Third day in…so far only four challengers. No Labels, Lamont Clark, Mahogany Dymond and myself. My friend Simone has been doing hers over on Google+ …I’m hoping some more will join in soon. ENTYWAYS…lol
the first thing I heard was
Tina Turner singing,
“rock me baby…rock me alllll night long”
the first thing I think of
is rocks on the edge of water,
smooth with the agitation of the water’s edge
i think of the proverbial
“rock of Gibraltar”
the pillar of strength
the basic idea of fortitude
i hear “rock the boat”
i see rock stars
i think rocking chairs
and rocking babies
and rocking domes
and rocking clothes
while writing this…
that i rock when i write
a gentle sway
as if i’m impatiently waiting
for the words to rock right out of me
(I’m kinda freestyling this challenge so far…bare with me folks, lol)
…a day in middle school
I was in 8th grade. I went to [what was then called] Charles E. Nichols Middle School…affectionately just, “Nichols”.
8th grade was aight. I didn’t have one fight, but I did have a few mitches I couldn’t stand. I had my “crew”…but, I remember by year’s end…we were barely friends anymore. I don’t remember much good about that year. I mean, I survived it.
…our friend Hilary Spruill, however…did not.
I remember being in the gym. Us girls were in the locker room and my play cousin came and told us (in tears) that our friend Hilary had been shot and died. Come to find out…she was with him. They’d been mugged for their coats and I can’t quite remember if Hilary just gave his up or not, but he lost his life over a leather bomber.
We wept for days…
I remembered that…even though I wasn’t super close with him, he was so cool. I remembered an instance where some guy was harassing me in the hallway and Hilary came up and said, “Yo, leave my cousin alone…” and stuck up for me. He asked if I was okay and I said yes and thanked him. He told me that if anyone bothered me for me to tell him. I never forgot that. He barely knew me other than knowing my face around the way…but, he cared.
He wouldn’t be the last friend we lost to violence. We’d unfortunately lose several more friends through High School. A few by gun violence…a couple to sickness…one or two to accidents. I remember far too many deaths for my teen years.
Anyway, yea…that’s my middle school memory. I’ll try to lighten up my HS memory.
|Photo of: Sweet
I LOVE me some Dunkin Donut’s coffee…
“Can I have a large coffee with nine sugars and milk?”
Yea, I said nine sugars. They have that SMALL ASS SPOON that probably is more like 4-5 sugars. LOL
I start my day with this coffee most days. That pic was taken while it was still nice and hot. Isn’t a gorgeous cafe au lait color? The color of old woman’s stockings? LMAO Or maybe the color of water…where a paintbrush with brown paint was dipped and swirled in?
I almost took a pic of my Sweet Baby Ray’s Raspberry Chipotle BBQ sauce…but this pic was more the speed of how my day went. Without this coffee…I would’ve been unduly unprepared for the bullshit that sat before me today. I won’t go into the details but let’s just say that by the time I left work…I was on the verge of tears and anger.
I WILL see this cup of coffee tomorrow, God willing that he wakes me up. I can’t imagine what waits for me tomorrow…but, I know that if I have this perfect cup of coffee…damn near the color of my skin (with no tan)…I’ll be just a LITTLE ahead of the game.
Soooo good…and sweet! 😉
|…he named me.
Last/Most Recent Love…what they meant/mean to you…
Well, the bottom line is that I THOUGHT he was the one, but he wasn’t. Duh…isn’t that almost always the case after we’ve broken up with someone and moved on? Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.
I met him on a social site and maintained a VERY long distance “relationship” for about 2 1/2 years. Never meeting…never consummating the love…always waiting. He swept in at first…a confidante. Eventually, a bond sparked and we were up all night talking and laughing until we fell asleep. (Eventually, it became clear that I wasn’t the only one he did these things with). He was good…
In spite of the things I found out about that brought our time to a close…he taught me some things. He was someone who helped me come out of my shell. He helped me be less fearful and more open to showing people who I am. His charms, concern and humor made me want more of him. The dude had a dynamic and addictive personality…but, I often in the end found myself wondering how much of him was the real him and not the persona he wanted to put forward. He always said that people sent their “representatives” on dates and in the beginning of relationships…and now, I see he was talking about himself.
Marriage was proposed, a powerful life of love was promised…but ultimately it became wisps in the wind. I often times wished he would’ve just asked to be my friend and not perpetrate a relationship that he wasn’t capable of at the time. I wanted to marry him, have a kid or two with him and show him that love didn’t suck like pro hoes. Yet, he showed ME that procrastination and secrets are the killer of dreams and time’s potential.
I sometimes wonder if he and I will ever have the conversation I believe we need to have. That convo that is honest and raw, uncut and truthful, lacking in fear of rejection and without blame. I could’ve lived (and have) with his not wanting me. Hey, to each his own right? What I COULDN’T deal with is being led down a path of delusion and exclusion (of his real life and intentions). He could’ve spared me that heart break. His actions cut deep.
All I know…is that I loved him more than anyone I’ve laid eyes on. Crazy right? Not so much. I believe that how people in LD relationships connect is as real a way to connect as meeting in person. There are little to no hang-ups about physicality. Getting trapped off by lustful yearnings because of what one looks like is a top misleading way people confuse love with other things. I am not ashamed that I loved him in this way. What I wish, is that before I’d given my heart, emailed it and sealed it with an e-kiss…that he would’ve told me that I wasn’t the one…
I can honestly say that I tend to forgive myself for the very things I forgive others for. Sometimes it’s a lapse of judgment or memory. Sometimes it’s a selfish act that brings about immediate regret and sometimes it’s just not knowing any better.
Yet, there is one thing I have to forgive myself for that I tend to kick myself in the ass about. To date it’s the worst crime of all, because it’s part sin and equal hypocrisy. *hanging head in shame*
…I had an emotional affair with a married man.
For months, we talked, bonded and became dependent on each other for the emotional support we didn’t feel anyone else was giving us. It started out as a friendship…and snowballed into loving moments that eventually resulted in us meeting. We were intensely attracted to one another…but something was wedged between us that wouldn’t allow us to go any further. I’m thankful for that “intervention” because I know that I would have NEVER forgiven myself if that would’ve happened.
I ended things. Mostly because I seriously couldn’t live with myself. I couldn’t sleep. It haunted me. I’m such a believer in love and marriage and family…and here I was…”Ms. Kween of Love”…betraying the very thing I yearned for. That alone…was reason for me to get it together. How…HOW could I ask God to give me a dutiful and faithful husband, while I was doing “THIS”. No way. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t how I live. My moment of weakness had allowed me to be consumed by something that was out of my character and I despised myself in my thoughts behind it. So I let it go…unfortunately, a couple of other friendships suffered in the middle of it all and I found myself (in my opinion) paying almost immediately for my sin.
Wow…what a truth. I hope everyone else is keeping it this real or my ass is gonna be the example of the challenge for how real NOT to be. lmao