Unwrapped

The Men's Section

2012-01-31T13:41:00.003-05:00

My Aunt is funny. The other day we talked about the time my mother wanted me to spend a summer in Illinois so I could go to charm school. My defiance to be a girl or “that girl,” and how upset the notion made me (I think I really produced tears) kept me from Illinois that summer and any other summer. In retrospect, I should have taken her up on the offer. It would have given me some much needed breathing room from everything that was going on during that time.

It was liberating telling my Aunt that I was gay. I made some kind of weird analogy that included Richard Simmons, a zebra and Snow White, which at the time confused the shit out of her. But because she is my mother’s sister and we, at the time, were just getting close, I naturally expected the worst. She didn’t have a problem with it at all, in a way I’m sure there was some relief. She confided, that she thought that my withdrawal and discomfort with trying on women’s clothes was because I was, “tall, awkward and had that skin disease.” I laughed so hard, I think I dropped the phone. Granted, I was tall, awkward and I did have eczema, but I thought makeup made me look foolish and fitted clothes? Ugh. After our conversation about Richard Simmons and Snow White, she never took me back the women’s section of any store.

When I look back on my pre-coming out wardrobe, I laugh. Sagging mom jeans in a blouse with cloth buttons was NOT the business. The mere fact that I just typed “blouse” kind of made me blush. But I had no sense of fashion back then, because although I wanted to look like my male friends, my mother would not dare let me shop the men’s section at any store, so I had to work with what I had access to. It was a great joy when finally, I wasn’t self conscious about shopping the men’s section, and I wasn’t using the excuse that I only buy men’s shoes because women’s shoes don’t carry my size.

Of course, at 33, I don’t make any of those excuses. I like how I dress and I have complete control over what I wear. And at 5’11, with most of my school girl looks behind me, I still have to answer the inquiry of my little cousin every damn Christmas, “Are you a girl or a boy?” My answer: “It depends on the day.”

Before I Forget...

2012-01-24T16:53:00.000-05:00

I think Joe Paterno used horrible judgment when he turned a deaf ear to children being sexually abused, but people should NOT use his death as a platform to further their activism. Regardless of his misjudgments, he was still a man and he passed away. If you don’t respect him, at least respect his family and the people who loved him despite his decisions. I’m pre-hiring a group of masked men to beat the shit out of anyone who tries to picket, protest or bad mouth me at my memorial service—whenever that will be.

Jay-Z and Be’yonce had a child. That’s actually a great thing. New life came into the world and regardless of how you feel about Jay-Z or Be’yonce, this IS a big deal for them. I thought disclosing intimate details of his journey to become a father in, “Glory” was actually pretty brave. Although the track itself is not the greatest, his happiness vibrated the track fearlessly. What the fuck is wrong with people?

Muting the audience in a debate is probably the best decision that could have ever been made. I applaud Brian Williams. I don’t think this rule should stop at the Republican debates, either. Debates can turn into popularity contests real quick, and although I believe that elections are also a big popularity contests, politicians should be able to stand on their assertions and politics without getting a blow job from the audience to make them feel right or feel like what they have said has value. If you know what you’re talking about, you don’t need a pack of yes-men cheering you on.

I don’t believe in SOPA, not because I believe that artists and entertainers deserve their art to be stolen and rummaged through, but because SOPA is about big business losing money, business that couldn’t care less about the artists, actors or entertainers for real. I support independent artists and other artists by attending concerts, pushing their music and watching their movies. Corporate greed is out of control. Refer to Occupy Wall street.

Bitches Ain’t Shit: The Manifesto

2012-01-22T13:01:00.000-05:00

When I was four, I remember falling in love for the very first time. Well, maybe it wasn’t love, and maybe I was too young to really recognize it as anything other than a strong fascination for a female playmate.

Since that monumental moment as a kid, I have fallen in love several times.

I thought my very first girlfriend dumping me on Christmas would be a pivotal moment, shaping a truer understanding of what love was. My reaction to our breakup was a far cry from enlightenment about love and relationships. I became a champion crooner of Snoop Dogg’s “Bitches Ain’t Shit.” It was on repeat, either on a CD or in my head, either way, for three years following that embarrassing moment (I should have been clued into…something, since she was trying to link me up with a waitress at a restaurant the night before), I treated all women like the scandalous, lying bitches they were.

I acted out aggressively, carelessly and with no REAL respect for any woman I came in contact with. I was an asshole and I didn’t care.

Every woman I have dated since G has shown me something about myself. Loving and dating has been more about a revelation of self and a container of evolution than it has been about mastering relationships or the art of love. In fact, I don’t think I will ever master the art of love. I don’t think there are any true experts on love and relationships. That doesn’t mean that there will not be 300 more people writing books this year showing us all how to love our man or woman, what signs to look out for in a cheater and how to tell your man is really gay. We buy those books hoping to one day find our perfect mate, or shape our existing relationships into something far more phenomenal and passionate than we believe them to be. I’m not saying books don’t help. I read a lot of books, and I take a lot of things from them that have truly helped me look closer at things in life’s bigger picture. Admittedly, I don’t own any, “How to Make Your Relationship Hotter in 30 Days!” kind of books.

For the past five years I have been in two relationships with two phenomenal and beautiful women. They are strikingly different, physically, how they sift through their emotions, how they love(d) me, and how they juggle life ~~experiments~~ experiences. There was something about them both that I saw could benefit me for a lifetime and I loved them both imagining that forever. Because of where I was in my life, I was unable to sustain anything beautiful or healthy with either one. I broke up with one love and allowed the other love to break me. I was disappointed in myself when I look back on both relationships. There have been times when I effortlessly assigned blame and made both loves the boogeyman of my relentless and undying love for them (insert dramatic pause). But at the end of the day, I made choices to love them—the parts that I did and didn't like.

In the past I have treated partners like this:

“You have to make up for all of the bullshit every bitch (don’t judge me) has done to me. As such, I am going to treat you like every bitch that has ever not fulfilled my ambiguous, outrageous and sometimes reasonable expectations I had of her. And if you really want me to be patient, get to know you, and understand how you function as a human being, don’t hold your breath. You WILL be who I want you to be because you’re cute and I have faith in you. Now, sign here….here…here…initial here and here…”

My Aunt says that I am handling my last breakup better than I have any other break up in the past. I disagree, of course. The last break-up was the worst for me (for a lot of reasons), but I am learning to channel sadness in a way that in the past would have immobilized me. In the past, I found a way to deny my emotions, transform them into a path of vindication or into a bubble of anger. I didn’t want to deal with the reality of what was and I certainly didn’t want to seem like a loser, like I couldn’t handle or love this person. I certainly wasn’t prepared to walk onto a stage in front of the “I told you so” crowd. This has not been easy. I think about her more than I’ll admit to.

Love never changes. Love has been the same since the first time I laid eyes on my pre-k playmate up until now. I’ve blamed love for a lot of shit. I’ve threatened to leave it. I’ve threatened to warn people about love’s dirty little secrets. I’ve threaten to take it away from people like a carrot on string. But love has been static—an immovable statue. I’ve just been running around it, hopping all over it from different vantage points, accusing it of being inconsistent and hurtful, when it was my own perspective that was flawed or constantly changing.

I’ve never had a failed relationship—ever. I’ve had relationships that ended. I’ve been hurt and I have been intentionally hurtful. I’ve used and I’ve been used. I have loved and I have been loved. I have broken and I have been broken.

I wanted to regret this last love experience. I wanted to say, “I KNEW this was going to happen.” There was something about it that always felt temporary, but I ignored that and tried to spread it as thinly as possible. I spread it so thin that it disappeared right in my hands. I wanted to say, “Man I should not have loved that girl. Ugh.” But I did. It was a very unique experience and I participated in a marathon of emotions that made me dislike her and love her in one single moment. I don’t regret the experience.

If I want to love someone, I have to love them like my heart has never been broken. An impossible feat, I’m sure. But I don’t want anyone to love me with a broken heart. In the past I have tried so hard not to be like my partners’ last experiences. I declared myself the great duct tape of their broken hearts, trying to prove to each of them that I was not like their old mates. I got so focused on dusting off my ill-fitting superman outfit to be the best lover that they ever had, that I spent very little time hearing how to love them and showing them how to love me. I became Captain, “doing too much and doing too little at the same time.”

I’m not bitter or angry. And although there is some residual sadness, longing and wonder, I am licking my wounds quietly and with great consideration.

