Now How RANDOM is That?

Love....to me....

2010-03-09T17:28:00.003-05:00

“Love is the label that never goes out of style”

Not only did Carrie Bradshaw utter these words to close out “Sex and the City” but they double as the bittersweet truth of this timeless interaction between human beings that we call love. Whether we try to marginalize love into some corner of the mind until we think we are ready to address its impact, or lack there of, love makes its presence known and doesn’t allow for time to wrinkle its face. Basically-love-is-a-bad-bitch and refuses to be upstaged!!

I am usually the confidant friend and can be found at any hour of the day fixing other peoples relationship issues and constantly wringing out the shoulder area of my garments due to an excess of soaked up teardrops. Thus has been my role since I was a youngster and I have grown quite comfortable, on the set of life, in that role, or so I thought. Clearly love doesn’t wear a watch because, contrary to popular belief, her ETA cannot be determined by her nor you.

I am a victim of love. Period. I’ve been usurped from my throne as the world’s most self-sufficient single in a matter of seconds and for some reason I didn’t mind the decline. Everything crumbled under the hand of love but it was the sweetest disassembling I could have wished for. It’s amazing the amount of positive damage she causes without even announcing herself. Such a complex energy breaks us all down to the simplest form but never solves for “x”-Love.

My Scariest Friend

2010-03-03T03:57:00.005-05:00

There is someone in my life who inspires me to do many things: write, sing, dance, cry etc. But she doesn't even know she has that effect on me. I thought I would take this time out to let her know because tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Although we grew up together, I have always kept my distance from her; just a part of me that I would never let her love for me, or humanity in general, penetrate for fear of being totally overcome by her passion to love unconditionally. She has one of those gentle souls that, in conversation, will make you feel light as a feather and so oblivious to the reality of things that you almost forget your age. There is an innocence in her tone that draws you in like an insect to light. For those, like me, who are cognizant of this child-like power of attraction, shy away from it in fear that your response will taint the moment.

******

Did I mention homegirl is gorgeous? Like for real ya'll. Im sure she turns many heads on the streets on NY with her unique sense of fashion and mystique comparable to that of Zora Neale Hurston.

(Okay back on track) The reason why I say she is my scariest friend has much to do with her ability to disrobe me; there has never been a time of my life where I've been able to hide behind any manner of fallaciousness in her presence. She has the most piercing gaze. The type of gaze that God intended for women to inflict on men to keep us on the straight path. She makes you speak the truth even when you think you are functioning well in a fictional life. Now of course she has her flaws and issues but her transparency frees surface level human beings of the impulse to judge. I know you are probably sitting there asking yourself "Is she really all she is cracked up to be?"....How about you ask yourself "Is my personality not worthy to be written of?" and "Why not?".

But to answer your ignorant question, "YES" she is that much!! She has an air about her that makes you filter your words of all absurdities, clichés and overall BS in order to avoid waisting her time. Even her jokes are filled with intelligence and poise; they make you laugh and go into introspection, searching through your own life to find out the subject of ridicule is present. Now thats talent!!!

I would say more but I dont feel like I have to. I affectionately call her Q.....But you can just call her my scariest friend!!!

Loss of Life

2010-02-18T15:01:00.004-05:00

I recently engaged a good friend in a convo concerning his life, or lack there of, and I came to a stunning conclusion......So many of us are living DEAD. We wake up without zeal or a driving force towards something that may forfeit peace. Not happiness but PEACE. So many of us use the blanket statement "I just want to be happy." No one can honestly STAY happy. Happiness is a conditional, situational emotion which fades with ever-changing circumstances. As with any other high, happiness is the high we seek for the purpose of being high; a clear sign that one has become an addict. Find your REHAB!!

to be continued......

Anonymous Submission

2010-02-13T21:31:00.003-05:00

I read a poem written by one of my friends and under the condition I leave her name out, she allowed me to post it!!!

