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I wonder what you see in me…cause sometimes it’s hard for me to believe in me. Imagine having to hear that he said that she said that you could be great. And you sing “Lean on me”, but that type of dependence would probably kill me. Then they’d probably have to “will” me. And I don’t have much to leave, so I’m just going to lean on me while me feeds on the compliments that you just gave me. I’m just conducting introspection on that section of my brain that has me stressing that you’ve moved onto the next thing. Likened to a game where you just next them.
I think back to a time a couple tits removed. I think back to a time minus all the flicks construed; I’m flipping through my archive, “Yea these couple pics will do.” We were all so innocent! Then we all got rid of it. Little babies having precedence, we were only worried about our relevance! But we’re still only focused on our relevance. We pray then put in work and call it heaven-sent. And I need a shower of blessings. Cause I’ve always been worried about being the next best thing to the best thing…or the next best thing to the next thing.
It says pray without ceasing, and I hear the preacher preaching. It’s enlightening. Then I think I’ve found life’s meaning. But I can’t seem to pray without ceasing; I just pray for peace of mind as I see my parents gradually deceasing. And I’m still hearing the preacher preaching. “Amen.” “Hallelujah.” I’m just waiting for it to seep in. Cause it’s funny how someone can give you something to believe in, only to leave you wide-eyed and hopelessly dreaming….
Lately I’ve been thinking that I’m good, cause my palms always been closed to the drugs. I look around and figure that I’m straight; two decades passed still haven’t opted to smash. I’ll be flying out the state to my birthplace, with my family thinking I’m about my work. Public image probably looking kinda sharp, as long as they don’t catch me in my room. They say the world is coming to an end, so I’m eclectic in my ways to pass the time. I use religion as a comfort for my mind, because I’d die before getting jail raped for my soul. But then the Bible told me turn the other cheek, but how when there’s so much pride to hold. Nah nah, as long as it’s something I can control, I’d like it for my ass to remain closed.
Heaven bound but I barely even pray. And when I pray I’m probably about to eat.
Heaven bound but I barely even sleep. I guess I’m waiting for the Lord to judge my soul.
This is the confessions of a child, who never really cared about the wealth. Instead he prayed to talk to all these girls, probably thinking it would help his mental health. And his mama always confiscating phones, cause it’s 6 am and he’s still on the phone. Then she asks him why he’s gotta be extreme, then doctor doctor says he’s messing up his health. He was looking for the truth inside a lie, from the misconceptions he created about himself. Then heartbreak came and hit him with the truth. No one can replace the love you have for you.
Heaven bound and I’m trying to see the light. I’m trying to separate my feelings from the truth.
Heaven bound and I’m trekking through this life. I’m trying to find the love I once had for You.
Silent repeating to myself things like, “I’m not sentimental”, but I know I will be resentful when you are no longer here. I can recall the days when hair grasped the front of your forehead’s and black strands were spread everywhere. Time changes things. And I don’t know the pains of labour, but I figure my feeble body was the savior which made it all worth it. My minor complications didn’t make a difference. I know you still luud me…luhhhd me…lovv’d me…umm yea you know what I am trying to say. Yea, yea you know what I am trying to say, so I won’t even bother saying it. And even if you don’t I’d probably be horrible at relaying it, so I won’t even bother. I’ll just leave all that mushy stuff for some girl I like. I’ll just fight the feeling of saying I love you. That is only used for special occasions. It’s just odd that the most I can bring myself to do is hug you. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I am not used to this. I’m not used to feeling like life is moving so quick. I thought I would be a teenager forever. I’m not used to wishing we could all stick together as I take each stride through life. For I fear that my steps will outnumber yours. Cause I know the Bible says something about three score and ten, but I don’t want to be left on this earth an orphan. Because if you die before I, I might be stuck teary-eyed with a wife that doesn’t even know how to sympathize. That’s negative thinking however. Let me dry my eyes and play the part of a stereotypical guy. We don’t cry, but I am just surprised I couldn’t bring myself to give you guys more than a hug when you were alive. I’d always envy when other people would call you guys their best friends. I really appreciated everything you all did for me, but it’s just I never really expressed it to it’s full extent. Now I am stuck sharing my thoughts with memories of you…. R.I.P Mom and Dad. Stop. Rewind. I really love you guys.
