I Was Told...

"OMG, you are so f*ck'in fine!!! Damn!!"

As crass as that was, it was her way of saying I was attractive...and I could care less lol  I walked 5th ave in Brooklyn tonight.  The blocks going from gritty to livable in about 4 miles.  In my hand a bottle of red my boy had left to spare over at his place and good looking female passersby giving me attention.  I'm sure I'm not the most attractive man on the planet but at the risk of sounding conceited...I still look damn good and I intend on aging extremely well lol

To be real though, what did the attention do for me?  I know some people need external recognition to find validation but if your looks define who you are then as you age you will think yourself a piece of sh*t.  What good will you be without attention?  What else do you have besides a big ass or lots of muscle?  Have you ever bothered to put as much effort towards yourself internally as you do for everything external?  As I was eating with my boy an attractive woman obviously lingered and kept looking my way.  As if to let me know she was open for an invitation.  I sized it up in 5 minutes and just kept eating.  I had no interest.  I played it out in my head and it's flavor was bland.  Yeah, you want what you see but then what?  Will you care to stick around?  Do I even want you to?  Or did I just want another story to tell my friends about?  I just don't know anymore.  I'm not one to string anyone along pretending to be solid while I wriggle internally like spaghetti and the truth is right now...I feel like spaghetti lol  I just think about what they want and what they see.  I think about the aftermath.  Who will still do the "cat call" when I've grown too old for choices?  Who loves what I am as opposed to what I just look like?  That is a lifetime away for me but I think about these realities to keep me grounded and selective.  What do I want?  I have no idea anymore which in turn leaves me wanting absolutely nothing...spaghetti out lol

Oh Well...Part Deux

I was right and wrong about what came down the pike at me.  I was right about something coming but I was wrong on it's impact.  What should've been surprising...surprisingly wasn't.  I've been over this sh*t for awhile now and although what was presented to me disappointed me...I was not surprised in the slightest.  I already knew all that was sent to me would happen.  It has been months since I even looked in a certain direction yet some people insist on tinkering with emotions they don't understand.  They just don't know when to quit and as for retaliation?  That would just continue the cycle so..."C'est la vie." 

Folks I write this exclusively for myself and whichever a**hole thought it cute to send me all that drama.  No one should have power over you unless you decide to give it to them.  All that I saw was "sad" but when the dust of it all settled, I really began to ponder on it and came to a conclusion.  How could something hurt me that I expected to happen?  The steps backward, the usual suspects (both old and new), the f*ck it attitude and a burgeoning future filled with late night bar bathroom stalls and short term memory loss.  All egged on by people that should care enough to say "slow down" but don't because they think the fiasco "funny" and thus "fun".  Everything that hindered the "subject" in the email...attitudes, ideas and actions.  All brought back as something "new".  Funny but according to what I was shown, this "new life" looked just like the old one.  It's like taking a sh*t and finding a way to shove it all back inside yourself.  That's what I found "sad".

Some may feel the need to do that to "forget" the past.  Something that is an impossibility.  I know that in my past I have been hurt but I also know what that hurt burned out of me.  Every pain in life, every struggle is meant to show you something about yourself.  What needs to die and what needs to live and thrive.  What is dead and burned must stay that way.  Discarding the bad while retaining the good that one may keep growing from there.  Looking backwards past the point of pain is a fools scope that removes anything you could have learned from that painful experience.  I cannot deny the truth that great writings came from my pain.  The pain of loss and "not enough".  The pain of missing someone and distance.  All that I wrote was real and reading it again brings me to near tears because it was beautiful...it was pure.  To forget all that happened would mean those pieces were never written and the passion behind them was never real.  Well guess what?  It was real and I will not deny that part of my life no matter how much pain and anger acknowledging it brings me.  I shut myself in to be able to come to a place of peace without anesthesia or distraction.  To stare at my sorrow until it sickened me so that I may understand it without emotion.  Doing so, I came to a place of gratitude for the good times and a place of disgust for the bad.  Yet I am wiser as to where my heart lay from now on.  My only problem is that my new attitude has me lacking the desire to lay it anywhere else...

So having said all this; if in fact all the accounts that were ridiculously shared with me are accurate...who gives a sh*t anymore?  I gave a sh*t when I mistakenly thought it would make a difference...why bother now when I know for certain it doesn't?  So to the person that sent me that info, thanks but no thanks.  Try to find another way to f*ck with me...that sh*t is played out already lol 

Oh well...