I live for you

When I look at you I see you dead.
A dead sea of blackness from head to toe.
And the envy of men from toe to head.
But nonetheless I see you. Dead.
Carved from the clay of Ethiopian kings
And fashioned to my liking.
You make me feel like birthdays and sunday mornings and a father after childbirth.
But nonetheless I see you dead!
If I could pick you apart I would.
And save pieces of you as momentos in a secret place.
I would tell myself about you over time
And the story would last FOREVER,
However I see you dead.
But. nonetheless.
I LIVE for you!

The Love of Fiction

2009-12-02T10:11:00.008-05:00

It’s amazing how in life we fall in love with fiction. From the time we are children we are bombarded with fairytales, myths, legends, cartoons, illegitimate history lessons etc. So it comes as no surprise that we are lovers of fiction; so much so that we take situations, voids and the need for truth and "non-fiction" in our lives and replace it with fiction......

Those of us who believe in God often say, "God is love and love is real" right? Here’s is my question, If love is so real and its validity is based in 'God', then why is it so hard to love someone else? Furthermore, why can't people recognize love when it runs up and drop kicks them in the face? I have concluded that love has also been infiltrated by fiction.

People seem to think that love is expressed through material things, physical intimacy and long walks on the beach. However, I wish to contend this wide spread notion and attempt to institute a little non-fiction into the social definition of love. Love corrects you. If you are doing something wrong, pointless, stupid, harmful, out of character etc., it is the RESPONSIBILITY of the person who says they love you to point it out and assist in your correction PROCESS. Love is a two-way street; which makes you as responsible as the one that loves you to head the correction and out of love for yourself and the person make the necessary adjustments.

Love doesn't want to see you messed up! If someone loves you then they want to see you at your absolute best. For example: if you habitually smoke cigarettes, someone who loves you will try their very best to get you to stop. Some may even go as far to hold the relationship as a bargaining piece to catalyst your change; reason being, the relationship is an enitity of great value and most people change dramatically when they fear losing something of value or when the activity in question can INSTANTLY harm them. Don't get that confused with ultimatums!

Love is based in principle NOT feeling. Feelings are as natural as breathing but in order to really love someone you must be a little supernatural. If the ones you love (and love you) have little to no standards and principles, trust and believe your relationship, platonic or romantic, is doomed to failure. If the person is not going to MAKE you better then its no point in being with them. POINT, BLANK, PERIOD! You can bring your own life to shambles and be complacent by yourself.

Love deals only with the TRUTH of things. If someone loves you they will live the truth. There is no reason to verbally reiterate the truth if its being carried out on a day to day basis. If two people deal with the truth of things and make the necessary changes within themselves it can only better the relationship There must be one common goal! Loves changes you! If you have not changed after experiencing real love then you are the devil or something like him. I can say this with full confidence because..... well, I've been changed by love.

I think I have injected enough non-fiction into the fictional world of love for today. Maybe one day I will receive the love I put out.....Until then I will be reading science fiction (that has to be less painful)

KARMA IS.....

2009-05-09T17:01:00.003-04:00

Karma is a bad bitch!!!! She doesn’t show her face until she is summoned by some deed (good or bad) but when she shows up she handles business and she leaves without a trace. I was fortunate enough to meet her yesterday when she came into my job. Here goes the ordeal…

Me- “My insecurities always lead me to believe that someone, something or some force is out to utterly destroy me one way or another. So naturally I approach relationships and all matters of the heart with extreme caution; I actually have six bloodthirsty pit bulls, the guy from x-men origins that shoots with extreme accuracy, the ghost of Bruce lee and the vanguard legion of the Black Panther Party guarding the perimeter around my heart. Recently, I decided to let my guard down just long enough to let someone hop the fence and cleared them with my security with all intentions of pursuing a solidified relationship. However, I also made the conscious decision to keep my ‘side pieces’ just in case things don’t work out in favor of the preferred relationship. Call me selfish but that’s the only way for me to still keep myself safe while testing the waters of monogamy. And before you really jump off the deep end and call me all types of names just know that I am NOT physically involved with the ‘side pieces’ .”