I love being in love. The feeling is like no other. Whoever I meet and fall in love with next will not have to sign the, Bitches Ain’t Shit Manifesto. I am archiving it, because I don’t want my new love to have to die on the cross built by old loves. Everyone deserves a fresh start—even me.

Forever

2012-01-21T15:03:00.003-05:00

Aside from having a small crush on Algebra after going to a show in Detroit...I love this song.

We should have sex

2012-01-20T12:58:00.001-05:00

Conversations On The Morning Train

“I like your sweater.”
It was the first time in 15 days
In over 63 glances
And a few smiles, that she finally said something.
I was supposed to go first.
That is what the honorable lesbian handbook teaches us:
How to be a man
How to be heterosexual
How to be oxymoronic.
“It’s new.”
I left her silence
And she grabbed it with a blank stare.
I smiled.
She grinned.
I’ve had nightmares about falling in love.
What role to play.
I’m too tall not to be the man.
She’s too feminine not to be my wife.
My boo.
My irritating proper noun, who won’t be invited to family dinners.
“I like the colors.”
“Me too. Green is my favorite color. That’s why I bought it.”
She turned her body slightly.
“mine too.”
She lied.
I didn’t care.
Her smile told me the truth.
I like pretty girls.
The ones who wear their attitude in their walk
Fuck your mind
And flirt with the idea of winning your heart.
Chapter 7 teaches you how to be OK with that.
“I work downtown.”
I didn’t ask her.
But her eyes told me I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to do.
“Word. Me too.”
“Maybe we should get lunch sometime,” should be what I say next.
But I didn’t.
I should ask her for her number.
I’ve been waiting for this moment
For 15 days
63 glances
And a few smiles.
I looked down into my hands,
Searching for something clever to say
I remembered chapter 4:
“we should have sex.”

C.L. Jones

What's on your mind...

2012-01-20T06:51:00.003-05:00

Patchwork Beauty

2012-01-18T13:55:00.000-05:00

I remember not liking my nose. I didn’t love it at all. It was big and broad and in high school, I remember thinking I was ugly because of it. I remember hoping that one day I’d grow into it, not love it, but grow into it. I have my father’s nose, which by comparison looked perfectly fine on him. I always thought my father was handsome, and I wanted his brown eyes. My eyes are brown, but not as brown as his. I envied the dimples in my mother’s cheeks when she smiled, not realizing that my own dimples faintly appear when I would smile. I envied my brother’s popularity and confidence. I lived in the state of “want” for a time as a kid.

I love my nose and the way my smile sneaks into it, making it even broader! I noticed my nose in the mirror at work yesterday and it made me smile. I do that a lot—look in the mirror and smile.

Self love is challenging, especially when you juggle so many images of what is beautiful, what is acceptable and what is sexy. We’re exposed to so many external suggestions of what beautiful is, that it’s hard to imagine that we’re beautiful just as we are. It’s God’s great design that we all look different. In the factory that is heaven, there is no “ugly” pile and no “beautiful” pile. We attach those labels to ourselves in an effort to fit or let someone else know they don’t. You will never draw the conclusion of your own beauty by quilting together the standards other people use. Don’t ever seek the reflection of someone else in your mirror. You really are fine just the way you are.

Random Considerations While Vacationing

2012-01-17T14:22:00.000-05:00

I never got a chance to finish this list until now.

Here it goes.

• You don’t get to choose your family.

• Apologizing is not necessarily forgiving, but if actions follow the words, it’s a start.

• Never ever envy anyone. Everyone is struggling with something, and those who struggle the most often will never acknowledge it.

• If a person is transgendered, respectfully use the correct pronoun whether you agree or disagree.

• Stealing someone’s puppy is madd hurtful.

• When you truly love someone, you don’t treat them spitefully or intentionally hurt them. Love and malice don’t live on the same street—they don’t even have the same friends.

• Surround yourself with people who really support you NOT enable you. With experience, you will start to understand the difference.

• Exercise and eating good foods is good for mental health. Seriously. When you get even a little more exercise everyday, pay attention to what you eat, it makes a world of difference in how you think and feel about yourself.

• Practice! Practice! Practice!

• I really dig females with tattoos.

• STOP trying to find the keys to locked doors. Believe me, what’s behind door #2 is way better.

• Even if it is REALLY convincing, don’t believe everything anyone says to you. Some people practice sounding right even when they are dead wrong. Stick to your guns.

• Everyone wants attention.

• Vulnerability is NOT a weakness.

• I’m gonna get my gold chain fixed. I miss it. I look better in gold than in silver.

Photos from Vacation

2012-01-17T12:40:00.000-05:00

I had a really good two weeks in Florida for Xmas. I left most of my edited pictures of the trip in Florida on my cousin's computer--shit sucks, but I wanted to share what I was able to salvage. Enjoy!

Finding Quiet

2012-01-17T11:23:00.000-05:00

I sat in silence this morning.

It was probably the most peaceful five minutes that I have ever experienced. I’m addicted to noise, physical and emotional. My mind is always racing 30 steps ahead of itself which causes all kinds of confusion, and I am often misplaced among the things I need to do, want to do and wish I wasn’t engaged in.

I always thought silence to be vindictive, forcing me to confront thoughts that I am unprepared to address. But because I am really attempting to practice mindfulness, it wasn’t like I thought it would be. I foster more unwanted thoughts while entertaining all of the noise in my life. Sitting there for five minutes closed the door completely to the crowds of my thoughts. I was alone. It was freeing.

Fair Change

2012-01-16T01:02:00.000-05:00

My face is invisible.

This sign, my ID.

Can you spare some change, today?

C.L. Jones

Crawling

2012-01-13T16:05:00.002-05:00

I’ve been practicing mindfulness and breathing. Years ago it would have been an impossible task, but in the past six months, it’s been upgraded to extremely difficult.

That’s progress.

One of the major changes I am trying to make in my life is, hearing people. I believed it was only something I had difficulty doing when I was having a disagreement, but I am finding that it’s a habit present in every facet of my life. Recognizing that I don’t always hear has been the hardest part, but it has helped me greatly.

A good friend taught me a breathing technique that I practice before I go to bed every night. It really helps me get to sleep and I am finding that I can sleep through the night. I practice it on the train on the way into work and periodically while I am sitting at my desk. I didn’t realize how tense my body was until I began practicing this technique. When I am holding onto a lot of stress, exhaling feels like there is air being let out of my head. It’s pretty intense.

As I read and continue to sift through—everything, I have decided not to take any personal progress for granted. I’ve decided not to beat on myself for not following through with all of the principals and personal mantras I believe in. The most important thing is that I practice, even if it is just a very tiny window of practice. A small crawl forward is still forward.

Why we never made love

2012-01-10T19:41:00.002-05:00

I fucked you with urgency
Because
You loved me
like you were leaving.
My heart never adjusted
to the rhythm
of your never-ending
goodbyes.

C.L. Jones

Revision...

2012-01-10T19:15:00.002-05:00

Woman Warrior

(this may be finished…not sure)

She gave herself to me in small piles.

Most polished women are held together with glue.

sorting through her pages,

I made paper angels from her pain.

I folded her hands into paper airplanes

And watched her smirk

as I tried to figure out the rest.

I left love notes on her senile recollections

but she didn’t recognize the writing

--she didn’t understand the language.

She is transparent
and her strength
is so full of fear.

I tried untangling her,
but she is all rebel with no heart.

Her arms are full of wars and scars.

Memories in tattoos

She speaks in violence

Her tears are fists and screams

Her words are

catastrophic,

--graffiti’d with mute charm

but they become

sweet nectar to fools in blind folds.

In the mirror

She sees a flower

delicate

illuminating all kinds of colors,

even blues.

She is not a puzzle.

She is shattered--

and I can't
put her back together.

C.L. Jones

One of my Favorite...

2012-01-10T10:39:00.000-05:00

I'm at work, working through training notes and such, and one of my favorite Incognito songs began to play, and it represents how I am feeling these days.

Woman Warrior

2012-01-09T19:41:00.002-05:00

She’s all rebel with no heart.

Her arm

Full of wars and scars.

Memories in tattoos

She speaks in violence

Her tears are fists and screams

Her words

Catastrophic,

--graffiti’d with mute charm

is sweet nectar to fools in blind folds.

In the mirror

She sees a flower

delicate

illuminating all kinds of colors,

even blues.

