Where I'm From

* I mean, who reaches out to a childhood connection "as a woman", heartbroken and dressed like a turn-off with no plan or action to ever cross the line although 
They just had to...

• A bored husband
• A teacher with illicit lessons on his mind
• Domination by a drug habit demon combined with refusal of a divorce request
• Youth and would-be business persons with something other than their own merit to show & prove the third-to-last straw of her boyfriend's "she's just a friend" threatens her back; heard another gentleman

It is a sad truth of nature that weak or otherwise dis-eased beings are likely to perish and, in doing so, may contribute to the same in another. Put another way, steps and mindsets inclined to trip or make then take a 'joke' too far threaten the tribe-at-large. The inability or decision not to discern that line of demarcation is a sign of grave immaturity if not youth, although it was written that childlike innocence is indeed a leadership quality. On Friday, an adolescent male in the infamous Rutgers University cyberbullying case was convicted for his part in an arguably malicious prank that led to the harm and suicide of his former roommate. Not knowing "how to deal" with the now deceased victim's lifestyle (or, more likely, his own confusion and craving for attention) is one motive of the culprit's defense. suitor mention being a father uninvolved with the child's mother who approvingly knew of our relationship but listened to herself when walking to 
Given the digital extent to which the misery of his unknown weaknesses went for company in viewing and chiding the deceased, who knows what other forms of entrapment he tried? In a song by Rachelle Ferrell, she described her father as one who often consciously "[preened] his pride and [pruned hers]". Young Mr. Ravi made the choice to gamble deceptively with people's lives, namely via attempts to wield judgment as if a perfect God alone. While attempting to destroy a reputation with collegiate gay humiliation, he was successful in creating one for himself as a green card hooligan. Blemishes to immigration rights seldom sit well with a first-generation daughter like me. Be that as it may, a jury found Ravi adult enough for a bias crime conviction, which could carry a $10,000 fine and deportation to his native India.
the woman's door to peacefully introduce herself and make sure all was indeed well, offering an on-the-spot end with no sweat to any of us; or subdues her own 

On demand, I followed the impulse to watch the aptly titled HBO short film, "Saving Face". The italicized scenarios above allegedly justified rampant acts of acid abuse against Pakistani women and disgusted me even moreso than the New Jersey case's manipulations. In one instance, after a woman's husband attacked her with the caustic substance, her sister-in-law then chose to add gasoline to the deadly cocktail; the fact that she could just as easily have suffered such an injustice on the mere grounds of being born her gender notwithstanding.

The interviewed male assailants and their supporters saw no wrong in their actions, if they owned those actions at all. Allegations of female infidelity followed by answers of "what happened, happened" when asked about their own indiscretions were the closest any came to culpability in a sea of unimaginative blame. All the women were said to have "high blood pressure", getting confused and emotional before dousing themselves with gas near an open flame. The women worth their positive opinion were reported as being "out there doing the good work" of "[cutting] the nose off the world". That statement's advocacy of either eliminating the sensual nature of humanity or the cultural surgery of those who once visited the Sphinx and other African structures in upset struck me.

Sadly enough, I guess the latter portion was as natural coming from a brown man as any woman who would consciously and unduly help a man abuse another woman. To a degree, every aberration is. And the menstrual cycle is lunacy. And a woman's best friends are lipstick and shoes whereas materialism, overconfidence, bickering and scheming are to be expected. And every man deserves to have as many cliteridectomized, sutured 'pure' women at his disposal as he can afford. And yes, this paragraph is sarcastic, so clarified as to highlight to absurdity of some of our ways and to quell unwarranted judgment. My darlings, let's reset plans. You don't have to shove me into any water, either. I am grateful for the facility to take a refreshing shower once I post this and the subject matter's been deep since time immemorial.

sadness to tell the new strange woman her man has disappeared with to enjoy playing with the boys? About a decade ago, I did. 

Earlier in the week, a good friend engaged me in a conversation that started on the topic of our respective flaws. Although our romantic involvement has long since passed, our friendship for years now continues to transcend relationships and convention. By request, I reflected with him on what was his power-loving sense of entitlement, veiled by a composed nature that moved into a manner that could be considered too bold without notice. His protective side told me what to watch out for next and we laughingly recalled the selective but searing temper and icy male distrust of my younger years. Having known my share of abused women or dysfunction of some sort first-hand even prior to my first kiss ever, disappointment and fear dictated that it would never be me. Surely that portion of my story is much like many other women's. By no means did I rush into relationships and sex or hurt and "play" men as a result nor do I believe doing so makes a woman strong. However, considering with disdain women who got handled or saw to the improper handling of another has its own reflux-prone pathology in need of healing where it lives.

