It’s late and I am in the mood to not sleep, the meds keep it hard to drift off into the late night and the hum of the book I am suppose to be writing highlights the thoughts in my head. Instead Rollbounce plays in the background and I find myself thinking how my thoughts are not the same as they use to be. It’s harder for me to complete thoughts. My clarity of thought is not the same. The tumor that has covered my brain has changed me and I keep thinking has it changed my writing for the better or the worse. I know it has changed the desire in me to write but it’s still their. I am reading more of other people’s work. I am more aggressive in my approach. Or better yet my attitutde is uglier or more aggressive but it takes me to a different place of thought.. the thought or kind of thought that makes me want to know more about progressing the writing further.. who is this writer becoming who will she be. The thing that has not changed is the wanting to write, the wanting to be heard. Now I am thinking of writing the good fight. My auntie sent me a article about th way we need to recycle.. which we should already know but it seems we still don’t. so my idea today is we can at least give it to the homeless guy on the street who is trying to make his dollar ou fo fifteen cents.. that way the responsibility is not ours but we still get the job donewritesometi
Tag Archives: choices
So I have began to fall back on the inhale and exhale of the nicotine silent killer… The new commercial featuring the removal of teeth plays in my head… And then I realized… The more time I talk on the phone… The more the drags extend themselves…. The more I talk on the phone the more the desire to suspend my lungs at death expectancy sooner calls to me…. So I amended behaviors… Indoors, movies, a book something else and now my pack a day I had stepped up yo has been reduced to the impressive number of a pack per five days… The glee in my heArt is profound… Screw you nicotine… I will kick you yet. A girl is human dome days are harder then others…. But I’m making strides.. Oh cigs… We gotta break up… I just don’t want this type of love in my life… You stink… And well u just don’t do the things you use to do.. I mean.. You don’t Dorothea my tattered thoughts… You make me see toothless men, you remind me of dirty days and broken highways…. In the height of morning we may meet… Or after a delicious meal… But doing the meals will be less and then you will be a distant memory… I really just font think I want you anymore!!!
I see you as eyelids touch full cheeks, your face pecan Browning e it against flawless skin, a man of African American lineage made just for me, the tattooed story of your experience hidden by shirts by day, exposed in the dark night to my finger tips, a voice of cool resolve and baritone enticing and assured. Educated by books convicted by experience. A heart large ready to. embrace the passion of the love I have within, no judgment in soulful brown eyes. Your imperfections beautiful. In love with God, you believe in the spirituality of living, the goal of a human soul. Can lead with love, can disagree with grace and emotional honesty, vulnerability doesn’t frighten you, trust leads the line of the things that binds a man to his half. A team is how you approach marriage, ambitious, yet still willing to touch new ground. Fear is nothing more than acknowledging that faith is needed. The mistakes of my past just parts of who I become, total acceptance in those sexy eyes. I dream you real, I dream you of my wants. You hold me in a bed made for two where there are no boundaries on the things we share. Our connection intercepts pain, trust blankets US, protecting us from the devils seeds of jealousy and fearful mistrust. Nothing plant in our garden as we plant beauty of the fruit of spirit, the chains of live that link us to blessing… starting with kindness, then patience, the fore sight of forgiveness, honesty. Our bodies live in the touch of hands, sharing emotion through the elements of attraction. A life of sharing, a life of Ssupport. You back ideas that further my professional goals, read my words, watch me dance, I sit while you work, cheer you on, celebrating each goal you surpass. You fears are whispered in our sanctuary and my bosom lays for you to rebuild your strength. I pick up where you leave off. I offer my body for you to crawl into when the world seeks to threaten what you have built. I am your shelter. In our home you Are the king. Your kingdom your greatest accomplishment. I dream you with an identity. A life with true characters, supporting and leading. I dream you of all the things a man for me would fit perfectly… accepting. Kind, sexy, humble, creative, loyal, passionate, accomplished , able to help me reach the goals I have for me, the writing, the degree, the desire to touch lived, take care of family, enjoy friends, be in love like living is breathing each moment slowly…. I dream you in the vision I see. I dream with purpose. I dream you!
“We are going to drill a hole” with those words I left behind misconceptions, decided that faith has to be the leading thought. I can’t live in the fear that grips the heart of a person and I won’t. I will be this woman that I have grown to be. As I look back at all the days I have cried. All the days that I have let fear lead me.. I find myself evolved in the face of death and I feel pride. So proud of myself. In these days I have felt so much love and support… this is something that I have prayed for. to be closer to my family. To cultivate the type of relationships that last beyond death. When you have lived the kind of life I have, your course of purpose will be in others minds, tainted, sometime thwarted with mingles of bad choices, or executed decisions that are not in your best interest. So while I have sat here in The world renowned… UCLA Medical Center… family, old friends and doctors… all looking to me for my next play… I don’t have anything to say but bring it on course has been drawn. Fear is not an option, direction, drive and making the best is the hour of power.