C. L. Jones

No Strings

2012-01-08T15:24:00.001-05:00

I watched a movie called, No Strings Attached. It wasa random movie selection that I vaguely remember coming out in movie theaters. It was a funny movie. I do like movies where the comedy doesn’tnecessary have to be smart. I’m partialto goofy shit.

Aston Kutcher and Natalie Portman played a couple who metwhen they were pre-teens. The moviestarts with Aston asking Natalie if he can finger her. She says, no. The movie then follows them throughout the years running into each otherby chance until one time they run into each other and eventually have sex. Nataliewants to keep it casual while Aston struggles, creating uncomfortable and goofyencounters between the two in public. The shit was fucking hilarious, actually. Although it was clear Natalie was developingdeeper feelings for Aston, she tried very hard to keep it under wraps, eventelling Aston they can’t sleep with each other until they agree to sleep withother people. Aston finds two women tosleep with (they were actually more interested in sleeping with each other),and brings them back to his house. Natalie ends up at his house that night and scares off the girls. Near the end, Aston confesses that he reallywants more (and it was clear she did too, but couldn’t bring herself todisclose her feelings), she couldn’t deal and he started to move on with hislife---until she realized, in an emotional scene that only Hollywood cancreate, that she loves him and wants him, and of course they live happily everafter.

That shit happens every day and unfortunately the “happilyever after” scenarios are few and far in between. Loving anyone requires fearlessness. All ofthese rules and regulations we place on love to find the ideal partner for usa lot of times leaves us with a broken heart. If you’re not ready to love completely, don’tinitiate the process at all.

No strings romances can be great--a lot of sex, and a lotof fun. But if you’re really not ready for strings, even the smallest andshortest of strings, reposition your intention, and make sure your partner knows. If your heart is falling for someone, there may be a reason why.It may really be love. Love doesn’t always show up in its dedicateduniform, but it’s love nonetheless, sometimes unannounced, sometimes when we aren't prepared.

I have had no strings relationships before, most startedand ended that way, but there were a couple that ended capturing my heart andflowering into something deeper. Myexperiences with love and romance have taught me to love fearlessly. Love with all of yourself or don’t love atall. If you’re not ready for everything that comes with that, good and bad,then—you’re not ready and you certainly should drag other folks around selfishly for the ride.

Coming Out--Again.

2012-01-08T14:08:00.006-05:00

I came out last week at work. It wasn’t obtrusive ordramatic. It was reallyunintentional. I forget that I’m gaysometimes until some people remind me, and then I start to believe I am specialand should have a handicap parking space or somethin’. It’s politically incorrect to makeassumptions about sexual orientation based on aesthetic detail, but most of usfeel securely justified making those deductions, and “gaydar” aside, sometimes we’reright.

I turned down an opportunity to work for another law firmwhile waiting to hear back from BS. Althoughmy pockets were thin, I decided against my better judgment to wait. I did my research on BS and in comparison toother firms I have interviewed with and worked for, their culture seemed veryliberal and evolved—from the looks of it. Their EEO statement was pretty ambitious to me, because it not onlyincluded sexual orientation, but it also included gender identity andexpression. I am not privy to thesedistinctions at any other company, and of course being masculine identified, itwas a refreshing detail.

I opted to fill out that, sometimes confusing, demographicquestionnaire that companies will offer you when you apply for a job online orafter you have been hired. There weretwo questions: What is your race? Whatis your sexual orientation? I answered it—black lesbian. I wondered, after making my selections ifthis would affect my experience at BS, and in what way. It was a fleeting thought. The next day, when benefits were explained tome, she emphasized that domestic partnership benefits were offered and extendedto children of domestic partners. Fucking awesome.

At this point all of my closet doors are locked, andthere will be no attempts made to step back in there. Any attempts of trying to “pass” or live mylife in the closet is as about as possible as trying to hide a ship behind atree—a baby tree. Coming out of thecloset unfortunately is not a one-time event and a lot of times, although it isa personal relief, you do it every time you create new experiences with newpeople. When you start a new job, do youput that picture of you and your “partner?” Do you even say “my partner” to avoid potential confrontation for saying“my girlfriend,” and the uncomfortable reaction you may get?

Yes, perhaps we are moving towards a more open, liberalsociety and world, but there are people who are still uncomfortable with sexualorientation outside of heterosexuality. Peopledon’t have to accept who you are, and there are still plenty of people in theworld who are not afraid to let you know.

What you say...

2012-01-01T21:10:00.001-05:00

bad words can be real freedom

comforting allies

much needed blessings—not curses.

CL. Jones

2012 evolution.

2011-12-31T22:44:00.002-05:00

I am bringing in the New Year alone—this is a goodthing. Although there have been bumps,break -ups and break- downs, I’ve had a pretty awesome year. I have a lot to be grateful for and I takenothing for granted. I am very excitedabout the possibilities of 2012. I will share with you an abbreviated list ofthings I plan on doing and taking into consideration as I welcome the New Year.

Choosing your battles:Arguments are not my thing, especially the irrational kind. When I am feelingirrational about something, I am finding it is best to just walk away. I’vedone that a few times in the last month, and the impact was incredible. You can walk away, and sometimes you should.

Listening: I’vespent a good majority of time fighting to be heard. In some cases, I have failed to hear otherfolks because I was too busy trying to win or get someone to see things myway. It’s time to gain control of myego, and really hear people for a change. It’s OK that I am not always heard. Hearing folks will open the door to new perspectives.

Blaming yourself: Don’t. Some things are completely out of ourcontrol, and it is not always up to us to fix or assign blame. Just let it be. Things always work out likethey are supposed to.

Shutting the hell up: This kind of goes a long withlistening and choosing your battles. Youdon’t have to say everything that pops into your head, unless you are 2 or 82. I am going to use silence not as a weapon ofrebellion, but as a tool of genuine reflection. I’ve allowed way too many situations to escalate because I didn’t take abreak from a disagreement.

Take more risks: With love, with yourjob, with whatever it is that makes you smile and gives you joy—take the riskand do it. It is easy to keep planningfor opportunities, but sometimes that is just plain ol’ procrastination. Get in there, do what YOU want to do. But don’twait; you may not get another opportunity.

Love without fear: If you choose tolove someone this year, love them for real. Love them like it’s the first time. Love them just as strongly, if not more when things are bad just as muchas you do when they are good. We’re all human and we are all transparent andcomplicated. If you can’t love someonecompletely despite who they are, then don’t love them at all.

Re:Building: Killing The Victim

2011-12-14T15:11:00.001-05:00

“Feeling sorry for yourself and telling others your storywill keep you stuck in suffering.”

Eckhart Tolle

“All that arises passes away. I have learned to offer noresistance to what is; I have learned to allow the present moment to be and toaccept the impermanent nature of all things and conditions. Thus I have foundpeace.”

-Eckhart Tolle

I have always been comfortable being the victim. Typing that is kind of embarrassing, but itis a realization I made as I have been having this internal dialog. Lately, I have been asking myself questions thatmay make me uncomfortable. I easily fallback into old behaviors and habits when I have had enough of what appears like,“the bullshit (which takes 30 seconds).” I get angry. I do angrythings. That’s normal shit. And the things that go along with my angerare just things I am accustomed to and things that I have tried to make otherpeople accept, because well, I’m angry—so accept it.

I don’t have to tell you that’s bullshit.

There is something comforting about being the victim. Being the victim allows you to make excusesfor treating other people poorly. Youcan use your “story” to manipulate other folks into believing that yourfeelings and concerns are more important and should be treated more delicatelythan theirs. I am not dismissing my painor the experiences that have caused it. It’sreal; it’s legitimate.

In the past I have found journaling liberating. In fact, recently, I gathered all of myjournals starting from 1989 and glanced through them. There were entries thatmade me chuckle, but many made me embarrassed or uncomfortable. Theembarrassment I think came from me judging Cherina the kid, the teenager andthe young adult. I felt kind of badabout feeling that way. In addition tothat, in the past I have never been shy about telling people, especiallyfriends and lovers, how broken and dysfunctional my relationship is with mymother. I have demonized her, crying onthe shoulders of others hoping to find freedom and closure—especially freedom.I have envied other mother/daughter relationships. I have always characterized her as somethingbad, waiting for her to apologize or acknowledge some kind of wrong doing ormisjudgment—anything. I have addressedher directly and indirectly and achieved nothing but frustration, collectingeven more anger to manage and project. It’sbeen miserable.

