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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 After all, we were closing in on the age in which the call for us to walk down the isle and sit center stage was no longer applicable.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…
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….
Just Some Thoughts... 