Plop,plop, fizz, fizz. Oh what a relief it is!

Don’t know if you remember but in the movie Lean on Me, Morgan Freeman portrayed Joe Clark, a hard nosed, no nonsense principal trying to turn around a high school. In an early scene, Sams, a student who was kicked out goes back to tell Mr. Clark he made a mistake and the kid he (Clark) is referring to isn’t him (Sams). Clark takes him to the roof. Sams smokes crack and Clark is telling him that he’s killing himself by smoking crack, he’s just doing it slowly. In Clark’s opinion “if you want to kill yourself, don’t f*** around with it, do it expeditiously. Jump!” Hee hee, oh the emphatic truth that rests within that harsh, unfeeling, unnerving yet necessary statement.

With reference to the statement, I’m not referring to suicide, I’m referring to…whatever. I’ll give you 2 scenarios.
#1. It’s hard being a cheerleader, especially for someone who seems to have lost all hope, desire and will to live. You all know someone who, at one time or another, has gone through or is going through something and they see no joy around them. Everyday is a Pep Rally for you, in that you are charged with the task of keeping their spirits up, helping them see the bright side of things, willing them to keep pushing, being the life that they seem to have lost inside. After a while, it gets old. You’re like, damn, can you breathe for yourself or must I do that for you too? The harsh reality of it is, and I know because God and I have had these types of conversations, you do want to say… look, if you want to give, go ahead and give up but be quick about it because I’m going to need all the time I can get to get over this and move on with my life, so if your going, get the f’ on. My aunt is a prime example. I don’t talk to her as much because quite frankly and sadly, she is without joy. She has nothing and I mean nothing positive to say about anything. I pray for her everyday. I pray that she will see the grace that has been bestowed upon her by having a daughter who loves and cares for her 25/8. She got upset with me one day because I wouldn’t leave my house to bring her some lettuce and tomatoes (mind you, she lives with my cousin/her daughter) and made a crazy statement, something like, she was just going to starve to death because nobody gave a damn about her. I said ok, I’ll be sure to bring them (the lettuce and tomatoes) to your funeral and hung up. I used to feed into her, but not anymore. I play crazy right along with her and life, at least for me, is no longer a Groundhog Day Pep Rally. Yes; I appreciate you, I love you and all that goes along with it but hell if I’m going to 2,4,6,8 all day everyday, you can miss me with that.

#2. Someone I know, notice I didn’t say friend, is constantly and no, I’m not exaggerating, talking about what they are going to do. Getting ready to… quit, make a move, get organized, start a business, run, jump, yada, yada, yada. It gets particularly lengthy when they are going through something and they are professing to the world that they are going to “give it to God”. We know that last part never happens because a day or 2 later, they are STILL talking about whatever it was they were going to give God. I want to say soo bad, would you PUH-LEEEZE STFU about getting ready. If you were waiting on a ride or something, you’re a** would be left because you always getting ready. What are you going to do on Judgment Day when it’s time for you stand and give an exact account of your time here on Earth, tell St. Michael hold on, you getting ready?

Point is, whatever it is, do it with purpose. Living, dying, working, quitting, whatever INGing it is, DO IT and DO IT with purpose. That clip of Lean on Me is both humorous and frighteningly sad.
___
Moliere said “we die only once and for such a long time”
I pondered this as I sat in my meantime of death

The sum of pills meant to induce death over a few hours
Civilized, slow, clean, quiet and peaceful

The sum of bullets meant for loading into the gun, inducing death instantly
Messy, quick, powerful, loud

The sum of the noose, meant to induce death by choking, breaking the neck
Clean, slow, painful, quiet

If I had the use of my body, I would throw it out the window
for it has not performed to my level of satisfaction.
Operator error and there is no warranty.
I came with no instructions, I did the best I could
The bible confused me, people rejected me
Why must the process take so long?

Who knew doing something once, would be the sum of my life. (10/4/10)
______
Now I must go do penance for my language. Despite those who say people who use foul language have a limited vocabulary, sometimes it takes an expletive to drive a point home.

GetMended Ya’ll. 🙂

Now we’re talking and cooking with gas

No, I haven’t neglected you and I hope your thread isn’t unraveling. For Lent, I’ve given up some things and scaled back on others, my writing doesn’t fall into either category (my notebooks are full) but my posting/online time has been scaled back, so forgive this noble scribe, at least until Holy Saturday (after Good Friday).

Don’t know if you’ve ever read The 5 Love Languages but, I’ve always known/felt that if you aren’t being loved the way you want to then you aren’t really being loved. I remember a woman once told me that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you. I disagreed then and disagree now. Yeah, it kinda does mean they don’t love you because loving, whether romantic or platonic (our friendships) is a choice and if the way you choose to love someone isn’t acceptable to them, then, sorry, that ain’t love. My friendships are important because I don’t like too many folk, so my heart friends, know, at least they should know, my love language. Those who don’t, well, don’t be surprised to find yourself “poppin tags” on something you bought, that was given to me by you.

