Diagnosing Insecurity

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Contrary to popular beliefs, fueled by testosterone, women are not born insecure.  There is no trait, passed by the mother to the daughter, through DNA, that produces an insecure little girl and years later an insecure woman.   This means there is no evidence of  genome mapping that traces back to a particular gene on any chromosomes that’s indicative of an insecure abnormality, like Breast Cancer or Down Syndrome, that can be explained, through medical science, on how one’s life will possibly unfold.   Also contrary to popular beliefs, fueled by popular music and over-rehearsed reality television, some women do not carry baggage from one relationship to another.  Most women do, however, notice signs much sooner, realize what they will and will not deal with much faster, and play their hand much wiser, having dealt with all kinds of men in their past-it’s the nature of growing up and into one’s self.  How can I honestly know if I like chocolate if I have never tried chocolate?  That’s the nature of knowing what’s best-having sampled many options.  Now, although I will not say that insecurity can be genetically explained through medical science, I will however, say that insecurity can best be compared to a symptom of a much bigger disease.  Insecurity can only be caught when having dealt with someone who is not “secure” in being honest, “secure” in communicating, “secure” in their present relationship or even “secure with themselves.  Lies, or even the perception of a lie, are spread and insecurity is caught. 

I remember back in a past relationship where things were going great between me and my then “love interest”.  We were the BEST of friends-inseparable really.  We were two of the most delicious peas in a perfect pod-I was smitten.  Our relationship progressed out of a great friendship.  Nothing was rushed.  We had great communication…or so I thought.  In the beginning of every budding relationship there is an excitement with marathon conversations where two people can’t help but indulge in the glow of one another’s life, feelings, thoughts, and desires…it’s the newness, the unknown and the discovery that keeps one drinking from the cup of information and the other keeping the glass full.  I was DRUNK and happy and at every chance that I had to belly up to the bar I wanted to be hit again…that is until I was cut off.  I thought I could ask this person any and everything without fear or consequence.  I mean this person was open with sharing himself to me until the most simple questions were received with speculative answers and speculative answers were now turning into innuendos of me dreaming up something in my head and for the longest time I thought maybe it is me.  To make a what-can-turn-into-a-long-story really short there was a communication breakdown.  I asked questions, initially, not coming from a place of blame, but really coming from a place of hurt.  He was my best friend and now I am being shunned…”what’s happening”, “let’s talk about it”, and “what can I do to help”? with the answer always being nothing, no, and everything is fine and of course you know everything is not fine.  What once was a trusting and loving relationship with open communication was turning into an environment of wall building and secret keeping and the worst place for any woman to be when a man builds walls is trapped on the outside of that wall and on the inside of her own head.  I was in disbelief and denial about what was truly happening in my life and unfortunately there was only one way I could get resolution to my escalating problem…I had to go get it myself.

What many people fell to realize when dealing with someone who may seem a little insecure about what is happening in their present relationship, is that you really need to let go of your own ego and examine what you may be doing to irritate the situation.  There are a number of people who do not enter into a brand new relationship insecure, but within the course of that relationship begin to show signs of insecurity.  If you really care for your mate, you would care about what they are feeling and possibly slow down on the actions which may be causing the insecurity to begin with or at least having open and honest dialog about it.  If not, if you are so unwilling to check your own actions, you should not be mad when the insecure party is left with no choice but to find their own answers which may be in some cases snooping. 

Its 2011 and the world is changing daily.  Every day in the news you hear about spouses of unfaithful partners being killed, children kidnapped, and other unspeakable crimes taking place on the heel of infidelity.  Shows like Snapped, Wicked Attraction, and Unsolved Mysteries are E-Classrooms for the twisted and deranged.  Now I understand how my mentioning these shows can seem a little farfetched of a reason for one to be proactive in discovering the truth within their own relationship, but unfortunately shows like the ones mentioned would not be in existence if situations that are synonymous with these shows were not occurring everywhere.  These particular shows highlight the gruesomeness of what people are capable of when they feel like they have been misled or that they cannot live without the person who is fueling their happiness, while shows like Maury and Springer glorify what some would consider the lighter side of infidelity such as catty fighting, bitter living, and the spread of communicable diseases-all of which may not be so easy to rid yourself of and none of which I ever wanted in my happy existence.  So I became proactive about my happiness and I snooped finding exactly what I expected to find and although what I found brought an end to what I thought and hoped was a great existence with a long future it paved a way for my peace of mind and cured me of my insecurity.

