Just Some Thoughts…

"While we are encompassed by a world of problems, it is our responsibility to decide how we react." -thepositivendeavour

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KohrulMe

January 23, 2016

He is no militant man, but based on his stance you might have to question that. He is a diligent man, and he will do what he says. He will work harder for himself than he will work for you. Therefore he is ruler over his own destiny. His motivation isn’t based on your pennies worth of incentives, but he just moves off the sense of self that he has been blessed with. He will share that blessing. His physical and his mental being are in alignment with what the Word says, so if he should reap what he has sown he should reap a basket of woes. He shouldn’t reap a wife because he’d been “Sowing Hoes”. However, he believes in the phrase “I Forgive You.” And Dad “I Love You” but, please stop suggesting potential wives. Under divine rule he has obtained control of his mind, so when “Your Painted Black Thighs” peruse his eyes he maintains a calm state of mind. His words will be chosen carefully, and his negative thoughts will be replaced by thoughts of the quality of life he plans to have. He maintains control over his yearning to frequently return to “The Batcave” because he realizes he won’t be accepting melodies from the lyre just the Liar that says his life is not worth it and that he’s worthless. He was once told he was ugly. Then he grew a little and was told he was pretty. He realized shifting his basis of self worth to rely on external beauty is “Hogwash” because he began to tell himself “I’d Die Young” so he would die pretty. Beauty fades with age. Beauty grey’s with age. He will just thank the Lord he learned to embrace pain. He’ll thank the Lord he didn’t have to get “Stoned” mid December in order to escape pain. Because it did hurt in November when she didn’t text back, and it was a slight setback. However, pain isn’t fatal, so there is no need to be “Cradled” every time “Those Slum Days” come around. And no “Down Girl! Down!”, but please stand up girl. Stand and assume the proper stance beside a man and not down on your hands and knees. If you are reading this, this a more effective way he has developed to communicate his feelings without being an “Extremist or Extremely Passionate”. He no longer has the “Harsh Dependency” of needing a cute girl on his side because he has a beautiful wife. He is no longer a “Masochist” to himself. For he realized if he continued his actions he would leave his mother saying “I Have A Funeral To Attend”. He revere’s the words of men such as Martin Luther King Jr, and someday his words from “Luthor” will touch someone in the same manner. Essentially, he realized that his state of mind was directly proportional to “The Greater Scheme” of his life. Therefore, he maintains his faith as his path is “Heaven Bound”.

Consequently,

Your Founder/Chief Executive Officer

Cradled

February 23, 2015 — 4 Comments

There is no need to be judgmental. And although her influence is instrumental, we all have sins of our own. She just sings hers a little louder. We’re just seeking someone to look up to. And she was looking to be influenced so one day she could be influential. But I’ve learned we should be careful of our desire to admire people who we think we’d like to be. I don’t know you yet, but if you run across this here are my words of admonition. Set up some kind of moral basis for yourself. Don’t get too disheartened if you stray from the standard you set up in your youth and innocence. It happens to the best of us. Stay nostalgic however. Always yearn to return to the standard you once set for yourself. Understand that time changes things. Time ages things. Time may taint your innocence, and you may become two-faced with your sins. Some days rationality and morality will discern your reason; other days you may be emotionally reasoned. You’ll feel like a hypocrite, and you will get tired of it all. However, you will just have to learn from your mistakes. People will always judge you, and you will always have preconceptions of people. Never act as one who is infallible. Never try to convince people of your character, but rather let your actions paint a caricature of you. Again, be careful who you choose to look up to. If you’re not about what many guys will come at you for, then be careful around females who are. For he neglected bowflex and chose to exercise his index between her legs. She allowed it. Then the index became a little denser. Now she’s an addict. My mother always told me that her mother always told her , “Show me your friends, and I’ll show you who you are.” So show me someone striving for perfection only in utter hopes of achieving some kind of excellence. I hope I told you and showed you I love you, so when another man tells you this it won’t temporarily fill a void in your heart. And “Unto third and fourth generation” of me may cause you and your seed to do somethings that will make God displeased. So please forgive me. I’m just writing to you from future aspirations of me…your father to be. And I would like to say again that I love you. I’ll start practicing from now because pain has caused me to use this phrase lightly. And “Mama/Daddy I love you. My blog speaks for me, but hope I made you proud.” I hope she makes you proud. For if I reap what I have sowed life will owe me a basket of woes. Therefore, I want you know that I love you in the way I treat all the other daughters around me…. So say a prayer for me. Please. The devil will soon be coming for me. I think I have relayed to you what I needed to. I understand my voice grows faint with my age, but my words still carry relevance. I hope God allows me to recieve you from my Womb to Be. Until then, stay safe while I strive to show my love for you. So please forgive me Keke, Corey, Ms. Rose, Ms. Peña, Kay, and young Des. Thanks.

