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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
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…
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.
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.
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.
Just Some Thoughts... 