About THE PITIFUL AFTERMATH (via SEX & THE PITY)

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Page 3 of 3 of the “About” pages.

About THE PITIFUL AFTERMATH I can't think I can’t think or eat I can’t think or eat or sleep And not amount of sheep That enters my head Will get me to bed When there’s still that space that you left cold I hold back the tears While I hold on to the fact And unfurl the fears That I’m alone in this world With no one left to lean on You were my rock My bone And this song that keeps playing In my mind its saying That I should hold on and be strong But I’ve been strong for too … Read More

via SEX & THE PITY

About LOVE (via SEX & THE PITY)

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2 of 3 of my “About” pages!! Stop by and read the rest of the blog!

About LOVE Love is the door you walk through not knowing what lies on the other side. You hide Your foolish pride And push back the fear inside To open that door And explore The possibilities That something, Something Is this love? Has in store for you Sometimes the clouds are blue And the sun is shining But sometimes Love Takes some defining And relying on your other half to make you laugh or make you whole and sometimes Love Yes love! Makes you gasp And l … Read More

via SEX & THE PITY

Catching “Honey” with Vinegar

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(Click to Listen-Catching Honey with Vinegar)

Everyone has heard the old adage that you can “catch more flies with honey than with vinegar” which when simply put means you can always get further when being nicer, but does that saying really apply to life? What about to relationships? I ask these questions because I am also familiar with the adage of “Good Guys finishing Last”. Is everything that I have been taught on how to govern myself as well as other people in direct competition and contradiction with one another? Why hell yes it is!

First Love

Since I was a little girl on the playground I have seen boys pull hair, punch, push, kick and degrade the girls of their adolescent desire. These sorts of behaviors would lead to bruised arms as well as bruised egos; hurt feelings and hurt heads; dirt stained clothes and tainted ideals of love because no sooner than the tear traces create a damp path down some victimized little girl’s now dingy face, then the cycle of physical and psychological abuse begins again. Little Sally, with her tear-and-snot stained dress sleeve and scraped knee, will limp as hard as she can back to Johnny to vie for his love with even more tears and her damselesque manipulation so that she can feel secure in knowing that she has gotten the prize of a bad boy. But why? Is it because if you’re sleeping with enemy you are secure in knowing at least who the enemy is? Hmm? Perhaps, but believe it or not, the one thing that men and women have in common is the thrill of the chase-albeit for women the chase is really the chase for attention from a man who is hard-pressed to give it… but it’s a chase nonetheless.

Most women get their adrenaline pumping when we feel like a man will take us to the edge and threaten to push us over. It’s exciting when a man is masculine, bruting, not easily bendable or intimidated. We cannot get enough of the rush and excitement that some men deliver even if he’s delivering a dozen stems of bullshit. All and all it’s the attention we crave and some of us will sell our better judgment to get it. From adolescence to adulthood the game only changes slightly for most women-we meet a guy, we fall for a guy, the guy rejects us, and then our soul is up on the auction block until we get him back or we get over him; only failing to realize one thing- some love is lost in the breakup and makeup cycle where the fairy tale that once was will never play out to “happily ever after” because one party will never change enough in the time span that the other’s patience will run thin, because unfortunately these things cannot be sped up and someone will always attempt to rush the clock (women).

Kanye

But where is the boy who was picking flowers and sharing cookies? Most likely this boy is kicking rocks on the playground and answering all the questions in the classroom. This is the guy that most girls rejected, made fun of, or made into their strictly “platonic” male friend throughout grade school. He was the guy whose parents raised him up the right way: to be chivalrous, respectful, kind, compassionate, considerate, complementary, and hard-working. This is the guy who is on every woman’s “list”, and who no woman really wants? Is it because he doesn’t have Jay Z‘s “swag” or is a complete asshole like Kanye? Or is it because he doesn’t grab you by your hair or refer to you as “Bitch” every once in a while-even in bed? Is it because his life isn’t exciting enough and he doesn’t aspire to be infamously connected to the music industry or chase the limelight of individuals who bring drama to his life? Or is it because he doesn’t drive an automobile that screams “Success” to most diggers and possible “Drug Dealer” to most police? As women we don’t always know what we want, because if we did there would be fewer broken promises and even fewer broken hearts. There would be more men really wanting to aspire to be the nice guy and fewer nice guys aspiring to be the bad ass or chameleons of who he thinks women really want. Most of us are Hollywood glamorized by the idea of WHAT a man should be…”what” he drives, “what” he wears and “what” he brings to table as opposed to WHO a man should be and those adjectives are endless. The moment we begin chasing the “what” is the moment we begin falling down all over again and scraping our knees trying to run and keep up with the persona. I’ve tasted vinegar and it was bitter.