Forgiveness is not easy. I have written about doing it, butit is something I struggle with tremendously. I have walked down the halls of forgiveness almost with a “I am betterthan you, so this is why I forgive you and I hope you forgive me back” mentality. It has always been about me, but not in a waythat has been good or promoted any kind of healing or closure. I have charged other people to handle mecompassionately and thoughtfully when I have been unwilling to handle myselfthat way, not to mention treat everyone I encounter that way. At times, I have used what I have learnedspiritually in a way that was so self-serving that it actually made situationshave been in worse! I have even used itto further my agenda of letting people know they owe me something, when theyowe me nothing at all.

As I start this next chapter in my life, I want to work onmourning the victim in me. I really wantto let the victim in me die. I, ofcourse, want people to treat me compassionately, thoughtfully and with reallove, not because of my “story,” but because they should. I am practicingtreating people compassionately as well. It is something that I thought I was doing before, but after someconsideration, I was doing a lot of selfish listening and only expressingcompassion when it was easy or served me in some conspicuous way.

We are all victims of something great or small. Some of us struggle with our “story” morethan others, and there is nothing wrong with that. Our experiences lead us to this space we arein right now, and I am learning to celebrate those experiences as strongly as Ihave disliked them in the past.

My greatest goal right now is getting back to, or perhapsstarting to really love myself. I’m not a victim, I’m a victor (in my old blacksouthern Baptist minister voice). I haveeasily fooled myself into believing I have needed to change myself either forsomeone else or for myself (mostly for someone else). But I have bought intothat because I have live my life as this beat down victim, convinced thatsomething was wrong with me, clinging to those things and people thatconsciously or unconsciously exploit that.

I am tired of suffering. It doesn’t feel good and most importantly there is nothing anyone can doto stop it.

Here’s to rebuilding.

The Truth Is...

2011-12-11T14:56:00.001-05:00

When I moved to Philadelphia, I had to take into accountwhat I really wanted—in a job, and even in a partner, which is why Ientertained a few dinner dates a couple of months back. But, when I moved from Cleveland, it was thefirst time I wasn’t running away from something. I knew that I wanted something different andto start something new and if I didn’t do it now, I feared I would be in a perpetual space of preparing tomove.

About a month into my move, I started to stop myself whenI was angry or uneasy. I’d ask myself, “Whatare you really upset about? What isreally bothering you?” I had never takenthe time to really do that. I’d just bemad, sad or hurt without really trying to understand. Growing into an adult (which I am stillgrowing up, so to speak), I am starting to give myself more and more room tofeel whatever I am feeling without fighting or defending it. That can be easy when it’s just you, but it’sa hell of a challenge when someone else is involved.

The other day I said something to someone in a way thatwas sharp, and although honest, in the end, it was unnecessary. It came off as an attack, and perhaps in away it was, but it also WAS how I felt. It was my perception of the situation which is ultimately my truth of the events. It completely severed a relationship, whichafter further consideration, should have been severed way before now. But how I approached this situation was areminder of why I have grown to be more careful when exposing my feelings or my truth.

Although I believe it is healthy to get things off ofyour chest (which is why I write) and be open about how you feel with friends,family and lovers, I believe honesty without true compassion is the antithesisof “keepin’ it real.” I’ve worked hardto be compassionate. I grew up in ahousehold where compassion was a foreign concept. I am no longer angry about that, it is justthe reality of what was. Compassion isan effective tool for real communication. Communication is not just allowing someone to say anything to youbecause that is just how he or she is “feeling.” Communication is also about listening and choosingwords in a way that promotes loving-kindness. Communication is not aboutwinning or poking holes in the way someone feels. I am VERY guilty of this. Attacking someone for not allowing you to sayany and everything to them, especially and more specifically negative words toget a reaction or to hurt, is not communicating. No one should be charged with theresponsibility of receiving that kind of communicationas normal, and you’re certainly not weak because you won’t accept it. I had to be OK with not being OK with people assaulting me with their truth and mebuying into that and making it mine.

I regret going back on the way I handle communicating my “truth.” Truth may make people uneasy, but wrapping itin barbed wire, taping dynamite to it and then throwing it in someone’s face, andexpecting to be respected as a person who is “just honest” is not onlybullshit, but epitomizes dishonesty.

Although I am still taking into account what I reallywant, I realized what is most important, once I sort it all out, is sticking towhat I know and what works for me.

Oh, Sharon! Privacy is not private!

2011-12-06T15:12:00.001-05:00

I want to sympathize with Sharon Smalls, but I can’t. There were a few people sharing a storyyesterday about Sharon Smalls, who is the principal at Jane Addams High Schoolin New York City. The article was abouta picture circulating on the internet and throughout her school of her with ashirtless man who is pouring chocolate on both of them. She is fully clothed and it looks like shewas either at a male review or a bachelorette party. On its face, the photo is not thatoutrageous, even the look on her face is barely enthusiastic through her smile. It almost looked like she was saying toherself, “how in THE HELL am I gonna get these chocolate stains out of this yellowdress.”

It is unfortunate that our “after work” activities can be soeasily accessed and maliciously modified or taken out of context. We want our personal lives to be personal,but so many of us have jumped on the social networking bandwagon, which possibilitycreates the greatest vulnerability to privacy. A lot of people put their entire lives online-- baby pictures, new loves,new babies, deaths, fears, joys, and jealousy. The scandals of our lives take center stage on Facebook andTwitter. We are proud to share thepositive, more attractive images of ourselves with no argument, but when the lessfavorable images surface, we scream bloody murder. You can’t have it both ways.

Some things are out of our control. People can be maliciousand modify pictures and video to exploit and do damage. But most things are in our control. I don’t necessarily believe that peopleSHOULD be role models, but sometimes the careers we choose and decisions wemake force us to be more meticulous about the choices we make on and off theclock. I’m not anti- strippers,stripping, sex, porn, or any other raunchy thing that people may be into. But if you are into those kinds of things andwant to document those experiences, don’t post them online or make themaccessible to any third parties. Theinternet is not private; it never has been. Privacy is not the responsibility of Facebook or Twitter, it’s solely upto us. Although my profile is prettylocked down, I don’t take for granted that somewhere out in the world that myphotos and online activities are being leaked and viewed. When I did a search on Google for my name,photos from my “secure” Facebook profile came up. How is that for privacy?

If you want your personal life to stay personal, either getoff the grid or minimize how much time you spend and how much information youshare.

But honestly, Sharon Smalls being photographed next to achocolate covered shirtless man is the LEAST of her problems. It seems like she has a track record formaking poor decisions. This photographis just the cherry on top of plethora of incidents she has to answer to.

the finish line

2011-12-06T13:26:00.001-05:00

After three months of sending out resumes andparticipating in a marathon of interviews, I wasn’t offered one, but twojobs. I chose the job that was mostcompatible to the work/life balance I need as I adjust to my new life inPhiladelphia. This particular companyprides itself in its diversity, so I am both excited and curious to see iftheir proclamations are true.

Those who have cheered me on during this process ofmoving and finding a job know how often I have stared fear and discouragementsquare in the face. But these threemonths have shown me how strong I am and that change is a necessary component forgrowth.

I had a lot of time to think about the decisions I havemade and what I really want going forward. One day I actually caught myself searching for things to worry about,and at that point I realized that there are definitely some things I needed tochange. And as much as I would love to sharethat list here, I will just say, going forward the goal is to just live myhappiest, best life. I’ve been prettymoved by stories of people dying in their forties and people young and old,committing suicide. These kinds ofstories bother me. Although I have notcompletely wrapped my mind around longevity equaling a full quality life, I don’twant to be 80 years old and realize that I have never lived at all. I am sure there have been people who havedied at 33 and lived a more fulfilling life than someone who is 75.

I am sifting and reassessing the things that matter in mylife against the things that do not. Idon’t want to fight for happiness anymore; I am just going to be happy. I don’t want to force things to work becauseI think they should. If things aren’tworking, there is a reason for it. WhateverI want to do, if it feels right, I’ll go for it, if it doesn’t, I won’t.

New city. New opportunities. New perspective.

This should be good.

8 things I learned last month:

2011-12-04T19:51:00.001-05:00

1. Thereis certainly happiness in becoming what you always set out to be, but enjoyingand taking in the experience is where I am finding the most joy.

2. Situationsand people change, even when we are unprepared, even when we protest. I am learning to recognize change and changemy expectations accordingly.