To my precious little lady,

Your Father

Stoned

January 22, 2015

I feel like I’m 21 and divorced; God I need some. I’m feeling loyal to a girl that I haven’t won. And ultimately my faith lies in You or in this world, but either way I don’t foresee “fun”. I can sing, “It Is Well” then burn in hell screaming, “Why am I the one You have forsaken?” Or since they call me Munk, become monk, and restrain my cum until the day I’m done. Damn. At least I’ll see the ones who’ve gone on before me, but as of late I’ve just been feeling so earthly. It’s fear that’s been instilled in me. I fear God so much sometimes I forget that He’s supposed to love me. Freshman year I was condemned to hell because of my jewelry, yet she didn’t even take the time to hear my story. Flipped the script and traded in slit wrists for a pierced lip. Pain for pain. Traded in hospital bed grips for a tatted chin. Win for win. Sometimes the pain that hides within might seep out on your skin. Dang.

However, I won’t justify anything. But little brother and little sister are out here with their javelins. I speak my thoughts, and they’re ready to throw it at my sins. And I used to be the same way with my older brother until I fell in my pit. I may not drink, smoke, or party, but I’m still struggling. Doing things that my younger self would never do. Thinking thoughts my baby mind couldn’t construe. And lately deaths been in the waters; it’s been stirring up the seas. It’s messing with my ship; it’s trying to drown me. I don’t want another shift in the dynamics of my family. She’s been sick for soo long, but I’m just thinking of me. I won’t front and act as if I ever really knew her, so please save the condolences because my cold shoulders’ becoming frost bitten and it’s only turning bluer. And I know my right to pursue happiness, but life never opted to be kind to the pursuer.

Yesterday, I traded in some sick shit for some righteousness. Instead of taking a weekend trip for a quick fix I’ll be “working” on my sins. So does that make me pious?! Nah. And gramps is choosing death over the suffering. Damn. Their matrimonies’ been a couple decades in the making. Man…

I’d Die Young

October 7, 2013 — 1 Comment

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.

Let em’ sin…

March 14, 2013 — 8 Comments

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.

Like A Star

March 6, 2013

Disclaimer: Take a deep breathe. Open your mind. Begin to imagine.

Hey. Hi there. Hello. Umm I’m sorry…I just get kind of nervous at the thought of you. Please excuse me. I just need to run to the bathroom to dry my hands real quick. Okay, there we go. My name is Bakari. What’s yours? Ohh that’s a pretty cool name. Are you American? Cool! I was born in the states, but I rep Guyana all day every day. So you must know about that cook up rice and cook curry! Ha ha, that’s too cool. We may have to throw down in the kitchen sometime! So tell me more about yourself. What are some of your aspirations in life? Personal goals? Wow, I was kinda expecting a glittery cliché to-do list. Well either that or a stuttered answer based on your lack of thought about it prior to this conversation. It’s rare to talk to a girl who has solid goals that span beyond the realm of modern academia. What steps are you presently making toward those goals? That’s awesome dude! I can definitely relate to what you’re saying, but I just try to remember that time becomes more and more scarce from here. I definitely agree with what you’re saying though.

I like your style by the way. You seem pretty comfortable in your own skin. Are you anything else besides goal-oriented and academically driven? Ha ha, oh my! I mean I’m just kind of shocked that you care about your health. I know that everyone has some degree of concern for their health, but most people our age reckon their youth makes them invincible. I visit the nursing home far to often to neglect the importance of adopting a healthy lifestyle. Are you interested in community service or things of that nature by any chance? Awesome! Maybe I could introduce you to some of my people at the nursing home one day. This is kinda random, but do you ever party? Seriously? I was just curious. It’s just most of the girls that I’m attracted to or that are attractive in general seem to be into it. I guess that’s a large portion of college girls anyway. A lot of my high school friends are into it, but I guess it wouldn’t seem that weird if I told you I’ve never been to a college party. But yea I agree. And like you said, it is a pretty good outlet for girls who want to let loose sometimes without being called a slut or a hoe.