The Truth of the Matter

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Through it all Loving one another

(Click to Listen-The Truth of the Matter)

The truth of the matter is that it was never supposed to be you
In my face
In this place
You, standing here
Receiving me
Drinking from my cup
So much such and such
Brought us to this moment
Where I am able to have you do more than drink up
But so what
Because its you
And you’re here
And the truth of the matter is
You touched a piece of my soul and stole the other half of my heart
And even though we’re worlds apart
The idea of you doesn’t seem foreign to me
But the thought of you not being here is skeevish and peevish to my prosperity
The siblings of your future generation wouldn’t look like me
Wouldn’t smile like me
Or have the same Texas twine when I whine your name…so uniquely… to give it to me
The siblings of your future generation wouldn’t know me
Wouldn’t see me
Or be about me
Their eyes in mine couldn’t see we
So I rebel
and occasionally I do me
Just to see how much latitude you give me
And even when my inner diva breaks free
You never hang me with the same rope you gave me…
you give me…me
and the truth of the matter is
when I hurt you
I hurt me
I cry tears so profusely when thinking of the walls I have built instead of relationships
Where casual encounters may have led to spending sprees and shopping trips
down to Cancun but never trips down the aisle
But those things take a while
So I settled for the drug of a good time over a long time and fed my addition like a child…
But for you
For you
I’ll crawl an inch in sobriety just so one day together we can run a mile
And knowing all the while it was never supposed to be you
But the truth of the matter is it is you
You are the voice that I hear when I hear love speak
a language only shared between you and me
the melodic sounds of a monotonous tick in your Mississippi, North Carolina, Afro centric Swahili
you are the Honey in mine and E. Badu’s tea
a short sip after a long trip keeps my free spirit under lock and key
and even on the days I may not know how to love you
you show me how to love me…
and even on the days I resist the idea of you completing me
I know without half of you
There is no whole me…
And for that reason
The truth of the matter is
Its you…the way its suppose to be

The Truth of the Matter

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Through it all Loving one another

(Click to Listen-The Truth of the Matter)

The truth of the matter is that it was never supposed to be you
In my face
In this place
You, standing here
Receiving me
Drinking from my cup
So much such and such
Brought us to this moment
Where I am able to have you do more than drink up
But so what
Because its you
And you’re here
And the truth of the matter is
You touched a piece of my soul and stole the other half of my heart
And even though we’re worlds apart
The idea of you doesn’t seem foreign to me
But the thought of you not being here is skeevish and peevish to my prosperity
The siblings of your future generation wouldn’t look like me
Wouldn’t smile like me
Or have the same Texas twine when I whine your name…so uniquely… to give it to me
The siblings of your future generation wouldn’t know me
Wouldn’t see me
Or be about me
Their eyes in mine couldn’t see we
So I rebel
and occasionally I do me
Just to see how much latitude you give me
And even when my inner diva breaks free
You never hang me with the same rope you gave me…
you give me…me
and the truth of the matter is
when I hurt you
I hurt me
I cry tears so profusely when thinking of the walls I have built instead of relationships
Where casual encounters may have led to spending sprees and shopping trips
down to Cancun but never trips down the aisle
But those things take a while
So I settled for the drug of a good time over a long time and fed my addition like a child…
But for you
For you
I’ll crawl an inch in sobriety just so one day together we can run a mile
And knowing all the while it was never supposed to be you
But the truth of the matter is it is you
You are the voice that I hear when I hear love speak
a language only shared between you and me
the melodic sounds of a monotonous tick in your Mississippi, North Carolina, Afro centric Swahili
you are the Honey in mine and E. Badu’s tea
a short sip after a long trip keeps my free spirit under lock and key
and even on the days I may not know how to love you
you show me how to love me…
and even on the days I resist the idea of you completing me
I know without half of you
There is no whole me…
And for that reason
The truth of the matter is
Its you…the way its suppose to be

When will you Grow the &@#$ Up…Pt1

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When will you Grow the &@#$ Up…about the way you Act and the things you Say

I’m an observer-a tad milder than a CIA operative and a bit more extreme than your neighborhood regular who sits on the same park bench, every Sunday, feeding over-trained, under-motivated, winged-peddlers day old bread while watching others walk by, waiting for his life’s inspiration.  I live in the cross hairs of a constant “Why and “For what” and I’m finding the living arrangements to be quite disheartening at times.

