Black Girl In The City.

Catch 22.
November 27, 2008, 8:44 am
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Alicia Ayala

Conversations with my past.

“I want to believe things are different but I just don’t know.”

Was he talking about his baggage or mine? Ok so, both of us got in the way of each other after an unforseen circumstance that tore the relationship to pieces. And now that I think back on it, as much as we’d both been through over the years, being forced to endure the irony that life shoves in your face at just the right time can jack everything up…with some people it’s just not that simple.

My response to his statement felt more like a plea for my defense, trying my best to explain where I was, where I’d been and where I feel I’m going. A little awkward but of all people I could trust with the truth, it would be him.

“You gotta realize that I’m not the same girl you met when at seventeen, I’m not the chick that hurt you ‘back’ when I was in my 20’s…who’ll I’ll be 10 years from now? No clue but I just know I’ll be better. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Uh huh,” he said. It wasn’t like one of those ‘yea yea yea’ Uh huh’s, it was more like an ‘I’m pondering what you just said’ kinda Uh huh. The one’s where a breathy silence falls shortly thereafter.

“So why do you still eat alone?”

I didn’t know if I was speaking to a brick wall, deaf ears or a stunned freak but he really didn’t have much to say besides the question at the end. What was it his business anyway? With the exception of detailing the baby mama ex-wife drama, he didn’t say much more in the relationship I remembered either. I empathized with his frustrations in trying to do the right thing and it never being good enough. A single father of one and then two others children he fought tooth and nail to see, I could understand the strain. All in all he’s a good person and one of those that do take care of responsibility no matter what. But I think he let the drama poison him and then us.

But he’s the one that’s been around the longest. The one I feel most comfortable with, the one I can tell anything and not feel afraid or ashamed. The one that I know beyond the shadow of a doubt would take care of me even on his deathbed. He was the one that put a temporary hold on our Saturday play date to have two new tires put on the front of my car because they needed to be replaced. Not because he was cakin’ or trying to get something from me, but because he actually gave a shyt about my well being without asking anything in return. That for me is rare.

So we’ve been having a lot of these talks lately. Like, what if we tried to make it work, and what if we took it one day at a time. What if we approached each other fresh and worked hard to let go of the past. The what if’s sound good and comfortable, but the fact that we’d have to find a very large home for five kids and an SUV kinda scares me just a little. I like my city life and would be satisfied with a roomy townhome over a house in the hills. And who’s to say the lingering drama wouldn’t trickle into the household? What if, what if, what if. What if I really did pass on my Cali dreams for the sake of having stability and family? What if like everything else this is a catch 22 and what if he’s old news for a reason?

Think I’ll continue to eat alone (for now).
-black girl.

walking forward…
November 2, 2008, 1:57 am
Filed under: The Fact of the Matter... | Tags: ,


Not too long ago I went back to something I thought I wanted to taste just once more. No real reason but for the pure curiosity of sealing an old deal for old times sake. And maybe a few other reasons too but…now that the thrill has come and gone I can say something I thought I wouldn’t be able to say for a long while. The hold is no longer. Gotta keep walking forward but still, its all love. I’m just thankful that the door has finally closed.

-black girl.

writer’s log: hearing my voice.
October 10, 2008, 10:00 am
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Rosario Dawson | Sexalicious

Mic check, one-two-one-two. Hello my name is black girl and this is my voice…

Since I’ve been putting work out there, a majority of feedback I’ve been getting from editors, publishers and peers is that they like ‘my voice’. “I can literally hear what you’re saying,” one editor commented, “you have a way with stirring one’s senses. Good stuff.”

I’ve written all of my life because that’s just my way. That’s how I made the world clear enough for me to make sense of. From the day I could write my own name I’ve had a love affair with the art of written expression. A passive-aggressive internalist to the say the least, writing made me the great puzzle solver and riddle ruler. The diva of enlightenment and one of much wisdom. Only because I took the time to figure it all out. And if there’s anything in this world and my life that needs sorting through, best believe you’ll find written record of the process somewhere in close proximity. But only if it moves me.

