I Don’t Use Group-on.

They say, “There’s strength in numbers…”, but just as with so many other things, moderation and wisdom must also be liberally applied to this. For instance, when the time comes to speak up against some social or political injustice, absofuckinglutely the more the merrier. But, as it pertains to one’s relationship? Well, anything more than two is decidedly problematic.

But, I am not going to address the periodic three-some business… not today 😉

What I am addressing however are the hidden dangers of groups. Cliques. Those knots of people that, positive or destructive, have chosen to comfortably settle into a mindset and a way of life that is resistant to not only growth, but change. Those that view any alternative as threatening, therefore adversarial. The cliques that stand guard to protect… what exactly?

Now, these groups can be quite large, or they can be as few as that other form of three-some business. In this instance, size truly does not matter. What does however, are the pitfalls harvesting from the roots up. The universal mob-mentality that must exist for the initial formation. So often, some may not even be aware that this is happening; viewing their circumstance simply as like-minded, geographically-similar folks enjoying each other. Making the best of the set of social realities they have been dealt. Logical.

What also may slip some in the process however is their subsequent rejection of and antagonism for any outside influences. A mentality that rejects first and seeks forgiveness later. The misguided sense of authority that says one member is able to speak for and speak of. That all decisions must be inclusive. All thoughts, secrets, opinions and emotions subject to be shared amongst each other. Without permission or consent.

Okay. You may see that I reject this in its entirety.

I am in no way stating that I believe groups of people cannot share a successful relationship. No indeed. What I am saying is that in order to do so, each individual must remain individual. Boundaries must be established and observed. And, each must possess an overflow of autonomy. Each player must firmly reject any semblance of a pack-mentality.

Listen… when I started this blog, I vowed, not to be as transparent as possible; but to be transparent… because it’s possible. Prior to my going public, I had spent many many years in the darkness, holding others’ secrets for them. Sheltering them from ridicule (or possible prosecution); sheltering myself from the pain of reliving and facing. Slowly I realized the shame was not mine… the lessons were. I am saying this to say this – if I am ever going to speak, I will speak the truth or shut up. I will use my experiences to better explain not only my opinion, but hopefully my position. My position in life. Right. At. This. Moment.

Let’s address this.

I am committed to being the sole narrator of my life. Yes, with every interaction I allow you authority to pen a verse or a line, but never be mistaken that I reserve the right to tell it. With that, comes my extreme caution as it relates to placing myself in any situation that gives the (erroneous) impression that others are allowed to speak “on my behalf”. A group. A clique. Environments that are associated with the loss of the right to privacy. Situations that seem to assume that simply by virtue of showing up, you have implicitly given permission to have your stories told by another.

“There is strength in numbers…” Yes. But oftentimes that “strength” is of the destructive kind. The kind that rolls downhill gathering steam from all the other like-minded destructive souls it collects along the way. Folks that succumb to mindlessness and a need to belong. Those that have deluded themselves into thinking ‘many’ means ‘popular’.

I speak for myself. I stand in the satisfaction and knowledge that I only share my truth. The scribbles you have made in my life are valuable and precious. But how I share them, if I share them, when I share them are solely my decisions. As it relates to my life, the strength I need comes from conviction, not numbers.

Truth…

I have had a three-some. Considering I am fifty-one years old (and a Scorpio), I think that that should not only be expected, but the only part that should shock you is that I have only had one! It was good. Never need to do it again. I have never been to either an all-inclusive fete or resort. The reason? I reject the idea that anyone gets to decide what that “all” should be. Someone else’s satisfaction with everything they choose to offer me may differ greatly with everything I believe I should have.

Like most other topics I address, this one is also not arbitrary. This is a real experience I am having and, one I am sure others have experienced or are experiencing. The dichotomy of attraction and rejection. The simplistic destructive nature that allows for the lack of true growth and the potential for success. The mentality that derives its misguided strength from those that choose to partake or entertain.

I am a survivor. Lord knows the experiences I have had that disallow for any indulgence of this, save this post. I write because I can. I write because I should. I write because I am. I write because I have a daughter whom I need to always be sure of her strength… individually. Separate from. In spite of.

The men who abused me had a lot of friends. Not one held them accountable or stood up for me. Today, this black woman needs no group or clique. She is mindful of and grateful for those that have helped along the way. But… She speaks up. For herself. About herself. To herself.

Love.

I Sure Did Step In It This Time…

As I approached the shuttle to Grand Central, all I saw before me was a sea of bodies. It was packed. I mentally started to formulate my maneuvers; scanning the throng for the best path to get me to the train car I needed. As I narrowed my scope to my immediate walk, I soon realized I had sub-consciously matched my stride to the young lady’s in front of me. I realized she was doing all my work; so if I just followed in her footsteps, maintain the path she was carving out, I would get to my destination… without breaking a sweat.

As I settled onto the train, another realization hit… this is what my ancestors had done. What our ancestors had done. Carved a path. Blazed a trail. Done the work. So if we stepped in their footsteps, we can either follow their exact route, or use their indentations to guide us onto our own. They did the work.

Heels and all I step in the puddles of their sweat, their tears, their joys and their sorrows. I wade in the pools of their blood… oftentimes ignorant of their sacrifices. Negating their efforts. This morning, the unbeknownst purposeful stride of a young woman literally brought me back to my roots. Opened my eyes to all that I take for granted on a daily basis. Brought front and center the attitude of gratitude I must implement for those who have gone before, stepped in the shit and cleared the path for me to exist. To stride. To strive.