I watch people.  I sit, look, and wonder in stunned amazement at times about the actions of individuals and wonder “WHY” and for those questions that I am unable to answer by site alone, I turn into a natural-born interrogator to fill in the blanks.  I am a child of intrigue and wonderment, so much so that when I WAS a child on my annual summer vacation to the lakes of Ft. Worth, Texas to visit my grandfather, I questioned him to no end about everything I saw until he finally questioned me about my motives or nosiness- I retorted with a quick “well that’s how you learn homeboy.”  A swift retort brought about a swifter belt to my back-side.  Now although my grand-father found it necessary to discipline me for my choice of words when answering his question (understandably so), the spirit of the answer was true and the discipline or threat of discipline did not distract me from the task at hand, which was to question everything around me and gather as much information as I could in one summer, because I knew his swinging arm would tire well before my mind or my mouth ever would.  As an adult, I teeter along that same line of intrigue and down-right nosiness; I want to know everything.  I have to know everything, because the more informed I am, the better decisions I will make based upon that information-on one hand, but on the other hand when I am OVERLY-informed the more turned off I am about people-their motives and motivations for committing such actions or saying certain things…and this is where I find myself today.

Infamous Facebook Bathroom Mirror Photo

The internet has made it possible for people like me to people watch without ever leaving the privacy of my home or the comfort of my bathrobe and I must say I’m mildly disgusted with my generation and our need to cast the brightest of lights on our dimmest hours in the name of fortune, fame and revenge.  At what age do you grow the fuck up?  With the invention of the internet and the explosion of social media, people are getting a glimpse into WHO you are based upon WHAT you tweet.  Twitter and Facebook is becoming the ultimate and most accurate first impression tool for people who want to take a glimpse into your psyche and once you’ve set precedence or committed to a trend on your profile—that’s who you are in the eyes of your “followers” and that’s how the world views you.  Of course, most people reading this probably could care less how they are viewed in the world and for that reason this blog is for you, because your reputation is just as important as your credit score in society-few people are willing to hedge on worthlessness.   I read a tweet today, from a stranger, which I found quite interesting, which read, “Women will love me regarless of how I act…Cause #idgaf”….out of the mouths of fools speak the truth.  I am all for honesty and every woman who meets this man should appreciate the honesty in which he delivers-even if it is poorly phrased, but when this same man wakes up one day and realizes the type of people-women in particular, who encompasses his most intimate of circles, he will have no one to blame but himself, because I am sure his actions reflect his words (as well as his syntax) and if HE doesn’t #gaf why should ANYONE #gaf about him-they shouldn’t and that’s the message he’s delivering.

I am in awe of the things people put out in the world without the least bit of thought, consequence or remorse.  Someone of Facebook, several weeks ago, decided that they wanted to verbally insult me for… whatever reason, but instead of getting @me, she whispered quietly on her page in a subliminal context in which only few people understood and I had no action of recourse.  It’s amazing that social sites have brought about such a disconnect from human interaction that we no longer know how to directly speak to people when there may or may not be an issue amongst adults.  I consider myself a fairly reasonable person, who would much rather have the consideration of a conversation to permanently squash an issue, than to participate in cyber-beef and air a darker side of myself on something as permanent as the internet. First it was the Pony Express, then the telegraph, then email, then text messages, and now social media which all sped up the delivery of communication for its respectable time period, but also diluted the message it was intended to deliver and caused a great divide in physical interaction which made the art of actual conversation a foreign cousin.  My generation as well as the next is losing as a result of it…we are moving in the wrong direction.