There it went...Irene.  I expected to awaken and find dripping water off my ceiling.  Last time it rained this much something that looked like a D-cup sized breast formed over my kitchen before having to fix it myself.  This time though...no breast lol 

Slept well amidst the storm.  Had a weird dream though, almost like something bad is coming.  Honestly, I can't take anymore sh*t comin my way.  I just awoke with a type of tension I can't explain.  I just pray everyone I know is ok...

Oh Irene...what have you done?

The beginning of a heavy storm has me wanting to try something a little different...gratitude.  I think at 37 years old I have a lot to be thankful for.  Beyond just my health and standing.  Beyond just life and love.  Even though I may complain to have so little I can't help but see that I truly have been blessed more often than not.  I have lived a life that most at my age are just trying to navigate through and even though it may have been hard, I feel good to have made it through with honors.  I have two boys I am so proud of...the most beautiful of things in my life.  God's greatest gift to me of which nothing can compare.  I have friends and people that love me without interest or motive...only because they chose to know me, accepting the truth of me without guile.  I have a father that has become my friend and ally throughout this crazy journey of mine while he trudges on his own.  A triune set of mothers whose prayers for me reach the Father's ears as a constant even though I could always be a better son to them.  Yet something else struck me as the heavy rain took me down a memory lane through this digital panorama of photos...

In my life I have had the privilege of loving two women with a passion unrivaled.  Both ending differently...one sweet, one sour but both with a pure desire and a skin-tearing passion.  How many can say that?  How many can really truly feel that?  The heat of anger and lust.  The pure desire and passion for another that has you wanting to just be around them?  To be in such a thing can be heart wrenching but looking from the outside in...it is true passion.  I hear of "dates", "hook-ups" and "busting a nut" but rarely do I ever hear the pure words of passion uttered from the lips of men...or even women for that matter.  That speech is saved for poetry and song when it should be spoken in whisper from the truest of hearts.  It truly is harder as a single man to bear such a standard for intimacy.  With a wife, at least you have only one outlet for that desire.  Something more beautiful than the most expensive ring...exclusive only to her.  Yet where does it go as a single man?  My writing gets most of it now...

Thank you Irene...you have served me well. 

I Listen...

...to stringed instruments at night while sipping my blended tea mix that soothes the mind and relaxes the body.  Yet I can't help but worry about my tomorrow.  My aim is steady and my heart is set but my strength can wane...I refuse to allow that to happen.  It's 1:53 AM and I think of so many things at this hour...so many things run across my mind.  Things my heart longs for and things I know I can no longer have.  I long for a future where certainty is a given and ease is commonplace.  The easy breath of life where I know everyone I love is fine...including me.  I cannot forget the past as I wear it's scars like war wounds but it no longer has the grip on me it once had.  I am accepting and resigned to certain truths.

I know now that I have no second half.  I have no endgame.  I am one that is right now.  My moment is me at my best.  Stick around and you will see me at my worst.  Something only a few can handle before they realize I'm really just a man.  A man with flaws like anyone else.  I never pretended to be otherwise.  What sets me apart is that I'm honest.  Something that forces me to be better than I was yesterday.  I can't lie to God so I can't lie to myself.  Some people can carry a false existence for a long time but I can't stomach a second of it.  If I see something in me that needs fixing, I cannot rest easy until it's done.  I know what I need to change but you will never know it because it usually will only affect my outlook.  Something that never affects you in the immediate but could in the long run.  I will not "live with" this or that nor will I find a crutch...whatever my "issue"...it needs to die.  That's all I am people...honest. 

Speaking honestly, the truth about me is that I used to believe certain things I no longer believe today...for myself at least.  I used to believe in forever when it came to temporal things yet I have found that forever when left up to man...is finite.  All man knows about forever is that it has a beginning and as such...it must have an end.  I will live my life the best I can with whatever time my Lord graces me with before He decides to take me home.  I will enjoy my children, my friends, my planet and what little true love I can find along the way.  I will leave forever to my soul and my Lord but as for me...I will live right...right now...

Good night

Earthquake NYC...

What a day for drama in my town.  I went jogging and as I ran, I began to notice the masses spilling out of buildings.  I take off my headphones to ask what happened..."earthquake".  Okay?  Are my running shoes that comfortable?  Or was it much ado about nothing?  I guess people are jumpy since 9/11 but aside from the hubbub and Sprint lines being down for a few hours all was well.

My son made it onto his High School Football team and I can already see it will challenge him to be more than he is right now...a welcome occurrence.  As for me, all I will say is that I had one hell of a night.  Twists and turns that will anger anyone into action.  Creating in me a pissed off resolute man that carries a ton of hard muscle and a heart made of steel that bleeds every once and a while.  I'm angry...I'm pissed.  I WILL be and do all I said I would.  Why? because I said so... 