Game’s a little different now. I’m in the batting cage and have begun the conscious effort to strengthen my craft and strengthen my voice. Studying different styles. How other writers express themselves and assemble their thoughts into packaged meaning. Impressive writing floating around out there. I’ve seen others try, struggle and actually pull off a great piece. Others obviously don’t read their own shyt before putting it out there (I’m good at doing that). The rest of it…well it’s either prima material or it just is what it is. Though all of it art, I see that an understanding and respect for aesthetic writing makes the point that much more delightful and the expression of voice that much hotter.

Even though I’m my own worst critic and can attest to shredding my own words to bits, I still find what I do amazing and certainly won’t let a drop go to waste. My struggle of the moment is focusing and channeling something I’ve allowed to run haphazard, pulling it out whenever I felt like it. Having to write on cue and organize my thoughts isn’t always a walk in the park, but its vital for creative survival. Gritting my teeth but digging the lessons and skills gained all the same. In fact, it’s a nerve wrecking but necessary eye opening experience. Interpreting the world in what I’ve come to know as my own voice is a turn-on so I’m with this process of making my voice harder, faster, stronger. Besides, you’re only as good as the last thing you’ve written right?


-black girl.

blame it on the allure.
September 27, 2008, 8:39 am
Filed under: The Fact of the Matter... | Tags: ,

Christina Myers

“So what, you’re a lesbian now?” I was running errands on a Tuesday afternoon and knocking out phone calls all the same. This particular call being with my favorite go-go agent. We were having a periodic checkin. T’s girl on girl blurb came in the midst of him attempting to explain the rationale behind going to two different New York Deli’s just to assemble one egg and cheese croissant. Crazy shyt.

“Why don’t you cook?” I asked.

“I don’t have time,” he said mumbling words to someone in the background. I only new it had something to do with the late breakfast he was trying to order.

“Where’s your girl?”

“At work,” he laughed with ‘where in the hell did you think she’d be’ undertones.

I left that one alone…changed the subject.

“Oh my gosh I ate way too much over the weekend and can’t even think about food.” I went on to explain how I’d chosen to skip penis handouts, dress up super cute and frolic around the city stuffing my face with the Gucci crew. That would be Kimora, Nik, Elaina this go round. Twist for early dinner Saturday, Brunch at Brio Sunday, dinner at Cheesecake Sunday night. Are you serious? Sometimes I just go overboard and my tummy is still laughing at my ambitious goal to bask on one sunny patio after another like I’m Cleopatra or somethin.

How T and I got from egg & cheese breakfasts to lesbians is beyond my call but nothing is impossible when verbally engaged with either of us two. Did I set out and subsequently achieve my ultimate quest to get me shum last weekend? Heckz NO. As of yesterday I hadn’t gotten nada. Not because it wasn’t there – and if I really wanted to keep it real, I would say not even because I arranged for the boom boom jump off twice and….bailed both times. I’m not really sure exactly why I chickened out despite my body calling like the sweetest R Kelly jam, but I know one thing: I’ve surely surprised myself!

T’s rationale for me turning down a little pole action last weekend despite my virginal walls impersonating Home Depot’s lowest grade sand paper was that I was a lesbian. Man, what? How could a woman like Black Girl go soooo long without getting it to win it and not be gay? Are we talking about penises or umbilical chords here? I can exist without the sex. Or can I?

It’s only when you stop doing something for a certain period of time that you gain clarity and see the depth in which you’ve been engulfed by that habit. Sex addict? Nah, I think I had other, deeper reasons and motivators that have seemingly cured themselves with age, wisdom and time so…why mention them now. But now that I’ve given it thought I think it’s the allure that keeps me tied to my own sexual desire. The allure of many things. The chase and challenge. The allure of the scent on his shirt when he walks past me for the first time. The allure of enjoying something new…something different. The allure of wondering the next move or even calculating outcomes. This thing, allure, seems to be the criminal that keeps me going back even though I’d like to go in a direction that’s the better way. Hence my back and forth and psycoschizoidism in whether or not to get me meez or leave it be.