We have moved into an era by which people are praised more for their lack of decorum and discretion and less for their talent and abilities.  We have become a society of coat-riders, Bentley chaises and 15 minute famers and moved away from generational builders, empire starters and responsible adults.   We have become a people who would rather broadcast our children in the squalors of negativity on YouTube than broadcast his or her scholastic achievement.  We have become a community that would rather relinquish our rights to parenthood than help raise our children; talk our way into VIP than into our city counsel’s office to help bring about change in our neighborhood and help stimulate the economy. We have become a nation of talkers and moved away from a nation of thinkers and doers all in the name of living for now and our 15 minutes of adolescent cyber fame.  We have allowed our insecurities to push us to the brink of ir-rationalization in the name of standing out in a crowd of other irrational people.  At what point within these 15 minutes will you realize how old you really are and Grow the Fuck up?

When will you Grow the &@#$ Up Pt1

Tags

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When will you Grow the &@#$ Up…about the way you Act and the things you Say

I’m an observer-a tad milder than a CIA operative and a bit more extreme than your neighborhood regular who sits on the same park bench, every Sunday, feeding over-trained, under-motivated, winged-peddlers day old bread while watching others walk by, waiting for his life’s inspiration.  I live in the cross hairs of a constant “Why and “For what” and I’m finding the living arrangements to be quite disheartening at times.

I watch people.  I sit, look, and wonder in stunned amazement at times about the actions of individuals and wonder “WHY” and for those questions that I am unable to answer by site alone, I turn into a natural-born interrogator to fill in the blanks.  I am a child of intrigue and wonderment, so much so that when I WAS a child on my annual summer vacation to the lakes of Ft. Worth, Texas to visit my grandfather, I questioned him to no end about everything I saw until he finally questioned me about my motives or nosiness- I retorted with a quick “well that’s how you learn homeboy.”  A swift retort brought about a swifter belt to my back-side.  Now although my grand-father found it necessary to discipline me for my choice of words when answering his question (understandably so), the spirit of the answer was true and the discipline or threat of discipline did not distract me from the task at hand, which was to question everything around me and gather as much information as I could in one summer, because I knew his swinging arm would tire well before my mind or my mouth ever would.  As an adult, I teeter along that same line of intrigue and down-right nosiness; I want to know everything.  I have to know everything, because the more informed I am, the better decisions I will make based upon that information-on one hand, but on the other hand when I am OVERLY-informed the more turned off I am about people-their motives and motivations for committing such actions or saying certain things…and this is where I find myself today.

Infamous Facebook Bathroom Mirror Photo

The internet has made it possible for people like me to people watch without ever leaving the privacy of my home or the comfort of my bathrobe and I must say I’m mildly disgusted with my generation and our need to cast the brightest of lights on our dimmest hours in the name of fortune, fame and revenge.  At what age do you grow the fuck up?  With the invention of the internet and the explosion of social media, people are getting a glimpse into WHO you are based upon WHAT you tweet.  Twitter and Facebook is becoming the ultimate and most accurate first impression tool for people who want to take a glimpse into your psyche and once you’ve set precedence or committed to a trend on your profile—that’s who you are in the eyes of your “followers” and that’s how the world views you.  Of course, most people reading this probably could care less how they are viewed in the world and for that reason this blog is for you, because your reputation is just as important as your credit score in society-few people are willing to hedge on worthlessness.   I read a tweet today, from a stranger, which I found quite interesting, which read, “”Women will love me regarless of how I act…Cause #idgaf” out of the mouths of fools speak the truth.  I am all for honesty and every woman who meets this man should appreciate the honesty in which he delivers-even if it is poorly phrased, but when this same man wakes up one day and realizes the type of people-women in particular, who encompasses his most intimate of circles, he will have no one to blame but himself, because I am sure his actions reflect his words (as well as his syntax) and if HE doesn’t #gaf why should ANYONE #gaf about him-they shouldn’t and that’s the message he’s delivering. 

I am in awe of the things people put out in the world without the least bit of thought, consequence or remorse.  Someone of Facebook, several weeks ago, decided that they wanted to verbally insult me for… whatever reason, but instead of getting @me, she whispered quietly on her page in a subliminal context in which only few people understood and I had no action of recourse.  It’s amazing that social sites have brought about such a disconnect from human interaction that we no longer know how to directly speak to people when there may or may not be an issue amongst adults.  I consider myself a fairly reasonable person, who would much rather have the consideration of a conversation to permanently squash an issue, than to participate in cyber-beef and air a darker side of myself on something as permanent as the internet. First it was the Pony Express, then the telegraph, then email, then text messages, and now social media which all sped up the delivery of communication for its respectable time period, but also diluted the message it was intended to deliver and caused a great divide in physical interaction which made the art of actual conversation a foreign cousin.  My generation as well as the next is losing as a result of it…we are moving in the wrong direction.