Karma-“You are a fucking LIAR!!!! “

And then she walked out.

As far as I knew, I was having a heart-to-heart convo with Karma and she would respect my “honesty”. Furthermore I thought Karma to be the one who would recognize the good in my decision and hold me down off G.P. Right? WRRRROONNNNNGGGGGG!!!! Karma is heartless. In order to fulfill her duties she must be void of human emotion and totally disconnected from the perceptions of individuals. She is intermediate and ruler of the space and time between action and reaction and she governs with an iron fist. With one sentence she made me a subject in her kingdom and forced me realize her limitless power.

I was forced to realize that I had, in fact, been habitually lying to myself. I kept “side pieces” because I wanted to have my cake and eat it to. Rather than let Karma handle any spousal injustices imposed upon me, I tried to intercept Karma and alleviate her of her duty in my life by justifying my extra-curricular activities by rendering them void of “physicalities”. The sad part consisted of me actually believing myself and whole-heartedly tried to convince other people that is was okay.

Karma is fearless. You know that fear has taken over you or a aspect of you, when you conjure up a scheme to avoid it and then convince yourself and others that the reason why you have such a reactionary scheme is some sort of good-for-life principle that you stand on. If fear can make you lie then it will make you steal- rob yourself of the energy it takes to over come it, steal productive time that could be used to build with your spouse and rob you of the fighting chance to actually have a healthy relationship. And if you steal you will kill- kill your own spirit of genuine love, kill the chance for your partner to really have all of you and vice versa and ultimate kill the living/thriving parts of your relationship. Committing love crimes!!!

Karma is real. All hail the queen.

The 80's.......

2009-03-12T15:58:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I wish I was white so I can run through countries and rape them for their resources. We see you Reagan!!! And put the resources to good use like building a seperate colony of concetration camps to store minorities in when I turn the armed forces against them. So I can commission the miniorites, whose souls I've captured, to build walkways large enough to ride tanks through. So I can ride tanks through them. And destroy daydreams of days when walkways were only wide enough for shoppingcarts and baby strollers. The plan is in motion just read the 80's!!
And remind children of the days when the wop represented freedom of expression and kid and play were the torch bearers of creative movement. When 6" stilletto heels meant uncomfortable periods of time and the promise of back problems in later years. When people realized that Moses civilized the caucasian who could not wear high heels in their early days if they felt like it. Hunched over. When my stepfather wore a light blue suit to rally for niggaz that couldn't realize the message behind the music. Fight the POWER!! When public enemy took its platform from the Nation of Islam and Flava flav really knew what time it was. When blunt cut bobs were ridiculed in the streets of ghettos and never looked upon as coutoure. Or when people looked to ghettos near and far to define coutoure. The cycle continues!!
I'm talking abouit a time when furry kangols and adidas rocked concrete jungles like I rock this keyboard and Prince made the beautiful ones look like victims. Where pregnant woman wore dingy, airbrushed tweety bird t-shirts and multi colored spandex to do their laundry in laundromats where Ms. Pac man was the highlight of the experience. Imma beat your high score niggaaaaaaa!!!! The 80's

SWEET DREAMS......

2009-02-20T10:22:00.013-05:00

Since I was young, the sporadic occurrence of dreams have held my interest; Not because they are events worth watching but more so WHY these particular events are streaming through my subconscious and why they are only possible to witness when you are asleep. Furthermore, how you can stay sleep with an NBC-prime time-amount-of-drama flooding your brain. Here goes last night's dream......

