I BELIEVE something wonderful is about to happen!
Safari for the Soul
I BELIEVE something wonderful is about to happen!
Safari for the Soul
Have you every fallen, and the impact not hurt?
Nope; me either.
Some falls hurt less than others.
Sometimes we can break the fall,
Sometimes we brace ourselves for the fall.
Sometimes we can roll on the impact…it still hurts.
Some falls will have you laying in the rocks unable to move for a moment easing self up, shaking inside.
Other falls allow us to jump up survey the damage, brush self off and keep moving, yes.
Feeling the pain, seeing the scars, watching the blood drip; the soreness, the hurt the morning after.
Why the fuck would you fall in love when you can walk into it?
They hang out on a regular basis. The time together is appreciated and valued; an appreciation for what they have in common and what they do not have in common.
It has been expressed more than once that there is a desire for a more serious relationship.
They have little in common.
Something that is pointed out each time the subject comes up. It is always stated, “Opposites attract!” The response is always, “Yes, they do but opposites do not stay together.”
Yesterday they were hanging out enjoying the rain and the jazz. Again the subject of a serious relationship came up.
This time questions were asked.
“When are you going to change your diet and go back into the gym?” The response, “I do not need to I am going to have a surgery for my weight issues.”
Response. “Surgery for your weight issue is not going to correct the issue; it’s a quick fix to a bigger problem; your diet. Until you change your diet the weight is going to be a problem.”
The response, “I can’t change my diet.”
A long deep sigh followed.
Then a statement of fact followed, “Another difference between us; you are always telling me what you cannot do while I believe I can do anything.”
Two hours ago I settled down at my desk to work. Positive attitude, positive energy flowing. The phone rang. I smiled so the caller would feel my joy.
Within four minutes I got annoyed. After five minutes I was pissed. 30 seconds later I was angry. By the time seven minutes rolled in I was ready to draw my sword and take the caller’s head off. We ended the call. I tossed my phone on the bed, mumbling to myself, “There is a difference between being hard headed and being stupid!” I walked out of my room feeling rage.
Suddenly I caught myself and said, “I prayed not more than 30 minutes ago to accept those things and those people that are what and who they are, please give me the wisdom and peace to know the difference.”
Instead of allowing the stupidity of another’s actions to throw me off my game, I put my things in a bag–all my quarters, my singles, and my camera; took the stairs four flights to the ground floor and out the building. I held the door for someone entering.
Took my camera out, and shot a piece of nature. By the time I walked across the baseball field to reach the other street I had calmed myself.
Standing at the red light I saw more of God’s beauty and captured a few more shots. Went to the bank, made my deposit, then back on the sidewalk seeing even more beauty on this windy 48 degree spring day. I took a few more shots then found myself taking the long way back to the apartment. I realized as I shot that I am in control of me. As long as I remember that I am blessed with an open mind.
I cannot, I should not get angry with one less fortunate. I need to embrace that person with love, hand them over to God and move forward so I can maintain a clear head and a close to pure heart.
I remain a work in progress.
Play nice with the other children on the playground of life. Do not get angry, do not get even. Hand them and you over to God.
A homeless man laid on the ground against a gray concrete building in the City. It was 37 degrees this morning. He was sleeping, suddenly his body jerked hard wakening him violently. He sat up and started yelling, “Get away from me.” “Get away from me.” As the passersby moved to the far end of the sidewalk, he motioned wildly with his arms and hands, still yelling, “Get away from me!”
After a few moments he reached behind the marble pillar he was using to shield his face from the street and pulled out of fifth of SMIRNOFF vodka. It was a quarter full. He took a swig then slowly screwed the top back on it, gently put it back in it’s hiding place. When his hands could be seen again he removed a Newport 100, and lit it with a black bic lighter. He sat in silence taking an occasional drag from the cigarette. Again, he started jerking his arms and waving his hands for the imaginary person to leave his space. He was speaking in a volume that could not be heard beyond where he was sitting on the ground against the gray concrete and marble building. Just as suddenly as he started jerking his arms and waving his hands he stopped. He finished his Newport and flicked it towards the street.