We have moved into an era by which people are praised more for their lack of decorum and discretion and less for their talent and abilities.  We have become a society of coat-riders, Bentley chaises and 15 minute famers and moved away from generational builders, empire starters and responsible adults.   We have become a people who would rather broadcast our children in the squalors of negativity on YouTube than broadcast his or her scholastic achievement.  We have become a community that would rather relinquish our rights to parenthood than help raise our children; talk our way into VIP than into our city counsel’s office to help bring about change in our neighborhood and help stimulate the economy. We have become a nation of talkers and moved away from a nation of thinkers and doers all in the name of living for now and our 15 minutes of adolescent cyber fame.  We have allowed our insecurities to push us to the brink of ir-rationalization in the name of standing out in a crowd of other irrational people.  At what point within these 15 minutes will you realize how old you really are and Grow the Fuck up?

This was Something…I Just don’t know what

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This is an audible poem…click the link above for the full experience-otherwise feel free to read! Enjoy!!

In by 1am out by 5am-Fling

I smiled
Every time he said my name
Every time he came
From a long day
Paying the way
We wanted to play

I smiled
Every time he looked my way
As if to say
Although I may not say
This is where I want to be
You
Me
Loving
Our happy
Our peace

This was no fling

This was not a Coca-Cola real thing
But a real thing
none the less
We were blessed to know
Our worst
To live through
And be blanketed
And wrapped up in our best
Each other
one another
Not one or the other
Less
He be my Montezuma Cypress
I his CO2
So together we breathe the best
And that’s how he came
No games
No lines
No mess
And I loved him the best
for it

This was no fling
This was
No
fling

His type that wasn’t mine
Progressed on me impressively
Eyes that searched mine
Seemingly
Innocently
Categorizing
Me
But no box good enough to fit
So I the box locked in his heart so no one could touch
Or get
No locksmith yet
Long walks on streets where peaches grow
Where others pass
But no one knows
His beat
Was my beat
A one heart melodic stroll
And if the beat dropped
The song would stop
So I became the hook to his soul

This was no fling

This was no
I dream of Genie
No Houdini
Magic Trick
No Fifty Magic Stick
Just for the sake of
Hitting it
or quitting it
This was a Gumbo Roux
African inspired
Long simmered
and Jazz infused
File’ seasoned
full of good ju-ju
Love so deep in the pot
And so hot
You needed more than a spoon
And a couple of hours to get into

Honey this was no fling
Ms Thing this was no fling

This was no late night session
No just late night
and no early morning love resurrection
This was steady progression
Estate planning
No on call sex demanding
This was Kem’s love kept calling my name standings
And I answered like Angela Basset chanting
Nam-Myoho
But I will if you want me to be
As I was made to take this position seriously
So I gave all of me
And he in return
Well
He gave me…
I won’t kiss and tell

This was no fling

This was grown-folks shit
This was Miles Davis in ‘56
Charles Mingus’ Epitaph
deeper than Blue Bland’s whaling
and stronger than BB’s laugh
this was Mo’ Wetter and Mo’ Better than any Blues by Marsalis
or Lee
This was almost on Par
With Coltrane’s Love Supreme

This was something else
Something else indeed
You wouldn’t understand

Again this is no fling

F@%& YOU AND YOUR CROSSED-EYED MOTHER

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(Click to Listen-Fuck you and your Mother)