I can remember when I was a child. Everything took on the characteristic of happiness. All of my days seemed bright, and the only stress that would occasionally plague my soul was the anticipation of a spanking. Tears were rare, but I was often troubled by the slightest divergence from the moral standard I had set for myself. Conditioned to think that if I was bad I would go to hell, I would try my best to be good and do good. My moral character was constantly being exercised. I would create a superset for myself. Abstain from a lie: push-up. Maintain my integrity while taking a test: pull-up. Obey when my parents or my grandmother told me to do something: sit-up. My moral character grew, and I was becoming perfect…. I was becoming saved. The preachers words would resonate in my head. Be good. Do good. And forget the cliché’s. Maybe that’s how some of my peers felt as they sat and listened to children story after children story. After all, we were closing in on the age in which the call for us to walk down the isle and sit center stage was no longer applicable. We were supposed to be growing up, but I was still touched. This was supposed to be cool, but I was in no rush. I knew I would be young forever. I never liked hearing the old folks talk about youth. Youth was only delegated to certain people. I was born young. They were born old.
When I was young, I was good. When I was young, I did good. I did not take for granted the words that I heard in church. Often perplexed by the sinful little humans that surrounded me, I would ask myself why these kids did not want to be saved. I was a kid, and I wanted to be saved, so I was good. I did good. Everything was so easy. Puberty was unheard of, and my hormones were in good spirits. I just liked to be outside. I just liked to run around and burn off all the energy which caused a great deal of inattentiveness in my class of life. You see, I was oblivious that time was passing and that I was getting older. I was unaware that I would soon have an affinity for computer screens and obscene things. But I would always spill the beans to mother because of my conscience. It was because I was holy and into all that pious nonsense. It’s such a shameful thing, but I would soon become a teen.
I remained oblivious that time was moving and that I was getting older. I guess I never deemed it possible. I would often hear older people talk about life and the stress it can bring. What the hell are they talking about? They must be doing something wrong. Tighten up. I continued to make judgments as life continued to make subtle moves on me.
High school…
“We are praying for you and your family.” What is happening? What went wrong? No one told me what hospice was. In fact, I was relieved to see her in our worship room when I came home from school. The plethora of hospital visits were beginning to get to me. Plus after weeks of silence the doctor finally said there were signs of improvement. I was young however. I didn’t know life was making moves. That room would soon be void of life and the equipment that was only meant to ease humans to their grave. I would soon see tears from my mothers eyes for the first time. Things were changing. I was aging. I was born to be young however. I was born to be young.
College…
By this time, I should have been well aware that life was moving on me. I knew I was getting older, but I was born to be young. I knew that she could have an immense effect on me, but I continued to be touched. So I touched. But I was supposed to be perfect. It’s just something would always convince me that it would be worth it as I’d unearth hips and kiss lips. I had long strayed from the moral standard I set for myself when I was a child. I realized was growing old. I realize I am growing old. I always believed that I would die slowly, but life is moving fast. My mind often fishes around in the past hoping to renew it as the present….
Times is moving, and things are constantly changing. I always thought that I was born to be young. Then l grew up.
Okay today is the day. Yea, I can feel it. I love the feedback. It makes me feel good. Let me conjure something intricate. Yes yes! Let me write something down that sounds so profound it will make you scream out loud. I want to be heard, so I write. A self-conscious human being, so I type and just hope my words will touch you in the right spot. I want to produce something marvelous. I want to produce something that will have me marveled at. Therefore I struggle to come up with words, basing self-worth on what I can get you to concur with. I don’t want any arguments. Just agree. Trust me.You’re investing in my self-confidence.
I’ve produced and produce. The feedback is amazing. I re-read my work for cliché’s. There is none. Oh yes, in a few minutes they’ll be praising my work. And it’s okay. There is adequate room for my head to swell. Because as of late, I’ve been malnourished with thoughts of inferiority and going to hell. Singing hymns like “It Is Well”, yet knowing not a damn things well. So I guess I’m a liar, but my pants only seem to be on fire when I see her. Or her. Oh Lord cleanse my mind as the tights get sheerer and the urge gets stronger.