Ha ha, how do you posses all these great qualities and manage to stay single? You Miss Independent or something? *Stands up to put on a demonstration* Okay, okay enough ha ha. I’ll sit down now. Most of my friends admit they can only manage small doses of me. Ba ha ha ha! You seem to have a unique humor yourself! Too funny! No no no. Let’s not talk about me. We are learning about you today. Okay, okay. Relax. Truth is I am a man of integrity. If I were to acquire a girlfriend that would leave thousands of other women envious. A wickedly sinful practice you know. My conscience would not allow me to take part in such self-absorbed behavior! I am single for the sake of her. And her. And for her with my Instagram picture as her screen saver. Quite frankly I don’t even know the chick. Alright, alright. No more jokes for the moment. To be honest, I am emotionally drained. I would eventually love to have someone to love, but I guess I’m just scared she won’t meet the standard established by the lady before her. I’m not trying to experience any more emotional trauma from discovering things that were triggered by misunderstood motives. I am no longe….

5:00am: Bo lu calazooom! Bo lu calazooom!

40,000 lux of blue light blasts in my face. It’s a part of my therapy. I have my devotion. I’m still confused. “She was too vivid. I couldn’t have been dreaming. I just couldn’t have.” I hop into the shower and begin my hydrotherapy. Scorching hot. Freezing cold. “Aghhh! Burrr!” Repeat. I hop out of the shower and proceed into my bedroom. It’s still dark outside. “So quite and peaceful.”

Buzzz. Text message from….

The Batcave

March 2, 2013

If I can inspire, would that fulfill my heart’s desire? As I’m sitting on my throne accepting melodies from the lyre, I’m much higher. “What?” I’m higher than I have ever been since I’ve stopped meddling with that sin. “Ohh. Okay, carry on.” Once it started to bloom, I was consumed. And I spent thousands of hours planted in the my room. I couldn’t move, but I just blamed it on the lady with the broom. She was on some shrooms, got a little confused, and then came through and cast a spell on a dude! “Wow. Man quit playing! That’s insane! So when’s the next time you trying to get some brain though?” Stop. Please don’t try and tempt me. You know if I go back down that road you know I will be left broken and feeling empty. And don’t resent me for side stepping your offer…my enemy. Just leave me be and let me continue my story of how this sinful indulgence almost destroyed me. “Okay. But always remember that you can look although you may not touch. God has already declared your victory, so there’s no rush.”

My hands and my eyes were in conjunction. I was in so deep I was unable to function. I couldn’t go to luncheon without thinking who and who was eyeing me. But nah I think I’ll just blame that on my social anxiety. And hell yea that’s propriety cause I can’t have all that guilt piled up inside me. Plus I could be free. I could be free from all the stresses of trying to pursue that girl in who’s face I’d probably hurl after she denied me. But at least I tried b. I could always run to The Batcave to hide me as I blindly searched for something to remind me of the sexual ventures I had with her. Or her. Or maybe her because her breasts were a bit larger, and she’d probably go a bit farther. “Yes! Yes! You’ve done your three months time, so you’re more than fine! Plus, what’s a college guy without a chick on his side?” Nah, I think I’ll be alright for the moment seeing that, that shouldn’t be an essential component of my coolness.

My mind was deprive of real life. My perception was surreal in fact. I looked down her back and thought those implants was her real ahh…yea. “Don’t doubt what I have shown you. For the last six years I have owned you and grown you into the lustful man you are today…well the one you were three months ago anyway. Don’t turn your back on me now!” I will not take a bow nor allow my defenses to be let down. I won’t stand here proud and act as if all my battles have been won. I’m just grateful for how far I’ve…well for how far we’ve come.

Extremist or Extremely Passionate?

February 24, 2013

My life, like many of yours, is composed of many intricacies unknown to others. I have been told that since I was born I’ve had to fight for life. I won’t reproduce to you a cliché story about my near death experience upon exiting the womb, but I will say that my impaired birth did lead me to have mild complications throughout my childhood. These complications would later cause me to sketch a skewed image of myself.

I was the fastest kid in my class for the majority of my elementary career. When I was in third grade, I was chosen to race against two of the other fastest kids in my elementary school. They were both older than me, so I was pretty nervous to race against them. The day finally came for us to race, and I placed last as I expected. I lost the race from close behind however. This probably would have been a great opportunity for me to feed my emaciated ego…if my classmates had not witnessed the raced. After seeing me run that day, my classmates would soon coerce me to play a game called cops and robbers in P.E class. It was simply tag with an embellished title. They were the cops. I was the robber.