To make change
You can’t just rearrange
You must act
Take steps left un-taken in this journey already paved
Steady and slow
Don’t hurry, admission waived
Says you know where you begin
You must acknowledge what you know
Interpret old activity
Apply prerequisite lessons passed
Learned precedent of the past
Watch the signs that mark the moments of vitality
The choices, the surroundings, the actions
Change the retraction of previously printed life written moments
The consequence of then
Is the hidden gift of now
The blueprint to the act
That will rewrite the fact
Those days gone, your back here at the same place
Staring in redemptions face
The gate-keeper to serenity
Map of forgiveness
Sacrifice selfish choice
Hear the inner voice of change
Rearrange the old actions
Mold what is learned to what is
Given to rebuild
Honesty, character, and fortitude the gifts of sincerity in the acts of facing the wrongs of the past.
A foundation redefined by growth
Pledge the oath of trust
First to self
Can’t change fact,
Only the act in which you stand
Create new memories
As the journey nears its end , cross roads, signs, obstacles so much like before
Leave self in the grasp of those left infected
Reveal the scars of regret, the desire to be forgiven
the cure to what is done is change
You can’t just rearrange
You must act
Knowing what comes next, is a thought that is percieved as if knowing, will in some way keep you from the darkness of life. The disappointment, the lost, the pain, the rejection. If we just know what is going to be, we can somehow make each day full of something possible positive. Hope, faith, belief, we find these cast wrapped around our broken moments, days. The memories are settled into these infinite cast of knowing that with each obstacle left to heal in it’s aftermath will one day mend, and that cast can be removed and the truth of the repaired perception will give us rehabilation. A new route to the already destined destination of our lives. If we only knew what the next maze held, a resting place, a new travelor to connect with,a dragon breathing it’s heat of new pains, a well with new gains. If only I knew what was coming next, I would be able to survive the step to the end. Yet knowing is only a crutch, how many identical steps would we ultimately take… most likely more than a few. Knowing does nothing but make you accountable for being accountable for each choice. In living with the unknown we begin a novice, able to wear the naviety with pride, instead of shame. I have known, I have seen, but didn’t learn. If only I didn’t have to wonder about what was coming next I would be free.. free to live, to learn, to own each choice golden, each choice failed, and each choice of undefined.
It’s not easy, not easy putting on a brave face, acting as if everything is okay. Feeling lost and unsure of the next moment, the next step. It’snot easy just having faith that everything will work out. On the outside looking in, the perceptions of their stares defeat. Living for each day, and living for there expectations. Caring what other people think, rebuilding bridges to understanding and trust is no easy job. You smile, you nodd, you try… and once again your like a child. Being an adult in transition, rebuilding, with nothing is not easy. You don’t want to show up, because you don’t want to explain. It is not easy being right here in this moment, in this place, with these eyes looking at each move made to see if it will be another mistake, another lit match that will once again end in flames.
It isn’t easy caring what people think, caring about tomorrow, and rebuilding. Oprah can talk to a thousand public figures with big bank accounts about the next moment, the next chapter, and I am not saying it’s easy for them, yet i know the non factor of money makes it a lot more simple to rebuild the bridges. You get moments to exhale, to breath, to not worry about the eyes watching. The expectations of those who have already beared the rath of your ill advised decisions, accidents and plain ole wrong doings, mistakes, whatever you want to call them.
I wonder if they look at the eyes that search for clues of activities when away, the eyes they search for lies as responses, and see the sadness, the tired grind of living up to rebuilding. I wonder if they see how hard it is to believe that things will get better, when your best just isn’t what they hoped it be.
It’s not easy changing. Each moment, Each hour, Each day is a task of believing in yourself, in believing that while they may say they support you, that the thoughts they have deep down are wrong. If only I could close a door, lock it, and just be with me for a moment, to regain belief that it will indeed be okay, that this present is just that, another present that will be survived.
It isn’t easy knowing what really happened. It isn’t easy knowing that the decision to change wasn’t because it was so bad but because you couldn’t act like you didn’t care anymore. It isn’t easy knowing the truth you never tell, the secrets you keep so you can make it to another day.
It isn’t easy to say…. I did what you asked, I did what was right, I did as God told me to, yet I still seem to pay everyday for yesterday. It isn’t easy saying I did pray, I do pray, but I still seem to be here anyway. It isn’t easy hiding the tears, forcing them down so I don’t hear it said again you just need to pull it together, and figure it out. It isn’t easy just sitting and never saying with loud piercing words… Yeah I know I need to get it together, and maybe you don’t like looking at me like this… but think about how it feels to live it.. ashamed, embarrassed, tired and beat down inside.
I do have faith that it will all be okay, but faith doesn’t soothe the burns of rejection, or stop the bleeding of lacerated failure.
Faith is the possibility of a better time tomorrow, if I just get through today. I will fall to my knees and pray… God please forgive me for the sin of my fear that it won’t be okay. Please forgive me for looking around and just wanting to surrender this life. I will do all I can to not wrong my fellow man, but I am not so good at not wronging me. Im starting to see the reflection in their eyes, starting to believe what they see, that’s easier than being me.
I’m tired dear God, so sad, so weak. It isn’t easy changing. Not sure what you want me to learn from this lesson, or where your plan for my life might lead. Will I be the example, the disciple, the mean, or the end? I’m asking dear God for just a small glimpse, just something to give me that last bit of tenacity I need, so I don’t turn back and go to the old. I don’t want to fold. I want to play, dear God just show me the way. It’s all I need to make it look easy once again. Make it easy to smile, to finish this last green mile.