My mother and I were driving into Huger, South Carolina to visit our very countrified family members who just received street lights to illuminate their roads like 5 years ago.When we pull up to my aunt's house, what I remembered to be a quite lavish southern home with 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms, my jaw dropped at the sight before me; A one bedroom gray and white shack. The paint was clearly worn by inclimate weather and the shutters were hanging on by the grace of Christ. There was no glass in the windows and there was no door but somehow I could hear no sound from within nor could I see inside. I reluctantly dismounted the car first and as soon as I closed the door my mother pulled off and left me standing there.

Now you may be asking yourself " Why would she leave if she came to visit too?" My answer "Who the hell knows, this is a damn dream."

I approached the door frame with more confidence than I thought I possessed at the moment and tried to see inside. The operative word here is "tried"; There was only intense blackness in the door frame but still no sound. I'd never seen a hue of black so dark yet inviting/familiar all at once. Fear nor caution had settled on my heart until this point. I was not fearful of the endless possibilities of what may lie beyond the blackness but fearful of that fact that I didn't have ANY fear. So I stepped in........

I tried to walk forward but my feet were stuck or better yet I didn't have feet; My legs were stuck together, my arms crossed over my chest and my head was the only part of me that had its normal range of motion in tact. Rather than go absolutely nuts like I was forced into a straight jacket for a surgery that wasn't meant for me, I listened. i figured this must be the womb or something so i played along waiting for sound. Imagine you were underwater trying to hear a conversation going on poolside. IMPOSSIBLE right? WRONG. I could hear my mother talking about me to a few of my family members about how I was going to be this smart and talented individual when I grew up as though she was pregnant with me. At this point I got restless, wrestled with my limbs and finally fell out onto the other side of the door frame. To my surprise, the interior of the house looked exactly like that the house in New York that I grew up in.

I panned around the kitchen and came back out to the living room where I noticed a gleam of sunlight which was now a phenom in this place where it had not existed for what seemed like the last fifteen minutes. The sunlight drew me in as did the darkness but this time it alluded to danger. Just as I was about to walk out the door a man steps into the house. He did not go "through" the darkness, restricted limbs, emotional catalyst like the sound of a familiar voice in an unfamiliar place, did not pass go or collect 200 dollars. He just walked in. This was not just any man, it was actually one of my roommates. We looked at each and pulled out guns on each other. Sidebar- I still can not figure out when MY gun came into the picture or why my roommate was trying to kill me but oh well.... I shot first because I knew he had intended to take me out. Two bullets to the chest and one to the shoulder. He let off one right through my heart and we both lay there on the floor dying or what I perceived to be dying. After I knew he was dead, I stood up, walked out the house and got into the car with my mother. The wound was there but I wasn't bleeding and I felt no pain.

WWWWWWTTTTTTTTTFFFFFFFFFfFF!!!!!!!!!

FIN!

The Beautiful Ones......

2009-02-15T22:09:00.013-05:00

Why do the beautiful people of the world have it the absolute hardest in relationships (platonic and romantic)? What have we done except be born of a woman like everyone else? Why must good looks be a curse on the innocent?

So I am walking through Phipps Plaza Mall on Friday trying to locate my high end purchase of the season and a mildly attractive young woman taps me on the shoulder and asks "Where did you get that sweater? My boyfriend has been looking for a cardigan just like that for the longest." (Sweater- Lacoste, lemon Yellow, 6-button cardigan with turn-back cuffs) I responded "It was a gift so I don't know where it was purchased but you can probably find something similar at the Lacoste store in Lenox or in Nordstrom." Before the "m" sound in Nordstrom left my lips,her friend, an awkward looking woman draped in a sub par sweatsuit of the ugliest shade of green, interjects with "you probably get whatever you want from whoever you want. Just a fine ass heart breaker". WHHHHHOOOOAAAAAA!!!! NELLY!! OMG!!! Call CNN, The National Guard and Oprah because Leader and Matriarch of the kingdom of the Assumption People has reappeared in Phipps Plaza Mall. Naturally I looked at her like she was from Krypton and inquired as to why she would make such an accusation. Here goes the rationale:

"Well most people who look the way you do have it easier in life:light skinned, well built, attractive, well spoken, well dressed. Its just not fair to other people who don't have all that in one person."