At least one hundred people had passed by him on the sidewalk by now. Many not looking in his direction. A young blonde haired male with black earphones looked at him with disgust as he passed, slowing his stride as he got closer to him to get a better look.
A man in a navy blue wool hat and matching parka strolled down the street. He was carrying a metallic blue stainless steel water bottle in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other slowed his walk as he approached the homeless man. He stopped and smiled at him, handed him the brown paper bag, bid him a good day and walked on. The homeless man looked in the bag then placed it on the outside of the marble pillar. He reached behind the pillar to retrieve the SMIRNOFF bottle, took another swig and put it back, again with a Newport in his hand. He sat and smoked in silence.
People walked up and down the block some rushing to work, a few carrying gym bags, others walked holding a dog leash, their dog at their side. A woman in a mink, a man in a navy pea coat using a blind person’s cane as his guide.
A small girl wearing a pink coat, white scarf, colorful beads adorning her braids looked into her father’s eyes as they got closer to the man, neither said a word. He handed her something. When they got to the man sitting on the cold ground against the building they stopped. She handed him money that was carefully folded in her hand, tears in her eyes she said, “I love you.” The homeless man said nothing as he accepted the money she held out to him. The father fought back his tears, they walked on in silence. The little girl looked up at her father and smiled. He took her hand and they walked on down the street.
The homeless man turned to watch them until he could not see them any longer. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a stack of folded bills. He unfolded his money exposing 20’s, 10’s, 5’s and one dollar bills. He unfolded the money the girl with the braids handed him. He separated the five dollar bill from the single one, put them in their proper place in his stack and put the money back in his pocket.
Just then another man walked up and handed the homeless man a large iced coffee from Starbuck’s and a straw and walked on without a word. The homeless man discarded the white paper from the straw beside him on the ground took a big sip then placed the iced coffee on the window ledge above his head.
As I sat in the warmth of the car ten feet from the homeless man I looked closer at his clothing. He was wearing brown and white suede sneakers not worn or dirty other than the heel of the shoe where it rested against the sidewalk. He had on black socks, a pair of black jeans, not worn or dirty other than the dirt acquired from laying on the ground. He had on a black sweatshirt that appeared to be dirty from laying on the ground as well. His hands were ashy from the cold dry air of the morning.
I looked at the clock on the dash of the car as I turned the key in the ignition to warm the car again. It was 8:50 a.m. I had been sitting there since 7:08 a.m. waiting for my friend to return from her early appointment. The homeless man laid down, crossed his his left leg over his right leg. He rested his left arm over his forehead, and his right arm across his stomach. Five feet away from the homeless man, a man stopped with his dog so he could pee and take a crap on the sidewalk. The homeless man never moved.
The street of passersby began to get quiet as it was now nine a.m. Those that did pass him speeded up their pace as they got closer. A jogger in black running shoes with a white and neon green top flew by the homeless man. He turned on his side shielding his face from the sun and the passersby. He began to tap his foot as if he could hear music.
I saw my girl friend come around the corner. Time to put my paper away and get back in the passenger seat.
Walking back from the post office with a song in my heart and a twinkle in my eye a man stopped me and said, “If we were in my homeland I would take you.” I stood frozen for a moment processing what he said to me. I responded, “That line may be effective for you with some women, but not this woman.” “You need to thank God this is not your homeland because five seconds after you put your hands on me you would be telling Jesus I said Hi.”
What is wrong with men that they actually believe we find flattery in them wanting to bed us?
Most straight men would have sex with all of us…each time I say this to a man he’s never attempted to say, that is not true.
Someone said to me today, “I wish someone would give to me the way I give to others.” I responded, “It does not work that way.” “As long as you are giving because you expect something in return, you are not giving from your heart but from selfishness.”