3. Itis certainly painful when what we want is something we can’t have—but it wasnever yours to begin with.

4. Behappy. Not in the dismissive anddepressing tone of, “it could be worst,” but find what makes you happy andpractice that. It’s EASY to allow thingsto get you down. Rolling down a hill isway easier than climbing up one. But when you climb a hill, you have to usemore of your strength and make more of an effort, so that by the time you reachthe top, you’re stronger. I realized,you don’t have to race up that hill, and you may even slide down once or twelvetimes, but you keep going. So what if ittakes someone 2 minutes to climb that hill and it takes you two days—you madeit, and that is a victory.

5. LISTENto people’s actions, unlike their words, they never really lie.

6. Ihave an awesome group of friends and family. These three months have been rough, but if it were not for my familyencouraging me and my friends cheering me on, despite how things seemed, I wouldhave been a very different space right now.

7. Youcan’t take good mental health for granted. I don’t know if life is long or short. I would like to think I will live a very long time, but who knows. I decided that I want to enjoy my life, nomatter when my expiration date. I have to take care of my spirit, MIND andbody. I have to take mental breaks andstep away from things that get me wound up and overly stimulated.

8. Fearsand insecurities exist in all of us, just because some of us are more conspicuousand open with it, doesn’t make those who are not, void of them. It’s in there, and once you find them, that’shalf the battle.

The Life Myth

2011-11-22T16:58:00.001-05:00

I don’t know what it is that makes me completely comfortablearound people who are freely vulgar. Notnecessarily obnoxiously disrespectful at inappropriate times, but people whoare OK with “fuck that,” “I don’t give a shit,” and the occasional, “kiss myass.”

There was a guy I used to work with; he was actually oneof the directors at the law firm I used to work for. He was a marine and cussed like a sailor. He didn’t cuss to be mean or command respect,it was just something he did, and for some reason, because of that, I feltcompletely comfortable around him.

There is something endearing about people who arecompletely comfortable with their imperfections and the less flattering facetsof who they are.

Years ago I dated a woman who was annoyed by me wearingmy emotions on my sleeve. For a time, itmade me insecure about expressing what some would call “weaker” emotions, likesadness, disappointment, fears, and insecurities. After we cancelled our romance, I only feltcompletely secure expressing anger and making funny with my friends. I denied sadness and fear with the authoritativefist of anger, but balled inside of that fist were all of those “weaker”emotions that I had been shamed into not expressing.

We are spiritual. We are emotional. You robyourself of really living when you allow yourself to suppress emotions becausesomewhere in some fictional handbook for basic living, someone has identifieddisappointment, sadness, anger, insecurities, and fears as something “bad,”something to be looked down on. Peopleare not always skipping around happy with no worries, it’s a delusionalreality, and usually people who are, are taking the red pills. Sure, you don’t have to be a bleeding heart,but there is certainly nothing wrong with people who are.

I have experienced a buffet of emotions these last few months. Transitions are awakening moments for me, butthey are also times when I am my most sensitive. During these times I typically rescind frommost people as I work through things and refocus (recharge) my energy. These times always makes me stronger, makesme grow taller and live wiser.

Strength is not about the power of holding on, but thecourage of letting go--of yourself.

Finding A Resolution

2011-11-17T13:05:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I had a long conversation with a friend. It was refreshing. We haven’t spoken in a long time, and it wasclear that we both needed an ear. It wasa conversation we have had several times before—about love, life, fears,rejections, the past, and how to move forward.

An incident took place a few days ago that gave mepause. It revealed something in me thatI didn’t like and I wasn’t comfortable with.

I’m guilty of trying to change people, and I am guilty ofallowing people to change me. It isregrettably true. I had to ask myself,as I observe other people work through trying to “save” the lives of theirloved ones, if I am guilty of the same thing, and it is clear that I am.

I have to stop making excuses for myself and do someserious “soul searching.” I keepcircling back around to the same issues, never really addressing them, neverreally finding a resolution.

It’s time to face some things—for real this time.

Sunday Mornings

2011-11-01T01:19:00.002-04:00

Sunday I collapsed in my tears. These tear were long overdue. Everything came to a head. I was angry, disappointed, sad, lonely,bored, uninspired, and in great need of a hug. Because I tend to figure things out, whatever the obstacle, I don’toften find the time to mourn my disappointments, hangups and worries, but I doworry—a lot.

I told a couple of friends that I will cry once everything worksout according to my plans. My plans havezigged, zagged, uturned, cartwheeled, and left all kinds of residualincompletion scattered throughout my path. So Sunday, I just cried. I hadbeen engaging all of these negative outcomes of every real situation in mylife. It was horrible, and I felthorrible.

Today, I wondered if my tears were a reminder that thingshad worked out, but I just haven’t been supplied with the details. I didn’t really have room to consider thatuntil today. I have decided that myissues have been resolved and I am just waiting on further instructions on howto move forward.

I took inventory of my life, and despite everything, I’m ingood hands.

This guy I went to high school with died recently. I believe he had a heart attack—he was34. I don’t know what happens after thislife. Some people believe there isheaven beyond the clouds and a hell beneath our feet, and once we expire we arescheduled to show up in one of those places. Some of us believe we will be reunited with loved ones and even Goditself. I don’t know what is going to happen when I die and although I don’tdwell on death and dying, I know that I don’t want to die knowing that I spentmy life worrying and not enjoying it.

I have a, “I can chill, once I do this” philosophy that isn’tworking. I will always have somethingunfinished and in the works. I willalways have bills and other typical life incidentals that will always bethere. I can’t keep allowing thosethings to blind me from the good things—and there are good things.

I know I have a great support system. I know I will never be homeless, without ameal or without spiritual enlightenment—no one will ever allow that. I believe that, and it’s important, because thatsupport system is the only sense of security, while I continue to slip andslide through this transition, that I have. Knowing that, my walks will be more enjoyable, my laughs more sincere,and most of all, there will be rest. There will finally be a little rest.

Around this time in ‘78

2011-10-09T19:10:00.001-04:00

I never want anything for my birthday. It’s been like this for the past five years,maybe even longer. I’m horrible atplanning parties for myself, and although I am thankful for parties planned forme, it rarely happens and I always feel like I can never be expressively happyenough for the act of thoughtfulness. Itake what I can get for my birthday, if it’s a “happy birthday,” I’ll take it(money and gifts are never frowned on though). As old as this may seem, I’m just happy to see another birthday. I am thankful for the little things, honestly. It does suck being away from my friends inCleveland on my birthday. I’m sure Iwould have gone out for a drink with a group of them, but I was able to driveto Jersey to see my Uncle and his wife, and that made my day. I haven’t seen my Uncle in about three or fouryears, and now that I am only an hour and a half away, I’ll probably get to seehim more often. We went to eat and thenwatched the Giants throw away a win. Itwas a really pleasant afternoon, and after being in a city for almost twomonths with no familiar faces to interact with daily, it felt great to bearound my family.

Happy birthday to me.

The Things I Can’t Write About

2011-10-02T04:02:00.001-04:00

I wanted to write about Troy Davis, but decided not to. I watched Facebook blow up as we all waitedanxiously to see if the Supreme Court would deliver some justice. I decided against posting any updates aboutTroy Davis. Not surprisingly, the Supreme Court did not deliver justice and TroyDavis passed on, at 11 08p last Wednesday. Although I was saddened by theentire ordeal, the bigger picture brings me greater sorrow.

I wanted to write about this video I came across on Facebookposted by a friend. I don’t likereposting things unless I can verify that what I am cosigning is true. It’s not that I haven’t posted unverifiedinformation in the past, it’s just now I am realizing how damaging falseinformation can be. Anyway, it was avideo of a man that was being beaten and ultimately burned to death. It can be delightful and downright shamefulwhat we capture with video and choose to share with the world. The description of the video indicated theman being killed was a homosexual. Thereis nothing on the video that confirms that, and my searches on Google to findany information about it left me with no information at all. The video was shot in another country. I was astonished and my heart grew heavywatching this young man die—whoever he was, however he identified.

I wanted to write about the movie, MOOZ-lum and how deeply I could relate. There is so much love and peace that religioncan bring to our lives, but it is sometimes used as a weapon to control,manipulate and terrorize the very people who could use it most. I cried.

I wanted to write about the hundreds of people “occupying” WallStreet. I’m fed up, too. People are becoming miracles instead ofwaiting for them to happen, and I completely support that.