The amount of anger building up in me should have been charted and investigated by the Guinness Book of World Records but nonetheless I digested what the woman said and did a quick wooooo saaaaaahhhhh!!!

Not only am I NOT a heart breaker but i don't even take into consideration the aforementioned accolades. You know WHHHHHAAAAATTTTTTTT..... I'm not even explaining myself. It is what itis. Prince says it best.

http://www.livevideo.com/video/9909982ABCC74768B95048B0863C4B06/prince-beautiful-one-.aspx

Friends..................

2008-07-18T18:15:00.020-04:00

I want everyone to take the time out to think of the day you met your best friend. Think of the similarities you shared with him/her and the differences which made you unique. Think of the overwhelming consensus amongst the other 'hood kids that ya'll would be friends FOREVER.
Well today I learned that forever is conditional.

******

Today, my friend of five years, decides that he is going to take our happy-go-lucky joyride to pay the Georgia Power bill and turn it into an emotional matter of epic proportions aka a "keep it real session" . Now granted, being the leader and co-founder of the Justice League of Super Realists has prepared me to deal with the intense amounts of human stupidity, jealousy, envy and the aforementioned "sessions" outside of my immediate circle. However, when those that are close to me decide they are going to crawl into their custom-made cubby spaces, covered by decoy bricks, in my well constructed Great Wall of China around my heart with a "tell em' how you really feel" bomb strapped to them then it becomes an issue. The part that really blindsided me was the onset of the whole agruement; I asked if he could stop by the liqour store (which was across the street from the gas station where we were perched, not pumping gas, just PERCHED!!!) He continuously refuses to take me to the liquor store and proceeds to label my slight drinking Handling Alcohol Before It Takes-over-my-life as "stupid shit". Okay! Fine! I can live with the fact of friends not facilitating the potentially detrimental habits of other friends but don't transform into Optimus Prime and go completely beast mode in an attempt to blemish my character and label me a person bent upon doing as much "stupid shit" as the next brother. Let us keep in mind that this is the same person that stopped at a gas station, with gas money that I provided, for five minutes and then decides to negate the gas adventure and "take it on to the house" (as though gas is 22 cents per gallon and won't go up in a literal blink-of-an-eye) For those of you who are wondering, YES! he's BLACK!!

Somehow, the tornado from The Wiz came through, swept me up and threw me down on the Autobahn of generalized judgmental comments (that's a blatant contradiction, but stay with me here cuz the bus is rollin') which I could not prepare myself for. All of a sudden my friend and confidant starts molliwopping me with "you think you better than other niggas" and " your stupid shit aint better than other niggas stupid shit" type rhetoric. Let's stop the Eastbound 107 Glenwood Marta bus for a brief moment and dive into the life of P. E. Williams-----Anyone that knows me can assure you that I facilitate as little stupid shit as possible; I have always been a pretty sensible guy and a source of advice and strength for ALL my friends. No one on earth can say I am ill-intended in my comments (unless they deserve it) and I've never had underlying feelings about my close friends which I allowed to linger. I say these things not to brag but rather to give you a glimpse into the type of dude I am. Okay children, get back on the bus!!!

As my head stopped spinning , I tried to figure out what sparked "my friend" to say such harsh things to me as though I loom my socially viewed " better than average attributes" over his head like some crown I'm challenging him to grow tall enough to wear. (Dear Ole' Morehouse). And furthermore, how am I supposed to view him beyond the BP gas station fiasco, where my uprooting and landing took place. (Why couldn't I have landed at the liquor store?) This is the same guy that I taught how to drive when no one else would let them near their cars, the same guy who I prepare tag-team edible masterpieces with on a daily basis, the saaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmmmeee guy who I embarked on my "healthy living" diet with. In a nutshell, this is MY FRIEND. Today my feelings got hurt. Today the shutdown process begins. Watch your friends because in the end they can be worse than the viewing public.