I was having an MRI done. When the tech finished she said, “I kept looking at you and looking at your chart, I kept telling the others this birth year is wrong.” I laughed. “No, it’s correct.” She said, “What is your secret to looking so young?” This was a great moment to sell her my skin care line. Instead I said, “Give to others from your soul, in pure love, give because your giving is needed.” She said, “your eyes sparkle, you look so innocent.” Again I laughed, “There is nothing innocent about me, I am pure in that I deal from the love within me or I deal from the evil that is within me.” “I prefer to show love, when it is not accepted I walk away.” I rather people not know me as evil.”
We got on the elevator at the Trump Plaza Hotel headed to our room. A singing group got on the elevator with us. One of them looked me up and down, then down and up. He said, “You have beautiful legs.” Before I could say thank you, my companion said, “Thank you.” He looked at me, I nodded my head, just enough to acknowledge that I knew he was speaking to me. He smiled.
Then someone else in the group said, “I heard we are working the Donald Trump party Christmas Eve. A couple of the members of the group let out a long sigh.
After that elevator ride when they were doing a show in my state my companion from the elevator would call me and say, “Everyone is asking for you!” “The guys keep asking me, where is your cool sister?” “She is coming to see us, right.” “You have to come see them.” I asked her to give everyone my love but to express to them that I’m really not into that.”
I learned two things from that experience. First, regardless to them being Grammy winners more times than I can count, they are still the hired help. Second, being humble makes me “cool”.
relationships. From the perspective of being a mother. My children are adults. I do not have the energy to be mommy to when I was not the best mommy to my children.
Besides, you see the word mantic in romantic, yes.
He said, “You can slow dance.”
“Actually, no I cannot.” “Sure you can.” He said. “It is a two step.”
“I can tell that I missed a good relationship in you.” He said.
“Why do you say that?” I responded.
“Because I can feel a dose of tenderness in your voice.” He said, “Come here, let me give you a dose of how I feel about you.” His laughter followed.
“Shut up, you are messing up my flow.”
He said, “Come here let me mess up your hair!”
We were pulling up to the ATM when he responded, “Well since we are no longer competing with each other.”
My mouth agape as I processed the words. “Now that we aren’t competing…” I said, “Competing, Michael, competing!” “What were we competing against?” “Which one of us suck’s dick better?” “This is what’s been wrong with our relationship.”
“Motha Fucker, it is not a competition when both parties are not made aware that it’s a competition.”
I have thought more of you this day than in all the days we have known each other.
I wish we had more time.
The irony of it all.
Had you not let me go–two years seven months later; you are leaving me.
I never told you. My favorite style.
Watching you take your motorcycle helmet off; revealing the blue scarf tied around your head, your dark curls reaching down to touch the nape of your neck; priceless.
The Peace Officer goes thug.
I never told you. My favorite event.
When you rolled around the corner with your friends in that red Jeep and I was sitting on the back of the 325i waiting to whisk you away; hearing all about you strip club experience.
I never told you. My favorite glance.
Each time you looked at me, not then. Now when I remember.
I wish we had more time.
I love you. I want to keep loving you. I leave you now, so I keep loving you.
When our eyes meet again–I leave you now, so I love you then.
I wrote this 3 years ago today. I am reblogging it because it was a great read and I have not shared my thoughts in a while. Odd I logged into WordPress this day.
I did not know it was going to hurt the first time nor the second or third time for that matter. I did not know I was supposed to feel good when it was over either. No one prepared me for either, the beginning, what should occur in the middle and definitely not the end.
What I learned about it, any of it, was from books and first hand experience.
My first hand experience over time showed me it wasn’t about me. In all other aspects of my existence I was being shown (programmed) to accept that “It wasn’t about me.” No matter how expert my techniques—you came to this with your learning and programming too.
A European brotha saw an African brotha’s penis and the envy started, because it was bigger. i.e. bigger house, car, diamond, bank account, friends list, followers, et cetera and so on. In the process…
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