I unno. I just can’t see myself being ‘sex’ less until I come across the fairy tale relationship that we’re all taught to dream for. Of course I’d like to save it for the best man but am I being realistic or too hard on myself? Playing make believe with my choice of the season will most certainly have to do and I’m probably going to have to let myself just be… Me.

-black girl.

some real advice from a saucy latina
August 21, 2008, 6:20 am
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“You have better s*** to do with yourself than to linger on with mess [black girl]! You can’t make people see things the fair and just way or however you think they should. That would be way too easy. You haven’t lost anything so stop bitching about it and let it be.”

I was in my bed. On my back. Trying to count the number of times a single blade in my ceiling fan passed a certain point. I just wanted to go to sleep but couldn’t, so I figured a therapy session with my long time friend C. would be a viable option. I knew she would blast me for the recent chain of events concerning something I’d chosen to leave behind, but I needed a good reprimand from a native Brooklyn hard ass that takes no prisoners when it comes to business, family and just plain old life.

C. and I went to middle school together in DC. She was always the popular flashy girl that had all of the latest trends and pretty jewelry. She was always put together. I, on the other hand, was a habitual fashion offender: hammer pants, turtle necks, patent shoes with ribbon laces, Malcolm X t-shirts long enough to be dresses, cut off shorts that my mom wouldn’t let me cut above the knees (does that make them shorts or capris?), blue glasses big enough to set an entire city ablaze if used to reflect sunlight… I – WAS – A – MESS. I’ve never been the fashionably obsessed type. I just go with what’s practical and keep it simple for the sake of reputation lol. The way C. and I met was kinda funny now that I think about it…

Does anyone remember trapper keepers? If you don’t than you’re too young to be reading this anyway lol. You’ll find out why I asked that in a second. C. and I linked up in the 7th grade through her older brother, a dream boat eighth grader whom I’d had a horrible crush on since the 6th grade. He was the only cat in school with a full mustache and ‘real’ gold rope chain. One night my friends and I were at a basketball game where my sole purpose was to be seen by this guy. Not knowing who she was I chatted with other members of the nerd crew about my crush…giggling like banchees within her earshot. Later, at half time she caught me in the bathroom messing around with my 3 layer, 3 color slouch socks and brand new Keds I’d saved just for that night. Making sure my bangs were perfectly feathered and the lipstick I’d stolen from my mom’s prized Chanel collection hadn’t smeared , C. came behind me in the mirror, stood there and just stared at me smacking gum like a hungry cow.

I thought she wanted to fight lol. Balled up my fists by my side and said, “Can I help you?” Forgot to mention that C. is a little 5 foot Latina firecracker that tells it like it is without caring what anyone else thinks. A mouth that got her into plenty of fights, C. could have cared less and used that hustle to her advantage as I would later find out in our adult years. Each brawl she had made her foul spanish cursing mouth 10 times bigger just to spite her enemies. I secretly wished I could be like that.

“My brother aint gonna like you with those big ass glasses,” she said. She leaned in close and whispered this tidbit of unsolicited advice in my hear. Her breath smelled like Big Red gum. A scent mixed with some weird smelling perfume to create a concoction I’ll never forget. Shyt stunk for real. Before I could turn around to say ‘what the hell’ she’d snatched my glasses off and unraveled the scrunchie that held up my then shoulder length hair.

“Get rid of these. Take down that hair and take off that red ass lipstick.” Needless to say a few weeks of coaching and advice got me noticed and granted me the title of the ‘7th grader to be envied by the entire school for dating her brother , Milton.’ A puppy love short lived because I was tired of the hate notes and stalkers. lol I’d gotten into two bathroom fights and another in the cafeteria where I beat the begeezies out of a girl named Myrna with my trapper keeper for saying something slick. Myrna was six feet, captain of the girl’s basketball team, and the only reason I won the fight was because I was standing on a table and fought dirty. Needless to say I was tired of spending my days in ISS and detention and decided I would lay down my title. I can’t fight worth a shyt.