Before and after Steve Harvey's blockbuster, I have been a lady who often thought of, if not like, a lifetime of men in my family, church, community and those who would eventually touch my heart. Ages prior still, philosopher Lao Tzu was credited with teaching the importance of 'knowing the male but keeping the female'. Certainly neither of them were the first to embody and share that sentiment. If giving my everything or what I could to an individual was met with the second, maybe third, sign of foolishness, any tears were deeply felt then effortlessly followed by a sometimes self-preserving chuckle, having fully owned or apologized for whatever good or bad was mine* and realized the time to move in a new direction from 'then'.  Funny thing is, like the one pregnant acid victim in "Saving Face" who wished she was bearing a boy unlikely to suffer the same injustices, receiving the dude-cool banner was supposed to be an improvement on the female form God saw fit to give me. The more wisdom and grace I was given over time, the less of compliment that was.
Sure, the door lady's "ok" proved short-lived when she saw us too happy. Also, I guess it served me right right for trying to make it stress-free for someone who 
Whether beating boys in races, dancing on undergrad stages, spraining a finger playing football (not my best game), grooming loved ones, twisting limbs out of socket attempting some acrobatic feat of solo mischief in the narthex when I should have been seated in the main sanctuary or climbing fences forward, I've embraced every nuance of my own femininity and appreciated that which is complementary. Any egoic reach beyond one's rightful portion, the underlying cause of all the would-be benefits and schtick, is no laughing matter as they lead to a deeply rooted self-hatred designed to bear the fruit of hating another in turn. Branching out from such a place is the Iscariot's lot. On a higher octave, there is yet Love for Judas.

So long as they continue to heed the whisper of the Most High, the sun and moon will all-ways know how, when to rise and set. Neither tries to play some extra role. As such, this woman continues to believe wholeheartedly in a respectful flow between Divine>male>female beings and both genders' respective strengths that don't require the other's detriment or excess. The chat with my friend covered many bases as usual, but the initial encouragement to revisit some of the old territory was therapeutic in reminding me exactly where I need not return and why I champion what causes I do. 

• A brilliant, successful father who was somehow blinded to the fact that beating your eight-month pregnant wife bloody might not be a good idea, especially for the baby
• In an age when most food & drink is treated for longer shelf lives and its appeal to the eye, the words "hysterectomy" and "treatment" should seldom be used affirmatively in the same sentence regarding the common side effects of overgrowth primarily in the female body. This is especially true for our younger ladies who have yet to even think about becoming mothers.
• Some (NOT all) men of any age believe that their equal accountability or sexual fidelity is an option the slightest upset can revoke; one or all paid bills might constitute or replace that upset and serve as license to engage in simultaneous (emotional) relations with anyone else he chooses. He and/or the wo/man whose flame burns hot for him might try to scandalize you in the process whether or not you have taken the high road past such behavior. His, probably their, perception and projection is everything—to him.
• Only a man can keep that man with you; not a falsified or actual child, the dirt you do with or for him nor the impervious exterior that insists it's ok when he hints, much less clearly states, that you can't be his lady. Matching his work and begging/deceiving/fighting/playing victim or evil witch for it are completely different things. The second half is not an option.
• Love as depicted in some movies or books (where true peace, devotion, forgiveness, communication and pleasure eliminate the need for cover-ups and the like) plus the all-weather work that two hours of film or pages can't fulfill is real.

For the justice of innocence, the heart & soul of good women, the honor of good men, the wellness that is everyone's birthright ~ I just have to.
didn't care enough about either of us or do her due diligence to prevent being a jump-off from my relationship; later thinking I owed her an apology for being me, 

I suggested that a 10-year-old mentee watch the short film before we met to attend the Cherry Blossom festival. It was a pleasure to explore some art and facts of our people and then watch her paint and put her hands to a weaving loom and origami as soothing music played. Her work came out beautifully. She was a natural! If not for the lines of little people clamoring for seats at the craft tables and tea ceremony, I would have taken a turn. God sparing Life, I will make my own opportunities for more of the same at a later date.trying oddly and too hard (with help no less) past the freshness date to never get it. Wow ~ the 20s were roaring in my and the country's histories! For anyone 
Afterwards, we had a chance to discuss the day and the film over lunch. Her desire for a pink stuffed baby lion evoked a flash of mixed feelings, a mild joy primarily. What would those days be like when she puts such toys aside for more visceral interests? Between learning more of what life feels like for a girl and a woman's worth, what songs would be her soundtrack? Where will I be at that time and how could or should I help? The present was with us and we with it, so I paid no further mind to those what if's and appreciated her clarity regarding the specific injustices without taking an overall negative stance against men or a world that challenges a walk that follows Christ, in or out of Louboutins. I sipped jasmine tea without sugar or honey as this was the sweetness of Life. Next I've gotta convince her and her parents that there's more to life than chicken nuggets, fries and soda. It'll take as long as it needs to but, God willing, I'll get it done ~ well.who can and will honestly agree that we've come a long way, baby, let us truly thank God for deliverance now & ever.