Love, like working (unless you hit the lotto), clothing, food, hair, etc., is a choice. How and who you love is so much of a choice that some of us prefer to love at Golden Coral instead of Ruth Chris. Aside from family, if someone is in your life, they are there by some choice you made. If they are important to you, make the choice to love them the way they want to be loved. If you don’t know, find out. Don’t know how, try asking. You’d be surprised what can be accomplished when we open our mouths for something besides complaining, eating and talking trash.

Like ideals and morals, everybody wants everybody else to love the way they do (i.e., the right way – to them) and for the life of me, I cannot understand why people can’t or won’t grasp the fact that what you eat don’t make me shhhh.

Aside from waking up (that is not our conscious choice), life is about choices. If you choose to love someone, love them their way and not yours, or yes, it is the highway.

Bloggers, Rhyme Spitters, Pen-grippers – lend me your eyes?

Since our speech is a reflection of what is going on inside us, as writers, our written word is our speech, so what is going on inside of us? Some innards I read are awesome, and I’m not easily impressed, not that you care, but the old saying of the first line or paragraph grabbing you indicates if you’ll keep reading – that is true for me. I read a piece the other day and it was McDonald’s! When that was written, what was going on inside them? If our “speech” can be checked for clues to our strengths and weaknesses, can a writer be banned for using HGH? If while in this world (and not of it!) the idea is to grow as a human, then a little HGH shouldn’t hurt, right? To grow one needs patience and patience isn’t something some of us have an abundance of, at least I don’t, or didn’t (it’s much better now). Funny thing is, as a writer, I believe we are quite patient. Writing takes time and we do not harvest until the crop is just right. Sentence structure, punctuation, grammar; forming the perfect sentence or paragraph can be a daunting task. Some writers throw everything down and sort it out later. Others are more meticulous; sorting and writing as they go. What does that say about them? I once heard a famous writer say that any writer worth their salt has 2 or more projects going at one time. For me, nothing could be truer, but I now know that it is because having the creative mind that I do, I am unable to be sustained by the mere thought or presence of just 1. 1 – so isolating and yet so strong, for we can only create our masterpieces 1 word at a time. My thoughts are like my breath – constant and unconsciencnable and so as they flow out they must go to the sea on tranquility to rest until called upon to serve. Like souffles, they cannot be disturbed.

My mind is a thrift store; full of new, used, neused, wanted, discarded, wounded, brokenhearted, forgiven, graced, immaculate, unchaste, overflowing, undernourished, disparate, identical, singular, plural, disavowed, disgusted and highly regarded -ings and -isms waiting to be sifted, sorted, shuffled and supported by this thing we call patience.

Thrift store motto is: Miss a day, miss a deal. My mind is a thrift store, if I miss a day of writing, what does that say about me?
and BTW, do you know how much patience it takes to shop in the thrift?. IJS.

Platinum and diamond studded fork… in the road

“And I know that He had something better to do
Than to sit and listen to a brokenhearted fool
Could’ve been saving the world from a tragedy
But instead He was listening to me”
(MJB – Empty Prayers)

This is NOT a soapbox moment, just a hmm, never thought about it that way moment.

I try to find the God/good/joy in everything. I Try. I don’t always succeed because most of the time I’m in my own way, in my own world, wanting to see things the way I want them to be; but even if you don’t believe, we all know that rarely do things look and act the way we want them too. City of Angels, The Adjustment Bureau, — somebody give me another one Saving Grace– movies/TV shows where angelic, celestial, heavenly body creatures masquerading as and interacting with humans all stated the same thing – we humans have FREE WILL, something they cannot interfere with. It’s sorta messed up when you really examine it. There’s a plan for me today. Plan calls for me to eat oatmeal. I get up and eat cereal instead. I felt that I was supposed to eat oatmeal but I was running late. Now when I was eating that cereal, somebody/something was there, watching me eat that cereal, shaking its head because I exercised my free will to eat cereal instead of oatmeal. The shaking of the head is justified because the plan called for oatmeal because it was written that I would have a long day and would not be able to eat around the time I normally did, thus, the oatmeal would sustain me and prevent me from developing a hunger headache – y’all know the kind I’m talking about. As simple as my example is, I think it drives home my point.

We all have Free Will and how and when we chose to exercise it is completely up to us. When the exercise and implementation of Free Will is about to commence, those heavenly/celestial creatures jump back like Cliff Huxtable – hands off, I don’t have nothing to do with what’s about to go down – but I’ll be here to help you through the mess. I rarely read or listen to the news because it is so tragic but that is the state of our society, tragic. I have never lost someone to violence, so I do not and will not for one minute try to say what I would do or how I would feel. I am but an outsider looking in, like the rest of the world, who often asks ourselves, as we stand on the sidewalks and behind cars and around TV screens watching the results of another’s Free Will, where was God?

Maybe like MJB said, He was listening…
to a brokenhearted fool,
a sinner confessing,
a priest, rabbi or pastor bestowing a blessing.