Although the ‘steady’ status was short lived, C and I remained close friends until I left and moved to Atlanta when I was 14. We stayed in touch by phone and letters and eventually email before losing touch for a years. We found each other on facebook! She’d come a long way since middle school and her mouth and willingness NOT to take shyt from anyone got her into high places in the entertainment world. She now lives in L.A. with her husband and three little boys where she holds a highly coveted executive position at one of the largest record labels in the world. Our friendship was rekindled at just the right time in my life. I needed that close circle of folk around me to keep it real and not sugar coat their thoughts on the often times dumb shyt I do despite my inner wisdom. Fast forward to last night’s phone call…

Because C. knows all of the major cities in the states by the back of her hand I thought she would be the best person to consult on my future move to Los Angeles and how to make it as a writer there.

“I aint moving until I know I can do it 120%,” I said.

“Why the hell you wanna come here? These people are CRAZY!” Her youngest son was screaming something mad in the background, “You can write from anywhere.”

“I just feel like that’s the best option. I gotta get the heck out of Atlanta, been here too long and need a change,” I said.

“Change from what? Atlanta’s budding with new things. Get your ass in the swing and make your moves,” she said.

I hesitated. Still watching the ceiling fan before looking away. I was getting dizzy.

“Ahhh…that shyt again. If I told you once I’ve told you a trillion times, (something in Spanish goes here lol).”

“Say what?”

“Let it go.”

“Oh.” I just closed my eyes and prepared myself for ‘the speech’.

“You always hold onto things that you’re not supposed to. Just like you held on to my brother even after every crusty lipped girl in the school wanted to fight you over him. You have to ask yourself when enough is enough and its time to walk away chica.” She always talked to me with authority…same way she did the first day we met. She didn’t know but I looked up to her a lot. (well I guess she knows now! Lol)

“I know I know I know.” Honestly I wasn’t in the mood to hear the speech but I’m glad I listened without tuning her out. C. is a very wise woman.

Her advice was so uplifting that I asked her to type it in an email and send so I could share it with you guys. Here it is..

“[my name]. Learn to move on and stop going back to what is familiar. You’re going to keep running in circles and you need to stop doing this to yourself. I hate to say it but everything you do after you’ve made a decision to let something go is totally your fault. You keep opening the door to old s**** and causing yourself unnecessary grief!!!!!! If I were there I would smack you just to make you see straight. If you say things are in the past, why are you still communicating with [them] or even writing about it? Live by that and stop being sissy girl. Why are you checking up on [them] when you know their point of view is only going to upset you? I don’t want to hear about you being angry or wanting to run to another city because you don’t want to be around things associated with your past. Newsflash: your past is your memory. You cannot run from that so no matter where you go it will be there. Stop worrying about what [they] or anyone else says or thinks and be comfortable knowing that you are wise and gifted enough to make the right decisions. Like you said people are only going to see what they want to whether it is from an objective point of view or not. Stop holding on to s**** that’s not intended to be in YOUR LIFE!! That means cut off all ties and swaddle your ass right along. [they] are just one tiny sliver of the life that you have lived and are living. I read your last blog and yes you need to stop being so f**** nice to everybody. I’ve told you about this and you have to curb it now if you ever wanna survive in LA. If it’s one thing that Latinas have it’s our pride and loyalty. Have pride in you and cherish your talents by only being loyal to those things that deserve your energy and attention. I don’t even think you realize how powerful you are and how your words affect people. Once you do and start walking in that [them] will be a distant memory and you will care less about what they or anyone else says about you. Who gives a f**** about the shit their on? We’ve talked about that ‘truth behind it all’ stuff before. You know and see the truth and that’s what matters. Take it and move on. You’re allowing things that DON’T MATTER to take you from what you’re supposed to be doing with your talents. [they] was only a vehicle to jump start and get you to the position you are in now. You always do this and you have to avoid those distractions at all costs. Leave it be and leave them be also. Let them silently wallow alone while you do what’s needed to continue as planned. Stop letting stuff and fools affect you like you allow them too. I hate to break it to you but sometimes you have to throw up the middle finger and the peace sign and say forget it if you know you’ve done your best. And send me your resume heifer. We need writers and I know you can do it. Love you. Keep up the blog…it’s a working portfolio ya know. People in high places are watching you. Besos.”