It's ceases to amaze me how people can lead a double life as friends and cameleons. If I would have known that this is the way my cherished friendship would end up would I have even bothered coming around the corner of my freshman dorm everyday to see what MY FRIEND was doing? To make sure he was 'aiight'?

In the words on Timon (The Lion King) "You think you know a guy".

Marta Chronicles: Episode 1-- "Here I come to save the GAY" (In the Mighty Mouse Voice)

2008-06-25T17:08:00.017-04:00

Anyone one that knows me can testify to my unmatched ability to find bargains in the most inconceivable and somewhat expensive boutiques and "regular stores". And if there is no human being present to provide a suitable tale of my fabulous purchases under 100 bucks then my newest find, a slim fit, high 3-button trench coat with black and white hounds-tooth lining, originally priced at 300 smackeroos but stolen from the fashion gods for a mere 69, should do the trick. Now that's a sexy situation!!!

At the Lenox Station platform, I became antsy about all the looks I could create with my new jamee. There was absolutely no seating so I was forced to lean against a concrete pillar. (I just could not fathom trying to astro-project and basque in the land of orgasmic purchases[my closet] all the while standing straight up in full consciousness.) As I descended from the last cloud-step and bid farewell to Andre (that's my mystical fashion midget) I was fortunate to catch the tailend of a seemingly fulfilling conversation between my fellow MARTA riders: A flamboyant gay man and a well dressed middle aged woman.......

Woman: I can't wait to get back home on get back on my Serta. I love her!! (chuckles) I am not a morning person by any means.

Gay: Giiiirrrllllll!!!!! I am the utter and complete vice verse honey! I have to be in the bed by 10 o'clock cuz I can't stay up all night. But I will morning you DOWN!!

At the conclusion of the convo, me and those who were within earshot, homed in on and were forced to deal with the arrangement of words/apparent colloquialisms which in all their glory falls under the pink and lavender, patent leather umbrella of the GAY LINGO!!! Now had this been two women engaged in this convo then the word choice may have blown over more easily however, with the given characters a feeling of helpless exposure and forced knowledge of the unknown took over me. (Feeling= When you walk in on your older brother watching a porn with his friends and in order to prevent you from snitching they let you watch. However, in the following days you must still act as though you know nothing thing of 'hot passionate relations' while in the company of adults who may try to cover your ears when the topic comes up.) For some strange reason like human nature, sheer noziness or the fact that it was void of homosexual-sexual allusions, I yearned for more of this comical language. Like a telepathical genie or some ish, Mr. Gay delivers..........

Gay: I don't LIVE for the nightlife in Atlanta because it will suck you in and never let you out. I have seen it happen to damn near all my friends. Call me boring or wack or LATE or what-have-you but I won't be subdued.

Just when I thought I had English 101 down-packed, here comes Titania, Queen of the Fairies (Shakespeare), to floor my scholarship and beat it to death with a five-inch pump. Rather than be disgusted by his blatant identification with femininity, I chose to take a scholarly approach in my analysis of his use of rhetoric. He could have simply stated that he "doesn't like to go out and party" or " call me old fashioned" but what type of dudish, lackluster sentence would that have been. Rather than hold a pointless and mundane conversation removed from onomatopoeias, lively adverbs and memorable adjectives, our little "happy" friend decided to spice up his convo for the enjoyment of conversers and eavesdroppers alike.

As a student of the English language, I am now forced to fine tune my writing skills; not because some random guy on the train wha-za-za-zooped my tuition-paying ass in 5 sentences but because he made me realize that if you take the smallest aspects of your craft for granted and neglect mastery of said aspects, they could very well be the key to your demise and/or undoing once you have climbed the ladder of "apparent success".

-P. E. Williams