But let us return to the topic at hand. My words must create an incredible picture. And if my words were to make me great, then I would gladly accept this fate of mine. After all, everyone needs a social standing. Right? Everyone needs to create a grand reputation for himself. Sike! …I only wish I could say that with sincerity. I’m praying to the Lord not really questioning if He hears me, but I just want someone to be near me. And it just scares me that the only time I’m feeling “loved” is when a female’s near me…
If I’m going to reap what I sow and I’m constantly getting oral, then I might reap a hoe. That’s a no go. You see I want a wife one day. I want to look at her and then tell my daughters that she has set a high standard to attain. I don’t want her example to be the one to blame when our child’s body has been defamed by a boy who swooned her with false claims. I want a wife that I can lie with on my wedding night and not have to worry whether the passage between her thighs remains tight. I want to smile knowing that neither of us has ever experienced anything like sex. So I’m trying to watch what I sow now. For I fear that if I carelessly sow seeds that could have potentially produced trees, I may in fact end up with weeds. And those weeds would flourish in accordance with the choices I’d continue to make. I quickly realized that if I wanted a queen, then I would have to stay far far away from the party scene. Because I know the girl of my dreams won’t be dancing around talking about #twerkteam.
I understand that the quality of a women/man is relative. You’d probably say, “It’s cool if she only had sex with him.” But that’s only because you are probably thinking about all the other girls you’re currently smashing. Up until this point, nothing for you has really been “lasting”, so the last thing you would need is for your girl to be a virgin. As long as she wasn’t with him and him and him and him (and as the list goes on Lord please forgive her sins), you are cool with that. But I want to take a different path. I want a bad chick. Please excuse my french, but don’t confuse that with a bad bitch. I want a girl whose standards are more than average. I want to reap the kind of girl not just any guy could step to, so as of late, I’ve been trying to sow seeds for you…
A lot of energy has been expended. So now we put our guards up because we must conserve everything that is left of us. Not much. We have become pain stakened. “Lonely or alone?”, those are two totally different statements. Just be patient. It’s just something about this present congregation aka my generation. I’m just saying. In accordance with Adam and Eve, my generation conceived the notion that “we were meant to be”…together. The junction of him and her would last forever. This kind of commitment would need love however. What is love though? Can we despise ourselves yet love another? Can we chastise our being yet love the others? He was broken, but his arms were left wide open to receive her…and she was a dreamer. She dreamed that he would be different from the other guys. And although he let go of his other ties with women, he was still slipping. Cause he was still gripping, another girls behind in his mind, but it’s fine. She was a dime! Then his conscience would bite him, and he would give in and tell his girl that he was mentally sinning. She would respond, “You can cheat on me, but just don’t leave me. You know I’d do anything to appease thee!” He’d say, “Oh for real? Cool, get down on your knees b.” It was tragic, how her moral code just disappeared like magic. The next thing you know he was an addict, and he spent the rest of the relationship trying to cut the habit. He swung at immorality like he was at Lambrick! Stop the madness! He knew there would be no exchange after he got some brain, so why complain? Well, because she told him it was okay. Girl what are you saying? “I can’t risk the loss. Too much energy has been expended.” Oh, so we should go on pretending we’re going to work this out? “What’s the problem dear? Every time it happens now…I get aroused!” Please close your mouth. I’m trying to leave you with something to hold onto. “It’s too late for that. I belong to you.”
Sooner than later the rationale came through, and he sat there thinking what the hell to do. She was unmoved as he presented his case. In a moment, all the good things he had done for her would suddenly be erased from her memory. She silently repeated to herself, “You can cheat on me, but just don’t leave me. You know I’d do anything to appease thee!” He’d have flashbacks of the times he’d say, “Babe pretty please, drop down to your knees. Could you do it just for me?” This conversation was not going on in real life however. She just stood listening to him state his claims. They all registered as excuses, and all she could think was, “How could he do this?” But they came to a consensus. They agreed to part ways for the summer and pray to Allah for the answers and just hope that he would answer. He got back to them. They had no future in store…. A lot of energy had been expended. Now they have their guards up in order to conserve everything that is left of them.