I have friends that give me a lot of advice on a lot of things as I do for them. A fair exchange of encouragement and openness is what all we need to keep things moving. Right before I got her email I’d sent one to someone that I probably shouldn’t have but what’s done is done. Guess some things are just better left alone.

Gots ta let it do what it do baby! (Thank you C.)

-black girl.

pure randomness
August 5, 2008, 1:38 pm
Filed under: The Fact of the Matter... | Tags:


Brainless Action & Tri-Sexual Luke Girls

For the first time in months I sat down and watched the silliness we call entertainment and television. I needed to do something brainless because I felt like my own was in an over drive race of hyperactivity. I wanted to stop thinking, if just for a second so TV would be just the thing. Decided to watch VH-1’s “I Wanna Work for Diddy”. It was cool but not what I expected. The teaser was pretty fly but the show was kind of a let down.  I’m interested to see what the ratings were. I wonder if he would top Tyler Perry’s break onto the primetime scene. Tyler vs. Diddy. Interesting. Maybe I wanna work for Diddy. Then again…maybe the hell not! Lol Luke the freak nasty is following Snoop’s footsteps with his own reality show titled “Parental Advisory”. After this line I calmly turned the television off and went on about my business… “In order to be a Luke girl you must be tri-sexual…willing to try anything.” OMG. When he said this he was talking to his wife. Later I wondered, damn – does that me Imma a tri-sexual?

Screwdrivers, knives and FIRE! WTF?

I won’t lie and say that moving along with life as usual without someone that I felt I needed and needed me is going to be easy. This was what I was afraid of though. Breaking away from a close bond for the sake of healing yourself is hard. Actually, this year has been hell for me in that regard because I just can’t seem to get it right. If you date a guy for three months and have sex with him and it’s wack you’re disappointed. If you date a guy that is your polar opposite for the sake of doing something different you soon realize that the two of you have nothing in common just like you knew to begin with. If you give too much you lose someone you care about because you feel a certain way. If you don’t give enough you are selfish. If you give the same something else is fucked up…like the psycho baby momma that hates your guts because she thinks you stole her man. lol I’ve been threatened with screwdrivers, knives, fire! I mean, WTF? Now I am all out of answers and back to square one yet again, minus one of the few friends I thought I had. The thing I hate is the time vested into something that leaves you empty handed with just a lesson learned and a slap on the wrist. 2008 has slapped the shyt out of me and told me it is for my own good lol. I’m tired of so many damn lessons. I’m that kid in class watching the clock praying for the dismissal bell that never rings. One can’t help but to wonder the why behind the why and what it all means. I’ve asked, and the only answer I get is to write. Same thing I’ve been getting for years, and years…and you guessed it…YEARS. God forgive me but sometimes I just want a hug and an outing (with someone I like back) without sitting in this house writing my heart away. Don’t get me wrong, suitors ask but I don’t mess with those fools because I already know. Sometimes I think I am too wise and good for my own good. Knowing to much leaves a funky taste in your mouth and makes you wish that some days you could just be stupid as hell and oblivious to what’s happening in the world around you. As much as I’ve tried to clarify and find the answer and meaning to it all I’m just not getting it and am unsure of which way to go but on my own. Perhaps that’s the way it’s meant to be but…I don’t like it. In fact, I’m starting to get funked. But what can you do but smile big, pay close attention to your thoughts and direct them toward happiness as much as possible by giving yourself everything you need and love? That’s all anyone can do. But I still can’t sleep at night.

Family Affairs and the Magic City Recruit.