“1. 2. 3. GO!” I began to sprint. Those with the duty of enforcing the law upon me were left in the dust. That only lasted for a couple of seconds however. I should have known better, but I wasn’t going to seem weak.”You are under arrest!” In a moment, I was being man handled by the majority of the girls and guys in my class. “Put your hands behind your back!” Crap. They got me. Silence. “Don’t try anything funny.” Almost there. Almost there. A couple minutes had passed, and they were getting too comfortable having me as their prisoner…. “He’s getting away!” I was gone, and they were anger. They would soon be pacified as they saw my sprint become a light jog then a feeble walk. “Don’t worry about it. We got him!” They handled me with even more force than before. Or maybe it was just the feeling of my body going into a sharp decline. “I bet you won’t try to run again!” Their grip on me was much tighter than first time, and I knew they wanted me to fuel the little adrenaline rushes I was giving them. “Don’t try anything stupid!” I silently gasp for air. “Haha, you won’t escape this time!” The wheezing became heavy. My symptoms were drowned out by their taunting. Enough. “N…N..Nooo. No your…your not going anywhere. S…STOP HIM!” My self-esteem would not be lowered as they surrounded me and instigated me to break free. The air I tried to breathe then stopped registering to my lungs. “Gotcha! I bet you won’t…are…ummm are you okay Bakari?’ Blackness. Stars. Pockets empty. No inhaler. “Give him space! Bakari! Bakari, breathe in and out into this paper bag. Your mother is coming with your inhaler. ” My first attack. They stood in awe. I felt weak. Never again.

8th grade…

“Okay, so your choices are Gatlinburg (Tennessee), Disney World, or St. Louis.” Bloody class trip. I knew swimming would be involved. I had formed a fancy for delicacies such as bread with humus or chips and salsa. They could no longer say I would blow away in the wind if a storm passed through. In fact, they said the opposite. “Wow, boy your putting on a little weight there.” “You used to be so skinny! What happened?” A nice little dynamite for my ego. There was not much to demolish though. I was only about fifteen pounds overweight, but in my head I became obese. I was already self-conscious, but now I had become a faithful slave to their opinion. “Don’t think about the burn, think about what you’re going to earn. Come on, push yourself!” My chest remained tight. My lungs continued to burn. I kept exercising.

Days…weeks…months…

A quarter mile became a half a mile. A half a mile became a mile. A mile became two miles. The scale began to register lower numbers. The comments began to lessen. I worked hard. I worked really hard. A daily two mile run became part of my religion. I ran for the relative that commented on my weight gain. I ran for the older cousin who was shocked to see me chubby after not seeing me for a few years. I ran for my haggard ego in hopes to feed it with the weight I lost.

Class trip was approaching…

School. Homework. Treadmill. School. Homework. Treadmill. School. Homework. Treadmill. Dang. You weren’t supposed to eat after six. Okay, run an extra two miles. School. Homework. Treadmill. School. Homework. Treadmill. School. Homework. Treadmill. Oh shoot. You really pigged out tonight. But it’s Friday night. You know your mom won’t let you exercise. Proceed to the guest bathroom in the basement. Open the toilet lid. Fingers ready? Okay, stick em’ in and shove em’ down. Gag reflex. Try again. Chokes. Try harder. That’s good, but you know you really messed up tonight. You need to bring up some more. Just stick them down fast. Don’t think about it. AWYKXGTHKR!!! Okay cool. Now clean up this mess before your mom sees this. A few days pass. I messed up again. Repeat.

I cherish these memories, and I have recently made some more. These days, however, the question just rings in my head, “Extremist or extremely passionate? Extremist or extremely passionate?”

A time comes when one must free himself from the views and opinions of others in order to live. Act accordingly.

“I Forgive You”

January 9, 2013 — 2 Comments

Disclaimer: This entry was written to be thought-provoking. Opinions are given. Religious view are used.

Lately, I have been haunted by the words “I forgive you.” Growing up I was always taught to forgive others when they wronged you. My religion exposed me to Bible verses such as Mark 11:25 which says, “And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” Sermons about forgiveness were often preached at church. Forgiveness was not an option but rather a requirement. Moreover, of all the sins and vices the world struggled with, the least a person could do was forgive. Right? And I mean who wants to know their sins won’t be forgiven by God if they have not forgiven their neighbor? Forgiveness was a given. When I was younger I can even recall being forced to say “I forgive you” if one of my siblings apologized to me after doing something wrong. Because I was obedient I said what my parents wanted to hear, but that did not keep me from silently harboring the negative feelings I had. Early on in life, I noticed that little things would get to me very easily. In addition to being affected by these seemingly petty things, I would also internalize whatever bothered me. I became so accustomed to saying I forgive you out of habit that I could hold a grudge against someone while “forgiving” them. I mastered it. You probably did too.