Things are changing.

Considerations While Growing

2011-09-13T15:37:00.001-04:00

Sometimes when I am challenged by someone about who I am, Ipersonalize it unnecessarily and question myself. When I do that, I put road blocks in mypath. I take those subjectiveobservations as solid evaluations of who I am. It is true, that we can’t possible see what another person may see inus, but that doesn’t mean external judgments are accurate.

People have a habit of projecting their complexities,issues and agendas. We do this when wemeet people, when we are befriending and building relationships. What I perceive as good and successful islargely due to my unique experiences and circumstances. What can be identified as negativeexperiences as a child and as an adult has shaped my attitude about people andtheir potential in my life. It’s not abad thing, but it does dictate how I build relationships.

How you choose to live your life is not right or wrong,there just may be people who don’t approve, and that’s OK. It’s OK to be open to advice, suggestions andobserve how other people handle similar circumstances, but as a friendsuggested to me last night, don’t doubt yourself. Sometimes advice is given to fulfill personalagendas, desires or someone’s idea of who theybelieve you should be. Advice offered inthat way maybe good, but not necessarily good for you. Do what’s best for you. Don’t doubt yourself. A person who becomes angry with you about nottaking their advice, or distances themselves from you, is not looking out foryour best interest—they’re looking outfor their own.

More Than A Season

2011-09-06T16:36:00.001-04:00

When you find someone you are really in love with, it’s tragic when it’s not the right time or when it doesn’t work out. I’ve been in love and have loved before. I have put effort into sustaining relationships no matter how ambiguous, but I knew when it was over, it was over.

I’m still in love right now. I’m fighting the fact that it needs to be over, and trying to temper the blow of a failed romance with the possibility of an affable friendship. The plausibility is slippery. We’re really good friends. We laugh at things that other people may not find funny. We have some pretty thought- provoking debates, we make fun of ourselves, we can talk about anything and we can laugh at everything. We’ve created fictional characters that we would have a hard time explaining to anyone else. I’ve never had to turn on the radio on long road trips—we just talk, and laugh (AND she lets me listen to AM talk radio if we aren’t talking). I get the best sleep when we sleep together and she still makes me nervous when I am around her.

I’ve had a lot of the wrong people at the right time in my life, but finding the right person at the wrong time has been far more disappointing. The reality of breaking up is more than a notion—it happens. I don’t want to trivialize my feeling with “things happen for a reason.” We use that aphorism to make ourselves feel better about our failures, but it does nothing to soothe our egos or heal our hearts.

I love her. But I don’t want to hold onto her and squeeze her so tight that she breaks—we break. I don’t want to sketch the gray and blues of resentment on our legacy. It is imperfect, frustrating and downright unnecessary at times the way we treat and relate to one another, but I’ve never been in love like this. It certainly surpasses infatuation by light years.

I’m working through it.

I’m getting there.

Let’s Try Something New

2011-09-02T20:32:00.002-04:00

We do shit to hurt each other all of the time. And it’s never for any other reason than tomassage our egos and make us moreimpressed with ourselves. I don’t liketo intentionally hurt people, and for people I care about, I try to checkmyself and check on them once I’m called to the carpet. At times I can be pretty reluctant in doingso, but in the end I just want everything and everyone to be cool.

I get caught up in not wanting to maliciously hurtpeople, so I reserve comments and observations for more appropriate times orstore them as fleeting thoughts. As Igrew up and got older, I just decided that conversations and confrontationsthat conjure up negative bullshit and eventually lead to no one being any wiserwas just a fucking waste of time. Badcommunication and silence are both modes of communication and CAN equally be ineffective.

I don’t know. I’mfeeling rather vulnerable to this anger chaotic world. I’m leaning towards just telling everymuthafucker what I think of them, what’s on my mind and be void of compassionor understanding. Shit, I fight againstpeer pressure, but fuck it, I think I am just going to follow suit and be asmean and pretentious as everyone else. I’mgay, so I’m certainly not going to heaven, and I’m certainly not getting thattoaster oven they’re giving out at the pearly gates.

The people here in Philly are pretty fucking mean, somaybe I’m not used to that. Or maybe Iam just yielding myself to too many negative experiences. Either way, maybe I should put on my cape ofassholery full-time. Maybe I will bejust as content and feel just as normal as the people around me.

I think it’s worth a try.

Friendship Cliff Notes

2011-08-30T21:38:00.000-04:00

Moving to Philadelphia hasn’t left me with much room to think or do much of anything else. But as the dust settles, issues and annoyances that I had to put aside are making their way back into the forefront of my brain.

I took some Nyquil and I’m about to turn in, so I am going to skip the nonsense of paragraphs and gift you all with another list.

1. Sometimes when you’re trying to protect your ego, you gamble losing people who care about you. Learn when to take your head out of your ass. It’s not always about you—but then again, maybe it is.

2. I’m down with the whole seasonal friendship bullshit, but I hate being treated like a culprit without being tied to a crime. It’s stupid. It gets old.

3. I don’t like falling out with friends, so I am glad I made amends with my homie, Jackson.

4. Friendships are nothing but relationships; sometimes you have to break up.

5. Fear can’t sustain friendships.

6. Speak the fuck up. Friendships should allow for communication on all levels. Silence is a way to communicate, but it is also a way for people to draw their own conclusions. You never want me to draw my own conclusion. I got MADD drawing skills.

7. Only save what wants to be saved. Fuck the rest.

Jesus Camp

2011-08-22T20:02:00.000-04:00

As promised, I am continuing to blog here. I realized that part of the reason I have been less inspired to write is because I haven’t been spending much time reading. That’s not to say that there hasn’t been crazy shit going on in my life—I have a lot of writing material, believe me. I just have been too lazy to string together anything remotely witty as it concerns the bizarre encounters I have.

People have been reaching out to me wanting to link up before I leave, so Friday night I decided to hang out with my homies Mark and Shannon. After freestyling to a DJ Premier beat on Xbox, they decided to traumatize me by making me watch the documentary, Jesus Camp. It was like growing up in COGIC all over again, but worse.

My heart went out to those kids. I remember being a kid and being scared of death and hell. It fucks with you. It used to consume me when I was a kid growing up in the church. Every little thought I had I judged and questioned. I was pretty miserable.

Church is not all bad, neither is religion. The church can be a pretty positive affirming tool to better help you understand faith and keep the peace in your life. But it scares the shit out of me when people use a self-serving agenda to push and sell Jesus, or to send people to hell over asinine bullshit completely unrelated to the message Jesus spread.

If you hear people talk about God and Jesus and it’s not about love—for everyone, then they’re not talking about God or Jesus, they’re talking about themselves.

New Blog

2011-08-14T22:12:00.000-04:00

I've been blogging here since 2008. I haven't been dedicated to it like I have in the past. A lot of that is due to all the changes taking place and me shifting my attention to photography. Don't worry, I don't plan on deleting it completely. I do plan on writing even less on this blog as I am trying to create some followership with my new blog, chronicling my move to Philly and the changes to come. Check it out. Tell your auntie.

C.

Quote Of The Day

2011-08-02T09:02:00.002-04:00

"Accept people for who they are. Don't force them to conform to your needs and expectations. Allow them to express their full potential."

-Deepak Chopra

In This Moment

2011-08-02T07:27:00.002-04:00

I was able to achieve a moment of peace while meditating last night and this morning. Breathing techniques suggested by a friend helped a lot. It was the first time in many attempts at meditating that I felt relaxed and peaceful. I wasn’t preoccupied with the time, and I was able to sit still and focus on my breathing.

I park down in the flats in the mornings and walk a short distance to work. Every morning I bustle along side other people hurrying to punch in the clock. I don’t walk nearly as fast as I used to, but my hurried gait is routine, especially at this time. I usually think about the night before or all of the things I have to take care of by the end of the day. It’s always an intense walk—a reluctant walk.

After meditation this morning I felt good. I parked my car and started into my daily sprint, and then I stopped. I started to walk slow and take in the morning. It’s pretty quiet at 6 am. The birds are in concert and the wind is blowing in a whisper. I took in what I saw and felt not being consumed with the challenges of the day. I was being in the moment.

I decided that I need to practice “being in the moment” at some point everyday. The more I practice, the easier it will become.