Maybe He was sitting bedside at some hospital, nursing home or hospice. Maybe He was in the middle of the desert watching others exercise the appointed Free Will of another, or maybe, just maybe, He was there and there. Right there, watching. Watching that tragedy unfurl, because He dare not interfere with Free Will. He had nothing better to do because to Him, there is nothing better than listening, comforting and protecting His greatest creation; even if it’s not in the way we think it should be. We humans today are a bit haughty. We have a sense of entitlement and some have it more than others. I know. I’ve asked God where He was and why He let my loved one die, when I needed them. I kept asking but He would never answer me. Then one day, I answered my own question.

Who am I, that I should ask Him to spare that which I love most, when no one did it for Him. What happened to Jesus back then would be considered bullying today. We all need to stop bullying; each other and God.

I stopped asking Him where He was when tragic things happen here on earth because I’m fearful of the day when He will ask the same question of me. Fearful He will question my use of Free Will and point out, matter-of-factly that the exercising of my Free Will is not only my responsibility but yours as well and vice versa (we are our brother’s keeper!) and so to that I will say, if you believe, and I hope you do, or even if you don’t believe, be responsible with your Free Will because I AM NOT going down for you!

“Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me”
(The Fray)

You have some dirt on your forehead

Ash Wednesday:
Today marks the beginning of the Lenten Season and for those of us who practice the time has come to make a sacrifice. Sacrifice something that is pleasing in nature and in an effort to get closer to and obtain favor with God. For you non-believers, most see it as a time to drop a few pounds, but hey, whatever gets you there. There’s a multitude of information about Lent, scripture and etc., but one piece in particular stood out to me. One reading references Isaiah 58:1-12 and notes that fasting that does not lead to works of charity does us no good. When I read the full text – my Bible may have different wording but we all get the gist – it talks about performing compassionate acts for others and dealing with others righteously and learning to love and serve them in healthy ways. That fasting should lead to works of charity and we should not hide from relatives who need us. Well imagine my face twisting @confusedfaced – works of charity, I thought fasting was just about me clearing my body from indulgences that tend to distract me focusing on God. Then as I read a little more and applied my over analytical brain, I began to understand that what good does it do to fast, if it is only for my benefit. Well who else is going to benefit from me giving up fast-food, social media, soda, and any of my make it through the day treats besides me? I guess when you stop focusing so much on yourself and what you don’t have or are missing or focusing on all that you do have, it allows you to see the bigger picture. I won’t lie and say Lent isn’t a difficult season for me because it is. I’m not a foodie, I don’t love to eat but I love the things I eat. My eating habits are poor as it is (according to my trainer, I don’t eat enough, don’t eat often enough and at times eat the wrong things at the wrong times) so this journey will be an adventure. Life got busy and hectic for me and I did not have adequate time to plan for today, thus I slipped up and ate meat today, a no no for Ash Wednesday, so I will do penance and have no meat tomorrow and as always Meatless Fridays, but I’ve taken it a step further with the loosening of my vices (ice cream, my nightly Twix bar – don’t know how I’m going to survive without that) but I’m confident I will be successful. As for charitable acts, I think I do more good than the Salvation Army. The giving of my time, money, talents and anything else I have is always demanded and while at times I can become a bit irritated with the requests (I’m only human) the request is still met, so aside from giving the shirt off my back, not sure how much more charitable I can be, but I’m sure this season will be revealing to me.

Tonight when I arrived home and hurricaned through my mail, house cleaning, recycling, bathing, changing of purses, selecting a wardrobe and all that goes with that and the saying of my rosary, I admit, I felt the need for some charity of my own but I did not complain. And I’m not complaining now. I’ve always know I was a giver, I was born that way (Gaga). I hated it when I was younger. My grandparents would make me take extra lunches to school, or help to pay for a kid who couldn’t go on a field trip, stuff like that and they were always helping someone out in the community. They were givers. The givers like you read about in the news, who would help ANYBODY and it really irritated me because nobody was helping me. Sad to say, the same is true today but, I have a better appreciation for my background and how I grew up now. I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth but I think it was silver plated of high quality. I had everything I wanted and I had an over abundance of love and now I guess the universe is looking for a return on its investment. To whom much is given, much is required. If the things I’m experiencing now is the requirement for what I was given back then, well some of these celebrities better watch out because when their comeuppance is due the requirement is going to be quite handsome and I hope they are in a position to make due.

I’m not ashamed to say that these next 46 days (Sundays are excluded from the Lenten fast) will find me at various points of my best but my most sincere effort will always be there. My best varies from day to day and all I can hope for is that if I make it to tomorrow, that my best will be better than it was the day before. As I write this to say goodnight, I’m habitually reaching in my drawer for my nightly Twix and alas it is not there so I settle for a piece of sugarless gum and cup of water along with a prayer that right after I post this I fall asleep so I won’t scrounge around the house for my hidden Twix bars. I don’t like much but what I like I like and want. Maybe after 46 days, Twix and I will no longer be close friends, but let’s not get carried away, even close friends get back together.

1 down, 45 to go.