We're not going to make it

I hate having to argue with certain people.  I hate having to be put in a situation to where I have to get my point across in such a way to these certain people that it trembles my voice and hurts my feelings.  I have learned through some of the most difficult arguments that it really did hurt my mother more when she was put in a position where she HAD to discipline my brother and me in order for a point to be best made clear-I am finding myself more and more in that position.  Recently I got caught up in the most ridiculous argument between a person who at one point I would have considered one of my best friends, and now I’m having a little trouble using the term friend loosely and making it stick. I was infuriated with the lack of respect shown and the slighted accusation being tossed around yet shielded by the other party’s rhetoric about how I am the one at fault and to blame for my own anger.  Really?  Was I the one making a move when simple communication would have sufficed?  I prefer some things to be simple and avoidable.  Complexions of complications make a poor attempt of masking one’s true intentions, because if the intentions were really true it would be simple and not complicated.  You follow?  So that’s where I’m going with this…a simple question made complicated by an attempt at masking the truth with flawed intentions.  I was pissed.  I wasn’t having it with this person and they had to know it, however in retrospect when vision and mental focus is definitely 20/20 the argument on both ends had absolutely nothing to do with what we both claimed the argument to be…and in that respect made the argument unfair and worthless.  I’m still pissed.  I’m pissed because nothing is ever accomplished in an argument argued amongst two people who really don’t know what the argument truly is about.  We weren’t following the rules of arguing when the argument is between two people who consider themselves friends.  We argued like strangers who mistakenly bumped into one another at the club…”mother#@%$&( did you scuff my kicks?”, “Man #@%$ your kicks”.  We were those people minus the explicits.  We should have just come to blows and been done…the rules were already broken from the first question and the first lie.  Learn to follow the rules.

 

#1 Rule:  Keep the Argument above Board

Although this may not have applied to my recent argument, too many times I have heard friends come to me with a story that ended with them telling another friend (their partner really) to “FUCK YOU AND YOUR CROSSED-EYED MOTHER”…*Zoolander face.  There isn’t any coming back from the dozens.  You cannot in good faith and clear conscience speak about someone’s mother and feel like everything after that will be okay. To speak of someone’s mother or any other key family member in an un-flattering light is in direct violation of Rule #1 and will most certainly lead to breaking Rule #2.  It is never a good idea to speak ill of someone’s mother-even if she is a cross-eyed bitch and at that point it would be best to fold the argument and walk away because you clearly have gone beyond your boiling point.  Your spout is whistling and it’s time to take yourself off the fire.

 

#2 Rule:  Keep your hands to yourself

I hate to see friends fight, but I understand that sometimes egos and opinions get the better of us and an occasional argument may ensue-these things happen, however when it happens fighting is never the best policy.  I remember when I was an undergrad visiting Texas from Mississippi on summer bridge and my mother’s youngest sister and I had an argument in my mother’s family room.  It was bad.  What started off as a discussion about where we both fall short in speaking and dealing with other people quickly turned into name calling, and yelling, and cursing, and degradation, fault naming and parenting flaws (I don’t have any children) and then came the finger-pointing and the jumping up from couches and chairs and the standing so closely to one another that we felt each other’s breath and spit and wrath-our conversation had spiraled so far out of control that before I knew it my aunt had taken off her shoes and moving furniture in my mother’s home.  We were heading for an all out brawl and the neighborhood was invited.  My brother subsequently came in and restored order prior to my aunt and I throwing the first punch, but even though the first punch was never thrown the damage had already been done.  Since that time, my aunt and I have been rather estranged and our relationship suffered some irreparable damage-she was my favorite aunt when I was growing up and today we rarely speak.  Some bells can never be un-rung even when they’re only tapped.

 

#3 Rule:  Be clear with what the argument is about   

Please Listen

This is clearly my issue-an issue which affects the majority of the population, but mostly women.  I have no issue with being honest with self.  I have no issue with being honest with anyone I choose to engage in conversation or “bait into an argument.”  I do however have an issue with showing my hand if someone is unwilling to show me theirs.  Rule #3 explicitly states to be clear with what the argument is about and to take it a step further, if you are clear you can begin to discuss the ACTUAL issue and perhaps RESOLVE it.  The reason why most partners frequently fight is because there is a lingering issue that has not been resolved to the satisfaction of one or more of the partners in the relationship.  The recent argument I was involved in had absolutely NOTHING to do with the core question I asked—it was much deeper than that-something I believe all parties involved recognized, but was unwilling to dive deep enough for a resolution.  I am aware of these things when others feel like I’m psycho-analyzing or holding on too tightly to an issue, but when “friends” fight someone should step back and examine the significance of the fight and if holds no significance or the words are more heated than the weight of the argument itself, than you’re fighting the wrong fight and the real argument will continue to be recycled until its addressed.  Recycled arguments or unaddressed issues are like ticking time bombs in any relationship-once you allow an unaddressed issue to tick tick tick for too long it will eventually explode leaving behind the pieces of a once healthy relationship.