Be careful…cause it’s not much…
Disclaimer: This entry was written for myself. This entry was written for you.
I have seen it go something like this: Party, church, altar call. Or like this: Fornication, church, altar call. Or this: Drinking/smoking, church, altar call. Or even this: Cheating, church, altar call. These are some of the paradoxes that are much too familiar to myself and my Christian peers. A week ago I got to visit one of my older siblings that went away for college. He had managed to escape from having a roommate this semester, so every time I go visit him I am comfortably housed. Although I went on the weekend his school was going on spring break, I was still able to enjoy my stay and keep myself pretty occupied for the duration of the time I was there. On Friday night, my brother causally asked me if I wanted to go with him and his friends to Zaxby’s. I opted to go with him for the ride, but I told him that I’d prefer not to buy anything on the Sabbath. He said okay. On Saturday morning, I woke up early to go to Sabbath school, but my brother cautioned me that no one was going to be there that early. I proceeded to go anyway, and although his statement was a bit exaggerated, it was somewhat true. Later on that evening I was doing an entry for my blog and noticed that the sun was setting. I made a comment about it and suggested to him and his friend that we close the Sabbath. I was totally ignored.
At this point I was thinking, “Do you still practice your religion?” I soon was reminded that I had no authority to judge my brothers actions, and a question came to my mind. If I was under such scrutiny would my peers or someone who is not of my faith consider me to be a Christian? The rest of the weekend I just observed and joined in on different conversations when I could. The prevailing topic of the weekend was getting everything in order for a trip to PCB (Panama City Beach) my brother and a couple of his friends were taking for spring break. Part of me wanted to tag along on the trip, but I knew I wouldn’t be involved in most of the activities that went on. Plus I had school work that still needed to be done. I was still intrigued as my brother and his friend frantically tried to tie up the loose ends of the trip on Sunday night…. They planned to leave Monday morning. Nevertheless they made it and enjoyed themselves.
He brought back footage of some of the parties they went to and even told stories about some of the crazy stuff that happened while they were there. I thought it was pretty ironic that he happened to run across so many of the students at the university I attended at the parties he went to. I pretty much knew or had seen most of the people he mentioned. I had seen some in passing while I walked the campus or at AY…singing songs of praise on the podium.
For years, I seriously thought that preachers would slightly exaggerate when they talked about students going to AY on Friday nights and then being at the parties the other nights of the week. I was oblivious because of my absence at these functions; however, this entry spans beyond the attendance of my peers these clubs or house parties. Sin is sin although we like to categorize it. How can we hear some of the most refined preachers in the Seventh-day Adventist community and not be phased by their message even if it speaks directly to us? How can we carry out some of the paradoxes listed above and not experience any transforming power in our lives? These are the kinds of questions I would ask myself when I was struggling with an addiction that took 6 years of my life to overcome.
I have friends who have had unprotected sex, almost slipped up on several occasions, but still continue to have sex. I once knew a person who contracted mononucleosis (mono) at a party from drinking off of a friend. This individual then gave the viral infection to their mother, yet a sometime later they resumed their drinking habit. I also knew a guy who literally began to see his mind and thoughts deteriorate from his heavy use of porn and masturbation, but he still continued to indulge in it for years. After all of this, why wouldn’t any of these people just stop the sin he or she was committing? Over the past year, I have seen why it is not this simple. After years and years of practicing a religion, there is a good chance a person will become numb to the teachings they have learned from their childhood. This can be observed in the fire and zeal a new believer has compared to the complacency a person that is a 3rd generation believer of the faith has. I believe that all of the resources an individual has may in fact handicap that person, giving them the “blessings and convictions” they need one day only to have them performing an all out sprint to their sins the next day.
Sometimes a person has to have an experience which leaves them so repulsed with and helpless to their sin that they are willing to place every effort of themselves into God’s hands to help them overcome it. But until them…let em’ sin.
Just Some Thoughts... 