Ramadan

2011-08-01T10:31:00.000-04:00

Today starts the first day of Ramadan. For those of you are unfamiliar, Ramadan is a month set aside and celebrated by the Muslim community for fasting and prayer.

I don’t practice Islam, and I haven’t fasted for spiritual purposes since I was in High School. But this month, I have decided to fast with my peers for Ramadan. I need to do this more than I ever have. It will be challenging, but I am going to give up a couple of things for Ramadan. My biggest goal is to engage in meditation every night and every morning, as well as think positively about every situation in my life, even if I have not done so in the past. I can do it, and I will do it. I won’t set myself up for failure like I have in the past.

I will blog everyday only offering positive reflections and links to articles that offer the same.

Iman Khalid Latif wrote an excellent article on the Huffington Post. When you get a chance take a read.

In any case, happy Ramadan.

That Thing

2011-07-26T14:25:00.004-04:00

I had every intention on heading to Detroit this past weekend. My original plans fell through and I decided I would go to Columbus instead. I hadn’t been there in over two years and figured I’d get out my camera and snap some pictures. I contacted a friend of mine and planned for lunch on Sunday.

Friday night I received a text out of the blue from another very dear friend. She reached out to let me know that she and her husband were going to be in Columbus until Tuesday. It was a very pleasant surprise! There have always been intentions for us to get together, but with her being in Georgia, opportunities for us getting together are hard to come by. It was PERFECT timing!

________________________________________________

As my friend and I caught up over lunch, we talked about our love lives. We dated for a brief minute some years ago, but we have never really discussed relationships in general. She’s dating this guy and although she likes him, she hates the entire process. I’m not dating, but I want to eventually. I’ve been in two relationships and dated women here and there with no real connection. I haven’t opened myself to anyone since my first love.

For the past month, I have been having an internal conversation about openness and vulnerability. There are a myriad of circumstances that make us closed to connecting with others. I think for many people there is true desirability to be open, but in the process of developing relationships, our effort can sometimes be driven by skepticism and pessimism.

The reason I have been virtually closed in attempts at romance and friendships, is because I haven’t felt safe. People open up when they feel like it’s OK to open up. Even with my closest friends there is some reservation, but there are a rare few people I open up to like the sun opening its arms in the sky. It’s a natural thing too. We have never discussed how easy it is to be open with each other, or , if we were, why we are closed to each other. There is a natural attraction and safety that I feel around them that allows them to enjoy the light in me, and for me to enjoy the light in them.

We choose people to be in our lives based upon very practical things. We spend decades building relationships based on commonalities, physical attraction, familial kinships, fashion tastes, shared habits, etc. But it’s also true that you bring people in your life based on a feeling, based on that invisible, odorless energy that draws you to someone without inhibition. There are people who have reached out to me that I won’t befriend. It’s nothing bad about them that I can pinpoint, and often they are friendly, accommodating people. There is just something there that keeps me at arms length.

I’ve tried unsuccessfully to be open and vulnerable under many circumstances. In doing so, I always felt bad or upset with myself for not being a more open person. But it’s not always a bad thing. There is something in us that makes us unconsciously pull away from or move towards people. We have to start listening to that thing; it’s rarely wrong.

Amy Winehouse: Rest In Peace

2011-07-25T13:03:00.003-04:00

“It’s not just my pride, it’s just ‘till these tears have dried…”

Amy Winehouse

“No matter how hard we are, how tough we are, we need to be someone’s baby.”

Earl “DMX” Simmons

There is something inside of me that exhaled when I heard that Amy Winehouse had passed away. There was a fleeting moment of deep sadness that followed.

Like many people, I took a good portion of my weekend browsing Amy Winehouse videos and listening to her music. I looked on in silence as I watched her perform on youtube. I didn’t think about much of anything as I watched, I just took her in. She is probably more human to me than ever, her lyrics more enchanting and her voice more commanding. I’ve always been a fan of Amy Winehouse. I was rooting for her return. I missed her music and tried not to get caught up in the mockery of her addiction and the demons that arrested her. I didn’t find it easy to ridicule her, so I didn’t.

I don’t know what it’s like to struggle with addiction, but enough people have died from and struggle with it, that it creates an empathetic understanding in me.

We all need to be loved in unique ways. We are not blank canvases. We come with our own stories and demons that control our path. I don’t know what Amy Winehouse’s triggers were. I don’t know what made her feel safer under the spell of drugs. I wonder if she knew how adored and talented she was? I wonder if she knows she will be missed by all of us…

I believe there is a peace she has come face to face with now that unfortunately she was unable to experience here. Although it makes me sad, I had to exhale.

We always appreciate people most when they are gone. There is something about death that improves our ability to find the good in people, but when they were alive we criticized and demonstrated little understanding and patience.

Musicians and entertainers are people. They are not required to live up to any higher standards because they are gifted. Pray for their best selves while they are alive, so we won’t have to reminisce over who they could have been.

RIP, Amy Winehouse.

New Tattoo?

2011-07-23T23:07:00.000-04:00

I’m told there is a great degree of narcissism involved when getting a tattoo. I’m a narcissist, but my one tattoo is about 14 years old, and although I have had the desire to get more tattoos, I have never found anything fascinating or meaningful enough. I’m not as conservative as I am thought to be, I’m just thoughtful and haven’t come up with anything meaningful enough to consider on my body.

I’ve been doing some reading this weekend and I read a little about the moth. I see a lot of people with butterfly tattoos, and I suppose my degree of narcissism will not allow me to get a tattoo so greatly used by other people. I don’t see a lot of moth tattoos. The moth doesn’t stand out as being particularly beautiful. I never wanted to reincarnate as a moth; they seem so delicate and easily preyed upon. Moths are drawn to light, and that is typically where I have seen them, loitering around a porch light. On a more complex level, the moth is actually a symbol of the soul’s quest for truth. Because of its delicate body and the brevity of its overall life, the moth represents fragility and impermanence—frequently dying in its pursuit of light.

I found that fascinating and a pretty accurate narration of my own path. So maybe a moth? On my forearm? I’ll look into it.

Charmed

2011-07-23T22:46:00.001-04:00

At a red light this afternoon, I exhaled. This week in particular has been pretty stressful, and the anticipation of moving blindly makes me pretty anxious. I looked in my side mirror and saw a ladybug. If you know anything about the ladybug, you know that it is a symbol of good luck. I don’t know if it was there to wish me good luck or to remind me that I have good luck. Either way, some of the tension I was feeling dissipated. Everything will be okay.

Don’t say I didn’t tell you so…

2011-07-21T12:11:00.003-04:00

With the many changes that are about to take off in my life, I have had a chance to reflect on some things in the past few weeks :

o When people show/tell you who they are, believe them.

o You’re never too old to make big changes in your life. Have faith and be prepared.

o Learn to let go. I’ve heard that some things that are good to you are not good for you. I’m learning to separate the two.

o Listen to your heart. Live by your truth. I’m horrible at verbal confrontation. I know that arguments made by me are better left articulated on paper, and particularly after I have come down from being angry or upset about any initial dialog or misunderstanding. Knowing this about myself, I have to learn to take control of the situation, and do what is best for me. Take a break from a disagreement and come back to it later, even if he/she doesn’t want to. It almost always works out best for the situation going forward.

o Take a stand. Loud and witty does not mean a good or accurate point is being made, it doesn’t even mean that person is right—they just know how to sound “right.” Stick to your guns.

o Most of us are a like. Those of us who pontificate about being such unique exceptions to basic social behaviors, habits and reactions, are almost always no different. We are not as special as we think.

o I’m stronger than I thought I was.

o Follow your own path. Make your own mistakes. No one comes with step by step instructions on how to be handled, loved or scrutinized, but none of us are blank canvases. You know where you have come from, where you want to go, what your breaking and healing points are—don’t abandon that.

o If it’s not you, it’s someone else.

Anthony Sowell And The Death Penalty

2011-07-13T11:36:00.001-04:00

If you know me, you know I am not fond of the death penalty. The death penalty is a vengeful act masking itself as justice. “Justice” is a subjective term and what may be just to me may be unnecessary to someone else. Nonetheless, we live in a nation—and world believing that death is justice under certain circumstances.

I don’t believe heinous, violent people who target innocent people for personal satisfaction or evil should walk around with the rest of us. People who have the propensity to commit violent crimes make us all feel unsafe, so I never feel TOO badly when violent career criminals go to jail for a long time. I have gripes and complaints about how the justice system ~~doesn’t~~ works, but for crimes like rape, child molestation and serial murder I have little empathy.

