard...we're setting the mark for another generation. We will not tolerate what you set as normal. We will not tolerate what you say we should just make peace with. No! No! No!"</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"> ~fr. Israel & New Breed's latest album "A Deeper Level"</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"> </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>So you guys know that Im like going thru this huge spiritual awakening, right. Well, yeah. Gods always lived in my spirit, ive been saved for quite some time, but im really beginning to composition myself for the fullness of Gods profoundness. Anywho, i started buying all these gospel cds, not to seem like im this changed, bible-fied Christian overnight, but because i was compelled to and i felt like thats what i wanted to hear. i not gon lie, like i said im not that changed, i still get down with my Maxwell soul sessions and Leela James grooves...music is music to me, if its good...the shit is good. But what im having an issue with is the community of Christian. All i gotta say is "they make me sick." Its like the very thing you try to stray away from in society--- negativity, ostrasization, deceit, stigmas---its the same shit you fall right back into when you try to surrender yourself to something greater than you, and greater than all the<br />other bullshit in this world. Like nothing ever gets right...a damned if you do, a damned if you dont type situation. Im tired of everytime i turn on one of these cds theyre talking about overcoming homosexuality, lesbianism, and all this other supposed "fire pit" bound crap. You know, its this type of behavior that make those who really love God and hold sacred to their belief system, turn away and negate that which is sometimes their only space for refuge, you know what i mean. Some of these churches are like damn cults, and really aint got nothin to do with the realness and fundamentals of what being a Christian or any belief is all about. Personally im not even all about the religious aspects involved, and ive always been about principles before governance. And even though im usually able to sustain my position with God, sometimes its hard cause all you get is a consistency of people speaking out against everything that keeps you afloat...the hate they spit, the things they do really do hurt, and at times its so frustrating and confusing because you dont know where to turn, or whom or what to believe. But i am what i am, and im not ever changing something thats proves so natural to me; im not about to "fix" myself to please nobody cause when all is said and done, im still inflicted with the same wounds and circumstances i was before. Im not this way for nothing...i wouldnt feel so passionate it, if it was not mine to own. I shook the reverend of my church's hand the other day on his meet and greet after church, and it was nothing...just a shake and keep it movin. But it was his stare, almost a glare or a scowl, that really set me back. Like he was reading me, and knew something about me that the other hundrer in the congregation didnt...i felt almost naked, exposed even. It...something was just wrong on so many levels, and it didnt sit well with me. I remembered why i had left this church in the first place. But to be read and sized in God House is just a feeling i really dont appreciate and furthermore completely uncomfortale with. I feel so unwanted. So i wonder what do other bloggers feel about church, the sub society that has been created within them, and the experiences you might have had dealing with acceptance or the lack thereof? </div>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-53346224811966902452007-10-14T17:52:00.000-05:002007-10-14T17:59:06.824-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]"><span style="styleDocument: [object]" >How does one begin to composition themselves to give honor and thanks to parents who would otherwise be deemed unworthy?<br /><br />I've always known that there is and always has been a struggle in the relationship that I hold with my parents. Of course, the revelation didn't come until I was old enough to truly understand more complicated concepts and the ability to analyze them; yet nonetheless the thought has always been 'why is my family not the image of the great American family I see in the magazine;' 'why is it that I only see my father and my second family only during certain holidays;' 'why does mom work two jobs and leave us kids here at home alone;' 'why is my family <em>not</em> a family.'<br /><br />The memories of my childhood are few and far in between. I can't say that I recall my three best friends "John, Marcus, and Billy-Joe," because they didn't exist. I don't remember having a large playroom full of toys, and the latest and greatest arcade games, because it didn't exist. Neither can I say that every Christmas I woke to loads upon loads of new things to call my own and revel in joy about, with John, Marcus, and Billy-Joe, because this simply did not exist.