So, now what?

“I am not myself. I am the result of all my ancestors…”

 

no name

that thing so very many struggle to adequately put into words words that will do it justice is the quest we seem to have been on for centuries centuries that have not brought us any closer to answers that measure up up there where the air is so rare rarely are we ever able to pin it down to pinpoint exactly where it started what is feels like like a breeze it touches us gently wafting beautiful memories and scents our way caressing our skin our soul our heart with its melody and strokes taking us up there riding so high we lose sight of all that is on the ground grounding us when it is good for us and breaking the anchor when it is not nothing feels as good as this this thing we are yet to adequately explain to ourselves to each other others have tried but gotten nowhere where were you when it happened to you do you remember remember when your palms got sweaty your cheeks flushed color stained your face your neck your entire body when the breath caught in your throat and you were left speechless breathless weightless when you could not remember your own name name that feeling if you dare dare to ascribe any word in the dictionary that does justice to it it is that thing that rides in on its own wave it does not borrow yours hers his theirs their wave is not good enough enough of this confusion would you name it it is bigger than you badder than you it is the thing that wakes you in the morning morning when all hope is renewed it puts you to sleep at night with a smile on your lips lips that have been licked and kissed by your lovers mouth it gives you the fuel to push on to push through to conquer all demons demons that cringe at the mere demonstration of this thing thinking it has been created to thwart its power powerful strokes that leave you breathless panting wanting sated screaming his name her name gods name in the name of every father no one can help help for this ache is not coming but you are arent you you have fallen deep into the abyss of weightlessness of dreaminess of hopelessness but this is what happens when you hope less and believe more more than you could ever imagine you deserve this this thing that will not be named as no name does it justice justice for all who suffer supposedly in the name of it it was not put here to cause pain pain is the reason it was put here here you go any answers yet yet you still indulge in the moments momentarily losing your mind mindful of the pitfalls bumps minefields fields of dreams they say but what exactly do they know know that they know as little as we we keep touching feeling stroking caressing yearning moaning groaning feeling things in our groins and loins that have no name no place no space no time time for answers now now that you have tasted it on your tongue rolled it around licked it up dipped in again gone back for seconds thirds fourths lets move forth lets go back for seconds wait just one second here here is where you are knee deep on a ride and you have hit repeat asked for a do over over and over again you experience the pain the pleasure the anticipation anticipating it must end this goodness cannot last forever forever is a myth anyway any way you can you should hold on strap in ride it out until there is no more left left right yes move there just like that that thing that you do is my heaven heaven can wait wait until you arch your back back up on it until you touch it it is yours right right left just like I like it it feels so good just there there is no name for this this is too much much has been written about it it continues to defy explanation exclamation is the point to make here here is what I know know that in all my life this thing is the very best thing there is is there a reason for it being this good good god yes yes indeed there is is your heart beating blood running through your veins pumping life into you you better believe there is a plan plan for it it is due you you were made to thrive to touch feel scream dream to stand at the edge of the world and point to what you want wanton desire and all all is yours you are all love

The World Is Round. Not Oval.

Everything has an etiquette; its own set of rules or protocols:

  • You wake in the morning, see people, you greet them
  • When walking down the street, the man walks on the outside of the woman
  • The knife goes to the right (blade-side inward) of the plate setting
  • The ex-partner of your “boy”, “bff” or “ride-or-die” is off limits to you
  • If you find the toilet seat down, put it back down when finished
  • When invited to someone’s home, take something as a gift
  • After being served at a restaurant or a bar, tip your server/bartender
  • Asking for something, say, “please”. Given something, say, “thank you”
  • Unless you’re related, do not open someone’s fridge without asking
  • Walk into a room and there are people there already, greet them
  • You visit someone’s home, follow their standard of living; not your own
  • Sitting in a handicap/elderly seat on the bus or subway and its needed, get your ass up
  • You’re seated and a pregnant woman is standing in front of you, get your ass up
  • Don’t speak with your mouth full of food
  • Don’t clip your nails or pick your nose in public
  • Open doors for ladies and allow them to enter before you
  • Never curse at children
  • Adhere to stated dress-standards for any function, or decline
  • When in the company of your ex and their next, refrain from any indication you once shared bodily fluids
  • Cover your mouth when you sneeze and yawn
  • Put the cap back on the toothpaste tube
  • Clean up your hair from the sink and shower floor
  • Take your phone off of speaker-mode when in public
  • Take your backpack off your back when on the subway
  • You are allowed one year to give a couple their wedding present
  • When toasting, look your fellow toasters in the eye
  • The only hands that should be involved in a handshake are the right ones
  • If your engagement is broken, the ring is returned to the giver
  • If giving a present, for catered affairs the monetary value should cover the cost of your plate
  • If quoting someone, quotation marks must always be used
  • When seated at a table or in court, gentlemen remove their hats
  • The only place text-speak is appropriate is in texts
  • Always dress up for Jesus
  • We bestow upon our elders the respect due to them – both in our speech and our actions

Whew! There is so much more… feel free to address them.

But this shit right here is what had me thinking about the appropriateness of things…

trump connway

 

 

 

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