I guess it's time to blow some sh*t up...I think I'll start with... 

A Funny Thing Happened Today...

I found myself explaining the realities of insecurity to a teenager that had just been left unexpectedly for being "too good to be true".  He was dumbstruck because he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he'd done wrong.  Why did she leave?  What did he do wrong?  Was he was too much for her to believe?  Too much character?  Too much affection?  All that she was looking for was right there and it just couldn't be real.  It's all just one big dream.  So she wakes herself up by saying goodbye and goes back to a world where boys just don't really care.  A world where all men want is one thing...a world that makes more sense to her.

I know that teenage love is fleeting but when the same happens in adulthood, it can be depressing if you don't have answers.  I had to explain to him that some girls just really don't know what they're worth and in the world of adulthood that lack of self-worth is reinforced by the experience of "the asshole".  I can't tell you how many amazing women I have come across that think themselves "less" because the "boys" they've allowed into their lives drove that fallacy home to the point of believability and acceptance.  They belittle their women into submission knowing these women could better them at any time.  The "boys" that do this are beneath their women and they know it.  They do their best to make them feel like they will never find anything better than them by belittling them at every turn.  A real man encourages his women to excel and move past them out of sheer love for their soul.  Real men that are rare these days...

A wise man once shared his experience of a similar loss with me.  He spoke...I just listened;

"...I really tried to show her I was different.  She asked for my help for change and all I saw was what she could become...something that eventually would be too good for me.  Something I was afraid of but something that my love for her would need to see through.  A process doomed to fail by it's disingenuous motive.  Something that should have been for her was really just another attempt to make me happy and that is not true change.  In the end, she didn't believe I was real and when I asked her to leave, it was almost as if she had a set plan for what she considered an eventuality.  She always expected to leave.  All measures were half-hearted on her part because she just couldn't accept that I could love her that much or that my love was that pure.  Hers in fact...was a self-fulfilling prophecy.  It broke my heart..."

The teenager, the adult...whats the difference?  The teenager has years of experience to gain ahead of him.  To either reinforce his strengths and self-worth or reinforce his weaknesses and self-doubt.  The adult has years of experience behind him.  Where he can either pick up on where he is strong reinforcing his self-worth or sulk on where he is weakest reinforcing his self-doubt.  Each one has it's own voice.  One says "you can" the other says "forget it".  Which voice will you listen to when the time comes?  Where do the voices come from?  Figure it out... 

Woman or man, if your partner is everything you've wanted, if he or she is seemingly giving you their best, please reciprocate with the same energy and fervor that you see...it might just be real.  If it turns out to be false, at least you will know for certain that it's failure was not your fault.  Be true, be real...be passionate.

As for you "amazing woman".  If I ever get a chance to meet you again, please believe me when I say "you are amazing"...I actually mean it... 

Tu Recuerdo

"Tu Recuerdo"

This is a song that asks an honest question; "Is it in my best interest to remember you?".  A question to whose answer ultimately is; "Maybe not...but I do anyway".  It's a sweet tune sang with a smile but if you understand the lyrics, I guarantee you will relate.



Tonight...

I found solice in a pit.  A place of such simplicity and commonality that most of the upper echelon would wipe the seats before sitting down.  An unassuming hooka bar in Brooklyn made me feel nostalgic about my time in Bahrain.  This place, although a pit by our standards, was way and above fancier than the smoke filled rooms run by Ethiopian women in Bahrain.  We just sat and talked "life" as the hooka pipe was passed around.  No one got into a fight.  No one made a pass at anyone.  No one was looking to "hook-up" and no one threw up.  That is what I call easy.  No pretense...no bullsh*t.  Just a good night.

There were quite a few spots like that I went to in Bahrain.  Dives where locals would just sit and relax.  Folks, it's nice to see the monuments and the attractions those places have to offer but the most interesting places and people are usually found in spots the locals inhabit.  Some people are too good to go beyond their hotels and tour guides but I can tell you that the best times I've had anywhere were in places most have never been.  As I type this, I am beginning to feel the pull to travel again as I settle things at home.  I even feel a pull towards the middle east...maybe even Iraq.  Wherever that may be, the next time I do travel, I trust that I will heed my own advice.

On a side note, I have finally written the foreword to my book.  Even if I did nothing else for a few more weeks...the reading of it has me excited.

Casi Casi...

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