<br /><br />Don't misunderstand, though. I'm not out to make it appear that I had the most awful and disappointing childhood. And frankly, I will be the first to admit that there are plenty upon plenties of millions of grown men and teenage young boys who are locked in cold prison cells, who had much worse experiences than I. But unlike some of them, I was so lucky...rather blessed, to not be raised in a ghetto; my parents weren't led down the hard to kill path of heavy drug usage, or even thievery. I wasn't influenced by the streets and being in a gang is not where I sought refuge. Although, being raised in a single family home with three other kids, there were the typical hard times---scarcity of food, unpaid bills, food-stamp recipient, housing assistance--but it wasn't bad enough to kill me. They say the quickest way to poverty is having children out of wedlock, and my mother had four reasons to be on that waiting list for assistance, four free lunch forms to fill out, and four child support checks to collect, and prayed to God they came through 'cause God knows some of us had some deadbeat daddies. But we made it. I'm not in jail, I'm not on drugs, heroin, speed...all the above. I'm not a Blood, I'm not a Crip. I'm not in somebody's mental asylum. Despite that though, where does the real deficiency lie? Where was I really robbed as an individual? Where wasn't I nurtured?<br /><br />Not only my mother, but my father---even in his absence (which was no fault of his own)---failed to shape the man I was to inevitably become. They failed me because they never made the time to spend time with me. They never really showed me the evils and goods, the trials and the triumphs of the world. They never guided me in what was acceptable and what was not. Basically, I raised myself. They sustained me in my physical being---keeping me clothed, feed, sheltered---but I made me and the world made me who I am today. When I didn't know the answers to a question, I feed my inclination for knowledge; When I was covered and shadowed by clouds of darkness & depression, sadness and shame, I sheltered my own head. And when I felt naked without a person in the world to seek cover, I clothed my own body. Everything I know and everything I have ever known is from my own experiences, or from the mouths of other people who took the time to educate and love upon little ole' me. Somebody was caring enough, had the heart enough to say "I'm going to show this child." But for the most part I've had to learn from my own mistakes, some of which I still make today.<br /><br />The education I have is because I pushed myself, I motivated myself to do better and be better than my parents were. I was motivated by what not to do, rather than what to do. I have a hard time not blaming my parents for some of the shit I go through each day of my life. Sometimes I play that "what if" game, which I hate; but how do you not, when everything you aren't is because they are not and did not. I blame them for not being involved in my life---why didn't you ask me how school was, or even if I meant someone "special" at school. I blame them for my lack in talent and for making me an inactive child---why didn't you put me in baseball, football...hell, why not ballet. Maybe I could have been a great pianist, or an all-start athlete. I blame them when I can't express myself because I lack the vocabulary, or the education that I desire because they didn't feed me knowledge at home. I blame for not informing me of the weary and wayward ways of the world. Why wasn't I educated about where I came from, my ancestors, my heritage, the persecution of my people. Why didn't you give me a good sense of pride in being a black man in a white man's world. Hell, because of that I struggled with claiming ownership to who I am and from whom I come! Why didn't you...why didn't you be a real parent, a real mom, a real dad and help make me what I could have become or should have become.<br /><br />You know, this is somthing that I truly thought I could conquer in a matter of days. But out of all the things in my life right now that I am slowly, but surely gaining confidence and bravery to defeat...this is the one battle that pains me more than any. Don't get me wrong...I'm not depressed, and I'm not stressed. I'm just tryng to do better for myself and for my own life, so that I may have peace, prosperity and so that it may be well with me. But this I can't forgive. And as much as it hurts me to say it, my parents failed me and cursed me; and damnit it ain't so easy to just forgive something or someone that has always hurt you. So, really, how do I let go? I want to forgive badly, but I can't close a grave that somebody is still digging?</span></div>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-33485379871189796012007-10-08T12:25:00.000-05:002007-10-08T12:37:39.774-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]">I wish I'd never come back here<br />'cause the pain I left<br />just rang me up, said 'Wassup'<br />replagued my soul<br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Then said to me 'Welcome Back'</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I wish I'd never come back here</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">'cause every night when I lay my body down to sleep</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">I rest in a river</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">a river of my own blood, my own sweat</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">but mostly my own tears</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">from the horrid days and dreaded nights</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">when you'd beat my mind, kill my