My baby sis came in from B’More this weekend. Spent most of Saturday at my Uncle’s house. There were kids everywhere and I wanted to slap a few. Especially my other Uncle’s daughter who got on my effing nerves. The kids were dancing to music, sensible, cute…but then this 11 year old with a booty bigger than mine gets up and bounces her ass like she could make money doing it. I asked her, “What do you think you are going to attract by doing that booty poppin you’re doing?” She looked at me funny and said, “I just like to dance.” I just shook my head and attempted to explain to her the importance of being a lady and not doing things like that in front of people. Regardless of if she likes to dance people don’t know that. They just see another little black girl bouncing that ass like she was born to do. A freak ready to get smashed. She didn’t care and started doing it again. I just got up and left the room. I watched her later for a while and realized how starved for attention she was. I was like that. I just wasn’t poppin the booty…I was a little more advanced in my activities lol. Her dad worked a lot and her mom just had a new baby. I saw the road she was going down and pulled her to the side. Kept it real with her and dropped a little advice to her like she were my own. She got the point. Her prance was more confident, she crossed her legs when she sat down to eat, and she wasn’t as loud and boisterous as before. I caught her secretly watching me and my mannerisms and mimicking them best she knew how. I could tell my approval meant a lot to her. It made me feel really good because that one talk could have very well changed her life.

Guess Who’s Afraid of the Dark?

The lights went out Sat night and the entire Sidney Marcus side of Lenox Rd. was PITCH black. I sought refuge at D’s house since he was the closest by. Kicked it for a hot second and bounced, praying I had lights when I got back. Otherwise I’d be sleeping in the car because I can’t sleep in a pitch-black house alone in silence. It was 2am and that’s when the monsters come out lol. HAHA! I’m 30 years old and afraid to be in a dark room alone. Shame. I was relieved to see that they in fact were back on and I could take a long shower to wash away the day. As soon as I got out of the shower and put on my robe the lights went out AGAIN! PANIC. TERROR. My heart raced as I fumbled in the dark for my celly, purse and keys, which I never put in the same place twice. I am deathly afraid of being in the dark by myself unless I’m in the bed and sleep and the light switch is a reach away. As soon as I stepped out of my front door my Indian neighbor across the hall was there with his flashlight and boxer shorts. He had bee bee’s on his chest which surprised me for obvious reasons lol. He shinned his light on me…in my robe with damp hair and a look of terror on my face! “Again,” he said waving his arms and the flashlight with it. I said, “I know this is crap,” and scurried down the stairs to the parking garage as I felt his eyeballs follow until I was gone. I think I saw him lick his lips while looking at my legs but whatever. I just had to get the hell out of there. When I opened the door to the garage it was pitch black and I nearly died again because finding my way to my car was out of the question. I ran back up the stairs and stood in front of the walkway wondering what to do. A few neighbors were standing outside smoking. One of them that I talk to here and there screams, “This is fucking bullshit isn’t it! Do you have any weed?” LOL I shook no and the other girl says, “We can’t even have nookie night because it’s so damn dark.” I was thinking, I don’t know about you but dark, light, dusk, whatever it goes down regardless! We stood outside in a little crew until about 3:15 or so shootin the shyt until the lights came back on. I hesitated going back up in fear the same thing would happen again. Eventually I just said forget it…if I get to sleep soon I’ll be too comatose to even know what’s happening. Word.

Satisfaction NOT Guaranteed.

One of my best friends is gone and I still can’t believe it. I checked up on their blog and saw that they really didn’t get where I was coming from and kinda felt like I was the villain and the fake one that had been lying all along. That hurt but I guess that’s the power of words. I said some fucked up shyt that can’t be taken back. It’s sad but what can you do? I know how they feel right at this moment and the fact that I can’t be there kinda bothers me on that “I never would have thought” sorta thing. It didn’t take long for me to find peace in it all, but it still doesn’t stop you from missing your friend. I just try to flood my attention with other things and let it all die away on its own. I tried everything I could to get him to see but I just couldn’t get through. Just trying not to cry about it. I’ve lost a lot this year, only to gain myself…but is that all there is? If so, fuck that. I don’t like it.