You see, while everyone taught me that I should forgive they forgot to teach me how to forgive. Now that I am older and my life is more involved I have come to realize the importance of being able to forgive. Earlier today, I was browsing the internet in search of information on forgiveness. I would like to share one definition I found that stuck out to me. Mayo Clinic defines forgiveness as “a decision to let go of resentment and thoughts of revenge.” Pretty simple. I also ran across two interesting quotes about forgiveness. “One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory” -Rita Mae Brown and “Forgive others, not because they deserve forgiveness, but because you deserve peace.”-Unknown author

These two quotes immediately raised two thoughts in my head. 1. As humans, we are extremely selfish. 2. Not one person on this earth deserves peace. How could this be? I think it is obvious that humans are naturally self-centered. Some more than others. But how could no one deserve peace!? It’s easy to look at the second quote and say, “Whoaaa, this is AMAZING!” However, that again is a reminder of our selfish human nature. A person is hurt, and they want to move on with their life and get over a situation. So they “forgive” but with the attitude that the other person does not deserve their forgiveness but is “humbly” receiving it. The person doing the “forgiving” approaches the situation with a sense of entitlement. They forgive because THEY deserve peace. In reality, however, this person really deserves nothing. How could one deserve peace when they themselves have wronged others in the most unforgivable ways? How does a person deserve peace when they have stolen the peace and sanity of others? They don’t. None of us do.

Although the definition quoted earlier was a very simple one, it removed the self-centered focus out of forgiveness and replaced it with a selfless one. I would like to suggest that forgiveness is for more than one person. Forgiveness is for one’s self and for others. Since none of us deserve forgiveness or peace of mind, we all should agree. I believe the quote by Martin Luther King Jr, “forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude,” embodies the true meaning of forgiveness. Forgiveness does not stop after you forgive a person. Forgiveness is the attitude you have towards a person and life after you have been hurt. We should not forgive others just to say we have forgiven them or because we think we deserve peace.

“We should forgive because none of us deserve the freedom that comes with it.”-thepositivendeavour

Your Painted Black Thighs…

January 4, 2013 — 2 Comments

Disclaimer: Racial slurs are used.

Good job ladies I must say. Bravo. I have been moved to speak on the behalf of myself and all the other guys out there who are enjoying the sights you share with us. Honestly, we are truly grateful. I mean seriously. We no longer have to creep around our dorms trying to find something to stimulate our eyes. That will make any man self-conscious. In fact, you simulate our eyes and you stimulate our “prize” possession. Yea that was a confession. I am content with my size. I will be proper enough, however, to say thank you because I consider myself a gentleman.

It’s your painted black thighs that barely shield your black skin. No offense, but I’m not directing this to Caucasian women. I attend an HBCU. Forget the skinny jeans ladies! You see, we are different from our preceding generation. Our minds are a tad more twisted. Well actually a lot more twisted. Some where along the line the paradigm was shifted. We didn’t need to stumble across our father’s “secret stash” to pick up the addiction. All we needed was the Internet. If you think about it, it eliminated a lot of the hassle too. Obscene imagery was at our finger tips. Click. And that’s about it. Our lives were changed forever. I say all for the worst, and none for the better. But it’s whatever. At least it helped us get through puberty. My gosh we were so horny!

Please excuse me for drifting off topic. I was just trying to justify my…well our lustful eyes. It’s just your painted black thighs. They’re so amazing. I…well we can see basically everything. Huh? Umm…yea like we see all your goods moving. Ohhh. I have always taken pride in my integrity of mind, so can you please stop? And you may say, “Okay dude, it’s just fashion, now shut the hell up it’s not even that serious.” Fair enough, so would it be a problem for you to stop wearing it? “Why of course not, but I don’t see why that’s necessary.” Welll let’s just say because your tempting me. Your not concerned, however. You modest women. Your sooo classy. Side note: but some of you refer to your female friends as bitches. I’m just saying. Hold on. What did I just say? Modesty!? Psshhh, forget modest. I want all these niggas on me! Well that’s what your outfit said anyway. You just like to tease us and lead us into your trap. Then ZAP! “Girrllll that nigga wack!” That’s what you said after you lured him in and played hisss…yea. “Come on ladies, come on. Lets gather around and talk about who and who is thirsty.” Random chick: Humm…”Works for me!”

And it was all fun and games until you were approached by Him. Then you ended up getting played because of all the other visual simulations. He tells you, “I just wanted to enjoy God’s beautiful creation. Girl I’m only in college!” <;– I guess he didn't realize that when he asked you out. Gotcha. Now the tables are turned, and your left hurt and confused not knowing what to do. Girl get a clue. Keep doing what you've always done. Go entice some guy with your revealing clothing. My gosh, I was just joking! Now your on Instagram posting half-naked pictures of yourself?

I do apologize for the confession. It's just your painted black thighs look amazing…