spirit</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">and burn every dream I had</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">'til all was left was but a hole</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I wish I'd never come back here</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">to relive the murder you committed to my heart</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">you raped my mind</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">assaulted my thoughts</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">shoved me down back to dirt</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">then spat me shame</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">never allowing me my strength to regain</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I wish I'd never come back here</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">because I'm a coward for not blaming you</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">for failing me in my youth </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">cursing me as a man</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">disillusioned by the reality that I am but what I am</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">and whether you love me or not</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">God is my Man</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">holding me tight in every night</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">whispering to me those things that you refuse</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I wish I'd never come back here</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">but here I am</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">standing in this room that burns my flesh</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">throbbing in my brain</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">feeling prisoner to this place I know as home</div></div>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-63553639741840236642007-10-05T19:52:00.000-05:002007-10-06T10:13:39.671-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]">About two weeks ago, after a very long and even excruciating period, I made my first steps back into the house of the Lord. It sounds almost simplistic now, but at the time of my departure, I had made my mind up that despite the relationship that I had built with God, I would allow certain distractions...certain ailments to deter the path and even block that path, from the very presence that gives me my survival. Yes...I called myself don' fixed and punished every man that called himself a "Man of God" and every place of worship by convincing myself that because they couldn't bless me with a message that spoke to my heart and because they couldn't render relevance to my life, that I'd be damned if I gave them another red cent. No sooner than I had set myself on that high shelf, then flung my nose in the air, so did the wheels turn and I became the prince of all damned. I learned a hard lesson for my sacrifice. </div><blockquote style="styleDocument: [object]"></blockquote><div style="styleDocument: [object]">You see, our God is a selfish yet spiteful God. And I truly believe that because I am a pupil of his being, and because I knew the fundamentals of his word, and because I had taken the holy sacrament of baptism, and furthermore been saved by his blood, that He punished me deeper than those who didn't know Him. I could not reasonably put together a conclusion as to why "this" person has a beautiful home, or the other a fierce sports car that made all the heads turn, or the next, meaningful love...yet I'm left with a hand full of nothing. Usually, I'm not concerned about what other people have. I'm not an envious person and I don't have a jealous bone in my body. Yet and still, it made no sense for me to carry on the word and will of the Holy Master and still not see my blessings reign. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>But more importantly, what I've learned despite the misconception, is that we all don't belong to Him. Of course, He loves us all, and has room in His kingdom for every soul. But it is our choices and our reasoning that separate us from His presense. The very man that is head of that lucretive corporation and even has money enough to trash, could have very well sold his soul to darkness because he felt forsaken by He who gave him life. I feel like there in lies the problem of those persons who loose their trust in God. Many of us feel like if we go to church and read the Bible that we'll all be okay. Our expectations of God are set high and we look to Him for miracles. We want what we want, when we want, yet don't realize that for everything there is a price, whether monetary or otherwise, for that which is worldly and everything that is not. I think we not only lack to communicate with God, but too we don't gratify Him enough; we don't thank Him for just being who He is. We form the conception that He is truly an Almighty, but really read into it as he is an All-Willing. He is all willing and ready to give you the things that you want because you feel like you deserve a treat for a good deed. This was me. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><blockquote style="styleDocument: [object]"></blockquote><div style="styleDocument: [object]">I wanted so much from God and I wanted Him to be my All-in-All; yet when I really think about what I was doing to deserve so much, I realize that at that point I had accepted a place that made me not only look small, but feel it. At the time, I thought I had it all right...going to work, paying my bills, helping in the community. But it was the things that I felt wasn't so bad that God wasn't so receptive to...loosely giving myself sexually to anybody who asked, smoking that "good," and reveling in material gods. Sheryl Crow says in her song "if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad." That was one of my best mottos, and I'd tell it to anybody who couldn't figure out if something they were doing was good or bad. But Sheryl, let me tell you something, home girl. There is so much more to it than gratifying yourself. Sure it sounds good, but if Jesus was the self-indulgent man that many of us are today, we wouldn't even be the who of what we think we are. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>So, now I praise. For it is a miracle that he has even given me the means to recognize and admit my wrongs. Sure I still struggle with finding myself and shaping myself into a better individual; but in due time I <em>will </em>fully transition into the mold He longs me to be. I still battle everyday with the people in my life, and trying to rid the ones who are no good for me. I still cry when things aren't in reach, and my life spins with no control. But those days are gone of me asking for those things which won't fulfill me. God is my fill. And if He wants me to have, I will have...but I'm not going to push. Now when I pray, I just pray for peace. Peace of mind, peace for patience, peace in love...peace for my soul. If nothing else, I want my peace. Just extend me peace, and <em style="styleDocument: [object]">e'thang gon' be aight.</em></div><blockquote style="styleDocument: [object]"></blockquote><blockquote style="styleDocument: [object]"></blockquote>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-71436045479930802102007-10-02T22:47:00.000-05:002007-10-03T10:58:02.198-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]">My purpose here tonight is to basically make a personal post. But first before I do anything else, I would just like to send out my love and my appreciation to all you Bloggers who stopped in on me, and showed me soooo much love. I have never been "Wow"ed so many times in my life...and it just touched me tremendously how all of you were affected by my post. It brings me so much joy to know that I moved you in the ways you say I did, and I'm also grateful for the inspiring feedback you left. Although I was just being SoFaReal...I thank you anyhow....</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>...and on to the post...</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I've been feelin' this for like the past two weeks, and so while in class today...my sentiments finally hit paper.</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>(<span style="color:#ff0000;">Untitled</span>)</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>You please me in bounty</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Careesing me from my soles to my soul</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Filling me whole with no control</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Some say I'm insane to be inflamed</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">By such rapture that makes me weep even when I sleep</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">though I'm not ashamed to take blame</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">for the fire that has possessed my desires</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Wowed by the sound</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">of the voice that gets me moist</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">in places not limited to faces</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">yet replaces social norms that form</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">and that arise to demise</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">the true me that only I see</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">You keep me when I'm weak</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Pick me up when I'm stuck beneath life's muck</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">And even in times of those inevitable binds</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Comfort you make, though never forsake</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">So this is thanks</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">A musing of my heart, not the banks</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">And too a formal plea for the need of the seed</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">which you plant and renders a pant</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">and for the consuming affect that starts at the nape of the neck</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">runs through my pecks, though its not sex.