Being Content with it all. HELL NO!

I’m moving to a bigger place and haven’t even started packing yet. Mainly because I’m going through everything I own and have kept over the years and am trashing it, selling it, or giving it away. I want to use this opportunity as a symbol of a new start in my life. I tend to hold on to things even when I don’t need them and they serve no purpose anymore. My pageant dress from 12 years ago, my prom dress, pictures, even hand written notes and my old cheerleading uniforms. My first corporate paycheck…ticket stubs, the only single rose I was ever given from someone special (in high school) lol. And receipts going all the way back to 1999. We won’t even get on clothes. 80% of them sit in my closet or in piles that I plan to sort through tomorrow…which turns into two months, then three years and so on. Most of which have been pillaged through by a prissy teen obsessed with fashion. Having your clothes being referred to as vintage is enough in itself and a lot of things I need to let go. I had an aha moment when I thought about how things and objects hold energy from my past – some of which should have been tossed from my space long ago. Guess it’s never too late to clean up and I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Starting over may be what I need but again…that’s another thing that gets old. I want to build skyscrapers, not continue to clear land and sit on that shyt playing in the dirt like I’m starring in a PIKE Nursery commercial. Trying to figure out what’s next is hard when you tend to get wrapped up in the moment. Either way, content is not me these days.

Really Though? Tell me this is all there is.

I kinda feel alone. Sad a little but morose just irritated. There are so many things I want and feel like I need but I can’t seem to get my strategy right. It’s been more like live, learn, and still come up empty handed with just another lesson to put in your pocket. A friend of mine said, “Just be patient.” I went OFF lol. I said, “I’ve been patient and trying to do the right thing all of my life and I’m ready for MY turn to reap benefits. Fuck that!” My biggest fear is to grow old and never see my hearts desires. Dreams that I’ve held onto since I was a little girl. Even when you do all that you are supposed to do some things are just out of your control. You have to wait it out and wait your turn. It’s just a travesty when you see the next person that cheated to get their way only to get ten steps ahead of you and actually get away with it. I try my best to do the right thing but often times I feel like I come up short. I just wish there were more to it than this and often wonder, should I cheat and lie my way to the top too?

Maybe I’ll just cut my hair and make it rain on dem hoes.

-black girl.

the truth: get down or lay down!
July 29, 2008, 1:15 am
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When I watched the movie ‘The Secret’ on Christmas Day 2006, my life changed forever. For the first time all of my answers were assembled into a neat, tight little package that put my life at that present moment into perspective. I’d be the first to attest to the amount of success and increased value I’ve created simply by believing it in my mind first.

The concepts and theories placed before the generally unhappy and satisfied American (which makes up about 95% of the entire damn population) are intended to motivate, inspire, sound good and give you the basic tool or ‘secret’ that great leaders from our past have used to change their own worlds and themselves. But now, as I sit here smack in the middle of my 2008, I’m really beginning to see that this practice is merely an introduction to the successful application of positive thinking and outward change. What the Secret does not address is the importance of balancing who you want to be in any given situation with the reality of who you are and more importantly how you feel at that given moment. Now that I am able to look at the philosophy from a different perspective, I see that it has the potential to do more harm than good if not applied appropriately and with balance. The today, here and now that must ALWAYS be respected and addressed in all forms.

When I first saw the movie my mind was in a messed up state anyway. It was one of the first real wake up calls I’d seen as an adult aside from fostering a personal connection with God. This newfound enlightenment and passion to change fueled my desire to become the bigger, badder, better black girl I knew that I could be. I think touching on the importance of balance in this regard is relevant because one must be careful not to flood their minds with the world that they want thus not leaving room to address the world they currently live in. I can only imagine the hundreds and thousands of people whom have taken the Secret theory to such an extreme that their intentions to be and have better become self-crippling smoke screens blinding them from the truths that must be examined as part of the process. This can lead to unrealistic and unfair expectations of one’s self and others, which certainly does more harm than good. The question for you today is “At what point does positive thinking become wishful lies?”