People who don’t live in Cleveland may not be familiar with Anthony Sowell. Anthony Sowell is a man accused and on trial for luring (black) women to his house, raping, killing and stowing their bodies in and around his house on Imperial avenue. These women had been missing for months, and some for years, some even unreported. It was a gruesome discovery that shook up the city and highlighted the disposability of black women. Sowell is now on trial , and if he is found guilty he will receive the death penalty. It seems like a pretty just punishment for such hateful, heartless behavior.

A month ago, in an effort to keep up with the case, I read that the families of the women who were murdered would be satisfied with a plea deal offered to Sowell. This deal would have taken the death penalty off the table, but also spared them from a public trial that would reopen wounds that they would have to relive. The prosecution did not bend despite a petition that was sent stating, "The death penalty for Anthony Sowell is not necessary, or even desirable, in comparison to the grief we families will continue to suffer under the realities and uncertainties of the criminal justice system."

Bill Mason, the county prosecutor says, he wants the death penalty, which he will more than likely get now that Sowell is on trial.

In no way do I feel sorry for Anthony Sowell, whether death or life in jail, it doesn’t bring back those lives or undo the hurt he caused—what’s done is done. I don’t feel any safer knowing he is behind bars or dead. I am sure there are other serial killers being born or who have yet to be discovered. Evil does exist in this realm, and I have yet to find a quick fix against it. Peace and love will hopefully triumph one day.

The families of the Imperial street women don’t believe death is justice, and I believe their opinions and feelings should hold weight. If Bill Mason wants justice, who is he getting justice for? Maybe the rest of us? Maybe the deceased women? Either way, when people die, we are left to suffer their absence. I don’t know if we suffer in death, but we certainly suffer in life and justice should also be about easing suffering and reducing pain. There are times when I am a proponent of an eye for an eye, and even though the law is the law and the “proper” channels have to be navigated, sometimes justice does not prevail.

Lisa Stansfield

2011-07-12T13:37:00.001-04:00

I'm a fan. I listen to a lot of music, and I am not a true fan of a lot of artists I listen to, but I am a fan of Lisa Stansfield. My MP3 was randomly playing Lisa, so I'll share a few of my favorite songs.

This wasn't my favorite album, but I love the song...

Strength and Love...

Marcus Carter

2011-07-11T12:11:00.002-04:00

Marcus Carter, a Black man, is the VP of an organization called, Former Majority Association For Equality. It is an organization that gives scholarships to White males. I watched Don Lemon interview Marcus and Colby Bohannan, who is the President of the organization. Marcus robotically stumbled through his defense, confusing Mexican as a synonym for “Hispanic,” although he quickly recovered that faux pas.

I had difficulty watching the grueling five minutes of video, but my curiosity for controversy and yes, stupidity, ushered me to the end of the video. Of course, I’d like to make some points:

1. Marcus Carter says that his friends and family are overall supportive of his decision as a backer of this organization: I doubt it, Marcus, unless they are as fucking nuts as you are, but damn, you came from somewhere.

2. Most people are responding positively to this scholarship, Carter says, 80-20. That’s weird, you MUST be polling the Tea Party, Black men and women who share your philosophy and conservative White folk who believe whites have become the minority since Obama has been in office.

3. It’s not Africans Americans.

4. Colby, yes, you specifically asked Marcus Carter to join your organization as VP no less, because he is black—and he is naive enough to say, yes. Very unimaginative.

5. And, YES, the name of the organization is completely antagonistic. Former Majority Association? It’s a response to Whites feeling they are not in power anymore. You get ONE Black president and some White people think their agenda disappears—clearly that’s not the case. White men, there is no need to fear, because you still get paid higher than black people, you still get more respect and accommodations than black people and you are still voted the LEAST likely to get discriminated against. Congratulations.

This Month's Cliff Notes...

2011-06-29T13:46:00.002-04:00

I’ve actually been doubling as a photographer and blogger while making moves to relocate in August. Needless to say, I’ve been more of a photographer and less of a blogger. Maybe you’ve noticed.

There have been so many things I have wanted to blog about in the past month, so I’ll save you all some reading and give you some cliff notes:

You may be a racist…

1. Being white and growing up with black people does not make you an honorary black person. I don’t know where people get that shit from. As such, being white and having only black friends doesn’t make you using the terms, “my nigga,” “my nig,” “dis nigga right here,” and any other variation of the word, “nigger” OK. If your friends are cool with it, dope, but tread light and probably not at all when you venture outside of your circle. We’re not really that evolved yet.

2. White people: Asking a black person at your job if they have ever heard of or listen to some mainstream rapper, goes under the umbrella of “asshole” and “racist.” We’re not “homies.” I’m not your “homeboy” or your “homegirl.” You never ask your fellow white co-workers if they have picked up the new Snoop Dogg, so why would you assume I did? Black people are not as one dimensional as you’d like to believe. And yes, I did pick up the new Snoop Dogg album—bitch.

You may be going to hell…

1. Eddie Long settled his law suit out of court. Please don’t act like you’re surprised. Pastors, preachers and priest can and will engage in pulpit pimpery. People get ganked for their paychecks every Sunday without questioning where and how their money is spent. We trust our pastors because their oratorical sermons are magical and give us hope. But they’re human, and as much as we’d like to believe that they are disciplined from their “worldly” desires and humbled by a higher authority, sometimes they’re not. Sometimes they’re fraudulent. Sometimes they’re shopping your sons (and daughters) for their own personal pleasure. Settlements are not always indicative of guilt, but Eddie? We’re on to you!

2. It’s been said before, but in the spirit of Eddie Long’s expensive suits and his, probably very expensive hair-piece, made from only the finest of sheep ass wool, I have to address mega churches: I’ve never understood the need to have such large churches. Logically, I get it, you want to reach more people, you want to accommodate those people who want to support your agenda or ministry. I grew up in relatively small church. My pastor knew everyone by name. He drove the same red Oldsmobile to church until he died. He lived in the same house in the hood until he died. When he started losing his hair, he didn’t wear a toupee (I’m just hatin’ now). All money that came into the church, went to the church. His relationship with god humbled him.

I understand every Pastor can’t be like my pastor (and I still call him my pastor although I am far removed from any church). Some men and women take on their ministry as a full time gig and are allotted a salary like any other professional. I guess that’s cool. But I think to be paid by your church to the tune of acquiring private jets, mansions, thousand dollar suits, expensive jewelry, and expensive cars is gluttonous. And I don’t care what TD Jakes says, you may get thousands of dollars for speaking engagements, TV show appearances and book signings, and you may file that under “god seeing fit to bless me,” but it epitomizes greed and over consumption. You’re sure that’s a good look? Well, praise god.

Shit, maybe I didn’t save you any reading.

She’s Never Too Old

2011-05-25T13:16:00.001-04:00

Love is not mature

She doesn’t follow the rules.

She’s an ageless bitch

dancing about selfishly

in heels and no promises.

C.L. Jones

Unwrapped

The Men's Section

Before I Forget...

Bitches Ain’t Shit: The Manifesto

Forever

We should have sex

What's on your mind...

Patchwork Beauty

Random Considerations While Vacationing

Photos from Vacation

Finding Quiet

Fair Change

Crawling

Why we never made love

I fucked you with urgency Because You loved me like you were leaving. My heart never adjustedto the rhythmof your never-endinggoodbyes. C.L. Jones

Revision...

One of my Favorite...

Woman Warrior

No Strings

Coming Out--Again.

What you say...

2012 evolution.

Re:Building: Killing The Victim

The Truth Is...

Oh, Sharon! Privacy is not private!

the finish line

8 things I learned last month:

The Life Myth

Finding A Resolution

Sunday Mornings

Around this time in ‘78

The Things I Can’t Write About

Considerations While Growing

More Than A Season

Let’s Try Something New

Friendship Cliff Notes

Jesus Camp

New Blog

Quote Of The Day

In This Moment

Ramadan

That Thing

Amy Winehouse: Rest In Peace

New Tattoo?

Charmed

Don’t say I didn’t tell you so…

Anthony Sowell And The Death Penalty

Lisa Stansfield

Marcus Carter

This Month's Cliff Notes...

She’s Never Too Old

I fucked you with urgency
Because
You loved me
like you were leaving.
My heart never adjusted
to the rhythm
of your never-ending
goodbyes.

C.L. Jones