</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">It's the nature of the sensations </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">that provides me the inspiration </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">to announce to those I call my kin</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">that this pleasure is no sin</div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">but an expression of my inner peace. </div>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-32944073140168216802007-09-29T13:34:00.000-05:002007-09-30T15:32:09.838-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]">The best things in my life are those that i tend to stray away from. No matter how small or great the reward is, I escape the opportunity for challenge everytime. It seems that I expect those gifts not to bring challenge. I prefer to have them work out for me than the other way around, and for this reason, I lack the blessings both to and for life...<br /><br /></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">It's funny. I describe it as--"the world treating me unkindly" or "struggling from this world I'm thrown." You see, basically, I figure that the key factor to me determining why I currently have so many issues, so much pain, is to look at where I've been (literally), how <em>I've</em> affected it, and who I've been with. It's so hard for me to see the reality that stares me dead in the eyes. <em>But </em>I can't look back. I can't stand the glare of disappointment and disapproval that I would receive, cause I know I've failed. I've brought misery to every positive outlook, good influence, and every desirable deed that I was given. Not worked for...but given. 'Cause it's like when I'm given it, I can't find the means to appreciate it. I can't disciple the differences of something naturally presented to me and from something I create the means to achieve. </div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">My thing is that I am only affected by the surface. I see only what something is literally made of, and not what it is made from. Because if I really took the time to be affected by meaning and by essence, then I wouldn't have the issues that i am having. But I'm weak. I'm incompetent. I'm I'm deterred by reality. I'm so unaffected by any and everything that I dont <em>want</em> to see, don't <em>want</em> to hear, or don't <em>want</em> to feel because I'm fearful that I'll kill everything inside of the emptiness I've already created within myself. </div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">I'm deeply saddened that it took something so monstrous to make me see myself from an outward view looking in. And I'm angry. Im angered at the fact that I have not only poisoned myself, but I've poisoned the relationships that I have with other people and the things that have come into my life. How can I be trusted, how can any person be moved by anything that comes from me when I'm so freaking blind and oblivious. </div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Let's be so honest...I'm sitting here talking in circle and in rhymes...but I can't be honest with myself. Let's do air some dirty laundry, if you will. My acceptance at the University of Kansas more than 3 years ago was an ultimate opportunity for the change that I deeply longed for. So, I left Texas. I met good people, had joyous times, and made lasting memories. Was I grateful for it? You answer..I'm not there now and haven't been since freshamn year ended 2 and a half years ago. You wanna know the real reason I left...the reason not sugar-coated to suit the approval of other people? It sure as hell wasn't financial reasons and it wasn't because Lawrecne is a small ass, boring ass little town, which I deceived not only others to believe...but hell, I was convinced this was the reason for a while too. The real reason, and the reason that made it all happen was that there were too many white people. There you have it...sounds shady as hell. But I've admitted it for the first time in 3 years that I am a closeted racist who smiles in your face, talk you up, but a real son-of-a-bitch 'cause I'm not affected by your humanistic qualities, cause in my mind I've already ruled you unworthy and insufficient because you're not dark like me. </div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">How I came to this point sometimes is beyond me. White people have always been a friend of mine, and my disposition in race is something fairly new to me. But ever since my first year in college when I learned about the real prejudices of the world and of this country, I sometimes am to the point where if you're not black or dark then don't touch me. See, there's one of two ways that a person can learn to deal with racism, segregation, and other injustices amongst their own race--positively and use that plight of hate as a platform for good social and racial reform amonst the mainstream. Or negatively, like I ashamably have and allow things like stereotypes to affect you personally and begin to denigrate the intergrity and humility of other races. That's basically what has happened to me, as a result of finding my own ethnic identity. I'm not proud of it, but I'm also not ashamed to admitting my faults. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Example two of how I've horribly disgraced my life...Hasaan...Few words---> the...best...thing...that...has...ever...happned...to...me! Plainly said, but not so plainly played out. This dude has showered me with nothing short of infectious love. He praises me, he wooes me, he encourages me, he challenges me, he motivates me, he comforts me, he contents me. It's no question that he loves me probably more than he's loved anyone or anything. He could probably never admit his devotion but I sense it, and I <em>know </em>it's real. I can almost touch it. But when we were together, I didn't know how to handle it. I couldn' accept the fact that someone could adore me with such depth, and that brought so much mystery. He sacrificed so much to be with me, so much to make what we had meaninful, to make it last. Hold up...make it last?Is that even in the "Lifestyle Handbook?" Gay relationships don't sustain anything past an infactuation misguided as love and several great fucks. That's real. So, when I figured he was about real shit, I couldn't deal. I was so accustomed to "boy meets boy; boy bats his eyes at the other boy; then boy fucks boy in other boy's bed," that I devauled the importance of substance. I didn't know how to be in a relationship...all the niggas I'd been with only wanted one thing from me...sex...and so I accepted it as my reality...I had convinced myself that nothing meaningful happens when you're young. Everything was so screwed up between us. I mean, he's always always been under the impression that it was his fault that we failed as a union. But the truth is that I failed him as a lover, as a partner. Unconsciously or subconsciously, I made him what all the other niggas made me...a fuck. I made him my fuck. He became that simple ass nigga that I had so routinely summoned up in the past, during that lonely period of the month where I felt vulnerable, incomplete, and desperate for sexual intimacy. I began to say things that would turn him off from me, to the point where it became normal for us to just fuck, be fucked, and sleep. That's what I wanted from him, and that's what he offered. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">And so we got bored with one another, started this consistency of arguments, name calling, and mutual disconnections. I didn't touch him, he didn't touch me. Needless to say, we parted ways, became <em>just</em> friends, then <em>no </em>friends at all, friends <em>again</em>, back to <em>no </em>friends, to friends longing for love...secretely in one another, but both of us being too ashamed to confess for fear of being shattered all over again. I lost him, but now I can't dodge my longing for him all over again. How do you let someone go who loved you so much. Would give you any and everything you desired? Selfish. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">I've learned so little from the experiences brought to teach me a lesson. Instead, I favored naivety and disguise to mask me from the things that I feared the most. maturity, aversion of the things I fear won't make me happy, separation of myself from reality, only to live in this perfect illusion I've concocted in my wee little brain. All of this has made me a very selfish person, brought nothing but clouds & heavy rain. I've made a fool of me and disappointed myself. Until I can establish a conception of discipline, acknowledge truth in my own world, and position my life around it, I'll continue to see those same dreary days in this mighty bright land...I need to do some serious soul searchin'...</div>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-54703816727812724762007-09-26T19:20:00.000-05:002007-10-08T12:22:38.499-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]">Hi, my name is SoFaReal. I'm 21 years old....and I'm drowning in debt!<br /><br />This is the reality that I have come to realize is my life, despite the self-encouragement and dutiful prayer.<br /><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Within the past 2 days I have been more shocked by my financial debt more than I have at any other time in my life....and I cannot begin to tell you how hopeless my life seems right now. I never knew that something so petty as money, could become such a powerful tool on the detriment of someone's life. I am so frustrated and so angered and so incredibly pained by this reality that I can do nothing...nothing at all, except cry out and give in. I want to so bad, God knows I just wanna died right now, and leave this forsaken world that has treated me so unkind. </div><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">I want to be here, God knows I do! I want to finish school, I want to pay my debts, I want to help people...I want to live. But it's everytime, everytime, Lord Jesus, that I get things right or things begin to look up for me, there's always something greater, something more frightening than before, that comes and knocks me back into my horrible truth. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>Roughly, I think I'm about $45, 000 in debt. Most if not all of it is student debt, which I'm still defending is not my fault. Mind you, though, I'm still an undergrad with 2 and a half years left to finish. But I came to the conclusion today, that it just might be in my best interest if I don't go back to school for a while, at least not full-time, and at least not until I have some of this debt worked out. The one thing that scares me about a decision as such, is that I'll fail to finish what I promised to myself I would---and that's my college degree. Not only am I riding my own ass to finish, but both sides of my family are watching me...almost literally, depending on me to be a success. I've never let that dependence affect my progress or allow it to stress me; but the funny thing about it, is that while they're rooting me on...not a single one of them knows how troublesome it has been for me to even see the ceilings of a University. Not many know that I've been out of school for nearly two years, got back in school just this semester only to find out that its about to be all over, in the scratch of a pen. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>From the outside looking in, I look SO perfect! I look intelligent, composed, focused, determined, virtuous, compelling, noble, just, strong, power, and blessed without stress. Somehow or another I've always maintained that position, and no one has ever questioned otherwise. I find that so hard to believe too...why do I portray such the perfect imagine, yet don't produce or reap the benefits of my self-image. No one knows my struggle unless I tell them, and for the most part, I never tell my life. Even with my best friends, I avoid talking about myself and my own life, and when I do it's very general and I come off like I got my shit together and aint nothing wrong. But on the inside, I'm a shame. A crying shame, and nothing close to what they people expect me to be. And that makes me so sad. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I've always had the outlook of an optimist. Never been shaken by negative, shadowing thoughts of disappointment. My mentality has always been 'thinking positive things, and positive things shall flow.' But is my concept of what is real and what is non-existent really hindering my prosperity, my life. Out of mind, out of sight...is how I look at a lot of thing--things I can't control, things that hurt, things that are opposite of what I aim to get. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I'm really finding it harder and harder to get by. I swear to you, before today, everything seemed great. All the pain and strife that I had really looked like a thing of the past. I was feeling mighty bad before I began this post. But writing it, helped raise many things I need to think about. I can't go around feeling moody, feeling broke down from life. "This too shall past," keeps me going in a lot of the things I go through. And I know I'm only 21, but 21 year olds have their problems too. No one is invincible from reality and the affects of life. You know, this is my reality. And whether I choose to avoid it or not, is all up to me. But knowing me...Imma make it work for me. Everybody can't have the same life, the same pain, or the same triumphs. What dont kill me makes me stronger, and Lord knows I'm still here. Just cause I'm dealing with my pain, don't make it go away. My head is just as heavy as it was before I start writing...but I tell you what...I feel good. I may not look good (but I aint even gon' try myself like that, lol), but deep inside of me, I know that this ain't nothing but one more river to cross. Hell, I been through oceans and streams, to hell and through high water(I'm so on these analogies tonight), and I'm still here. I'm gon' make it. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>I got a new job, and I'm gon' be alright. I mean, hey, really...what's $45, 000, lol? What's another year off from school when I've already been off for 2....the opportunity hasn't changed. As long as it's in God's will...as long as He said I can have it, it shall and it will come to past. Hallelujah! </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"><blockquote></blockquote>"No Strength, No Joy"---Voices of Citadel </div></div>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-8068756607783831332007-07-24T17:14:00.000-05:002007-10-08T12:24:13.301-05:00<div style="styleDocument: [object]">Tragedy strikes....<br /><br />I found out last night after a tedious day of work, that my grandmother had passed. Initially I was shocked...devastated...in denial. Ifigured that I was invincible when it came to death knocking on my door. In all my 21 years of living, I've never really experienced death so close to home. Hard to believe, seeing as though folks are leaving this place as quickly as they come.<br /><br /><div style="styleDocument: [object]">The news came 3 days overdue. I have been without cell for about week (the damn thing finally gave up on me and stopped operating, after I dropped it on the hard contrete for the ump-teenth time). I was in the car with my mother, she'd been having a casual convo with whom I thought was my aunt in Florida, but turned out to be my favorite cousin in Louisiana, when she handed the phone over to me "here, your cousin wants to speak to you." I sais hello, and the first she says is "you know your grandmother died?" No! I didn't believe her because, although she my favorite cousin, she has a thing for lying to seek attention--an ongoing personality damper she's had since I could remember. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">It was sad news to hear, believe me, and I wish it weren't true. But what pains me most is not the fact that she's gone. I'm at peace with her exit, for she had suffered long and hard with Ovarian cancer that had finally spread, and was told there was nothing more to be done. I was told she fought to end like real trooper and warrior I knew her to be all her life. But what hurts me more than anything is that I feel like I didn't know her as well as I should have. My relationship with my father's side of the family has always been nothing short of being short. I was always the one they always inquired about....'where is your son, T,' they's ask my father. He'd say I was in this state or this state, cause of my mother's constant travels, and the travels of my own I inheritted from my mother once on my own. I'd told myself that once I was old enough, I would try to get to know the Lewis' a little better. I always somewhat blamed my mother for always keeping me so distanced from them....but once I was old enough, it became my responsibility....one that I never fulfilled. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Now, my grandmother is gone. Weeks before her death, I'd had a dream that she's died...not knowing then that she had been battling Ovarian Cancer, I called my dad and told him. He told me about the situation and encouraged me to call her. But I "never got around to it." Really I have no excuse for not calling....I had her number...even though I live in Texas now, my mother has always kept a directory for NE Louisiana in the house, and I knew where to find it. And I feel incredibly guilty and selfish because me not calling her is something I have a habit of doing with a lot of people in my life. I have a tendency to sever perfectly great relationship with people that have come into my life. I cut people, dont call, no email, no nothing. Why? I dont know. People who I know love me, and would love to be in my life....I'm selfish for thinking of other people and ruining the ties between myself and people God has put into my life for a reason, no a season. I have a hard time differentiating the two, and it makes me hate myself so much when I don't realize how important relationships with people really are. That's why I'm so incredibly lonely in my life, that's why I don't have a life---cause I push people out. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">My whole life, I've been somewhat a loner. Not by nature, but by choice. I dont know if its because I'm afraid of being hurt by someone, or what. But I think I have come too comfortable in that lonliness, that its beginning to hurt me and will continue to hurt me evenmore in the longer span of things---I need to realize that I need people. I always, always say: "I dont need nobody but Jesus and my mama." And I know damn when that's not a good motto. But I say it, and I believe it, and its selfish, and it hurts. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">Now because I was selfish, I'm only left with memories of the many time I did see my grandmother. I think the last time was when I had come back from Atlanta my first year at Oglethorpe, maybe almost 2 years ago. She was happy to see me, and i her. Such power and humorous woman. I wish I could have known her. I know she didn't put up with no mess, and was one of those no-holds-barred women. The mouth of a sailor, boy, she was a riot, lol. I miss her. I really do. The one thing great that could from this, is that I will get to be with my family. The family I've never really known, and it will give me the opportunity to make amends when needed, and secure long-lasting relationships to those that are dear. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">I need to wake up, though. Times a'changin' and I'm gon' need somebody one day. I use to hate when my mother told me that-- 'you gon' need somebody one day.' I didn't wanna believe her, and even though I hate to admit when she's right....I'm sure she is. </div><div style="styleDocument: [object]"></div><div style="styleDocument: [object]">May God rest her soul untrouble. We love you "Jo."</div></div>SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-58214249765522163332007-06-25T19:38:00.000-05:002007-06-25T19:42:48.630-05:00You spend several weeks getting to know someone that will be no more real to your life than santa is to the innocent, imaginable souls and then in the flip of the script, literally, they vanish. Dead. Gone, only remnant to that person who truly believed in the majesty. Maybe i am punk for this, but i call it heart....to weep, to fathom the ache of a prominent spirit. Someone who aspired, who accomplished so much, who willed their whole existence to be something positive, something meaningful.<br /><br />And to see it taken hurts me. Im talking about real....these people feel so real to me & i wish i knew them. People like Dorian from I. Wrote. This. Song, the house. Mother from Three. Sides. To. Every. Story, and most recently Ty from Manhood: The. Longest. Moan. Its like i live through these character & their "fam" cause i have yet to experiece such life. I become proud of them. I feel them. And it just pains me to see them go. Whats the goal in killing off a character in a work of fiction so well produced. Like why must the climax or the pivotal point in the storyline be made from death? Thats the ultimate end, you know? But i suppose it wouldnt be so great if the climax wasnt so pivotal. Ijuswannaknow...why they gotta die? Dayne, this is one for you?SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33923152.post-42827190889552032692007-06-19T18:24:00.001-05:002007-06-19T18:24:16.938-05:00Wassup blog world. Sittin at work and just wanted to holla. Peace and One Love. <3SoFaRealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00393185804337336910noreply@blogger.com1