I am in by no means knocking the Secret, I’m just saying that everyone thinks differently and if you really want to put it out there as public doctrine, put it out there with all of the disclaimers and risks that could be involved by discussing the importance of balance. The Secret, in my case, was the perfect way out and it worked to an extent and still does but…focusing my mind on everything positive and good did not always get me to the place I wanted to be as a full-circle individual. In fact, this very same principal has backfired more than once. The Secret teaches you to not even acknowledge negative thoughts or behaviors about yourself or other people – and this inhumane approach creates bigger monsters and demons to be slayed later. I like to call it ‘justified neglect’. I’ve told myself for years that it doesn’t matter what we want to do – good or bad, jacked up or pleasurable…WE ONLY NEED A REASON. To focus on the positive and who you want to be all day everyday and ignore the bad in hopes of good saving the day is absolutely insane. You run the risk of becoming a professional ‘DREAMER’ and runner. We all know one.

Newsflash: All of the secrets, mysteries and wonders revealed on this planet can’t take a way from the reality of your thoughts, feelings, and emotions at any given moment. By giving yourself permission to acknowledge and directly address your current dilemmas without feeling guilty, you are better equipped to think your way out of whatever it is you are wanting to change.

I told him I was good, I was okay, I didn’t have an issue with this or that because I knew what I wanted and needed to be (to him) in order to allow him to remain a part of my life. WTF was I doing? I thought the pain and resentment I felt was wrong and had to go away because he was truthful on his part. Some days it worked, some it didn’t – and on the days it didn’t I’d act like it to make it through only to cry and suffer in silence when left to deal with me. I danced with the idea of thinking that as long as I focused on being the person that I wanted to be to this individual, the rest would catch up and all would be well….one day soon. I die laughing as I explain it because it sounds so sick and crazy! But human, and I can accept that. 🙂 lol

To speak the truth to thousands of people every day and not be able to accept it in your own life at the end of every night is a secret life that nobody wants or should want to live. Doesn’t matter if your intentions are good or you don’t want to be the ‘burden’ by letting the truth be. I was ruining my essence in silent thunder as the clouds rolled and accumulated into the most furious hurricane capable of wiping out an entire city. It was only a matter of time before the levees would break.

Thoughts become things right? True, but in order to appropriately apply this theory you must touch on and acknowledge the present and what’s already there. You can’t just move on saying that you’re something by simply believing that you will be it without addressing the problem. As much as you want to believe it, there are some things that just don’t ‘go away’ when you ignore them. There are some things PUT THERE for you to work through as part of your karmic lessons. Deal with them and move on or keep dealing with the same shyt forever and ever, over and over.

Saying that you are something or feel a certain way that is completely opposite from the truth at any given moment (despite good intentions) is a lie and it makes you a LIAR. People don’t see where your heart is and why you choose the path you take in the process by not giving fan fair to negative feelings. They don’t see why you try to hide your personal discomforts for the sake of something better. They don’t care about that shyt. The only thing they see is that what you say is contradictory to how you feel and that you are a liar. Then, everything that you’ve said or done, or perhaps even written becomes discredited and up for debate. All because you wanted to live well and think your greatest wants and wishes into manifestation. I’ve learned the hard way that you cannot use such a practice to manipulate how you want situations in your life to be. Regardless of whatever secret lying beneath, the truth holds King and you better get down or lay down.

A very valuable lesson I’m learning and making a conscious effort to do is understand that I must acknowledge the truth openly and honestly first. With myself and with whomever else that may be attached to that truth. Even if it looks like a nasty, drooling little devil with horns that you’d rather not even face yourself you have to make that shit known first before going on to apply the rest of what you consider a part of the great blue print for success. The harsh realistic side behind the Secret is that just as “Thoughts becomes things”, “Truth is the overriding doctrine that makes all things reality”.

I’m just saying…find a happy balance.

-black girl.