In Good Taste

Ears after high-decibel exposure, nerves exposed to shifts in the atmosphere, the olfactory sense or the change to our purses are among those that will prove ingestion is so much more than a hand-to-mouth gut thing. All of Life is to be parsed with good reason and seasoning, taken in and then shared for the better. Even in the recent 24-hour sliver between pi's digits and what some history considers the Ides' demons of ill will and murder to name a couple, experience can make us very full. 'Too much' is almost guaranteed by not heeding the signs preceding and just after 'enough'. Contrary to popular belief, however, a pretty righteous redemption can be found in paying closer attention to the necessary details.

These can contain great disagreement or synchronicity, the latter of which is home to both beauty and terror. I'm not talking about the optimization overload the Bing search engine once comically advertised as making sticky batter of our brains, mind you. I just happen to see both, actually all three, words—like you, me or any living being—as facets of God's infinite brilliance. Maybe scientists, priests and artists will return to common ground by taking such logic to heart. Meanwhile, last night, my drum appreciated deep resonance with (related) works of a favorite author/anthropologist by way of some Creative People's Resuscitation.

Paving the way back through the tunnel afterwards were a girl with eyes rose-colored as a recently departed germ, tear or high; sleeping giant with shiny jewelry and no shoes; the handsome faces of two gentleman I didn't bother to greet at length but had no problem taking discreet glimpses at more than a little bit and sneezers with newspapers for napkins who left ominous leaves behind for the accidental adventurer. Once I'd gotten in and eventually decided to blog a bit, the nearest link's quote awaited, saying Go! Figures... and I'm grateful.

Frequent romps in midnight oil have exposed me to many infomercials peddling skin care, coverage of the sacral area that some jeans (and genes) have scrapped to show off, addict-pointed encouragement to seek treatment and a few minutes of Insanity® that don't always seem so crazy. This time, entertainer Debbie Gibson mentions "a wall between worlds" for Children International's sake; this just a week after first listening and mere moments before finally deciding to connect the similarly titled Nujabes song with this post.

Among the suggested video column to the right, his "Aint No Mystery" appeared, bringing back to mind the iconic writer/performer of "The Mystery of Iniquity" and many gems, Ms. Hill. After all, a trough on her public frequency earned its #17 spot amid the 40 most shocking moments in hip-hop being re-broadcast when I returned. For this and the aforementioned Greco-Roman reason, I was not surprised when one of the words prescribed online for today later proved "iniquitous". A few synonyms briefly came to mind forever ago regarding my observation of an ancient, rebellious sport that later engaged "some guy" to regurgitate a lion's share of my early writing pieces fed to him under false pretenses and "read [me]" for not squirming as superfish bait should. The same outlet's suggestion ala Honoré De Balzac contains its own tragi-comedy otherwise. By now, all supporting cast members have learned not to cross or trouble waters they don't understand no'mo.

Regardless, as is the case with details, what exists with/in our intentions and connections need not be devilish or in distress. Einstein is quoted as stating that "[a]ny intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius — and a lot of courage — to move in the opposite direction." Even young pink eyes revealed a smiling glimpse of whitish teeth by the end of the ride, so I know different, healthy types can move under our arches. Paranoia and undue sympathies (or sins) deserve rest. Well-nourished, I digest.

Simple.

In checking my calendar today, a little note appeared informing me that Daylight Saving Time would take place at 2 a.m. on next Sunday, March 11, 2012. However imperfect, there are certainly worse things out there than my memory. I simply don't recall it normally coming so soon, but hey... Life is change, right?! Considering the latter belief, maybe the manipulation of time should be expected. After all, whole nations took a quadrennial leap only a few days ago and, according to the Mayans, people can be born on a Day Out of Time. Even without looking skyward or deep into scholarly tomes, quantum 'space' is occupied by a lot more than what we popularly regard or understand. This is not an existential rant to force an intellectual veneer on the skin invisible to you here. This is just an eye-opener to those gaps that exist in every one of our lives, in the most unassuming ways.

Take the pair of ellipses present in the text so far. In grammar, the three dots of an ellipsis represent a silent space that can hold anything we choose to put in them. Further, the missing content may or may not agree with what pertinent courage we have made visible on the bookends of the statement. Like the parodied (but very enjoyable, thank you) Madonna commercial, they highlight a gap one could fall into unaware. As for the soul and the unknown unseen that affect it, there is one thing that provides a permanent eclipse of "a multitude" and bridges gaps like no other: Love. Fill every space with it and carry on... lighter :)