Showing posts from January, 2012

It's Never Enough. Let's Celebrate Every Touch

In the beginning, it seemed to happen effortlessly. The excitement of new love brought us both to another world, in another time. Slowly, that changed, as things tend to do. The love was still there, but the end didn't happen to come so quick. I think I've gotten it back though. I pay more attention. I allow for vulnerability. I give her time.
Last night was beautiful just because I want to please her more than anything. I'm at home inside of her..

Her breath feels hot.
The intensity burns me,
and I let out a gasp in response.
We float, eyes closed above our physical selves.
Every time is just like the first.
Her love and my love,
the unquenchable thirst.
Desire, want, and longing.
She pulls me close.
I hesitate to respond.
This love came easy, but she, does not.
How shall I bring her to her knees?
                                                                             A soft touch and that brown body goes weak.

Nicki Minaj: From Queens to Hollywood

When I was young, the music that I listened to was all based on the people that influenced me most. I had an older cousin that I admired, and followed around like a pet. She influenced my tastes in music, and I can attest my love for Brooklyn rappers to her. She sat by the radio and nodded to Biggie, and as his words flowed from the boom box my little mind scrambled to memorize each line. Then of course there was Jay-Z, a rapper that turned tragedy to triumph, and learned his best lessons in the confines of Marcy projects. As I sat watching her, I believed that only what she listened to was worth hearing. As I got older, I began to try different types of music and continued to add these rhythms to the collage of musical styling that shaped me today.

Yes, music has a huge influence on youth culture, and it had a HUGE influence on me.

Today, Hip-Hop/Rap has taken a turn. I'm not sure if it's a positive or negative turn, but as a music connoisseur, I am always willing to turn up…

The Death of The Finger

While on the way to work today, I was driving behind a woman that wasn't moving as fast as I would have liked, but, I wasn't fretting it I had left home early. It seems I had pissed her off though, and as she pulled to the side she gave me a mouth full of expletives. I didn't know what I had done. I gave her ample room, I wasn't tailgating, and I wasn't in any hurry. Even though I was unsure of my fault I did what any person raised in New York would have done, I gave her the finger. After feeling satisfied with my response, I started thinking about the last time someone gave me the finger. The recesses of my memory failed to pickup on any recent traces of the insult. Then I realized that the finger had lost its meaning.

Did you know that the finger was first used in ancient Greece by Aristophanes? The finger was first used as a crude phallic symbol joke. Then the Roman Emperor Caligula made his subjects kiss his middle finger instead of his hand as a way to subjuga…

The Creativity of Emotion

Last week I was bursting with the need to put pen to paper or fingers to keys. Either way, I felt like writing. Emotion brings out the most creativity, and there is none more appealing than pain. Consider all of the best film, and how the theme of pain, desire or love contributed to the success. Consider the most creative literature. Each and every sentence is pregnant with deep meaning, that sincerely touches the heart.

Recently, I took an interest in love letters or the old-school way of sexting. One particular author that really got me going was James Joyce.

This Irish novelist, and poet was one of the most highly regarded of the 20th century. The heart of all of his work resides in Ireland. He molded each of the characters in his novels after a family member, friend or enemy that was in his life. As most authors his life was sprinkled into his work, and it's obvious that this technique pays off.

Joyce was also known for writing love letters to his beloved Nora. These weren&…

What Are You Made of?

I'm not sure what you're made of, you maybe solid as a rock, or tough as nails. I know what I'm made of though, I'm made of mashed potatoes. My walls are easily penetrated, and the Trojan horse would have had me fooled too.

Since the first post I made concerning a recent breakup, I've contemplated running through a daily diary of getting over such an emotional experience. Then I thought the few people that do read this would just write me off entirely. Sadly, I was unable to control this. Writing right now seems like the best remedy. I'm unbelievably heart broken, and still surprised. Surprised by her action, and my reaction.

I'm not tough. I'm not tough by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, the gooey stuff that you find in a McDonald's chicken mcnugget, yea that's what I'm made of.

I called her...

I have so many questions that No One can answer for me, but her. Then again, I don't even know if I want the answer to any of these questi…

People are in your Life for Seasons: The Break Up

I was told that if I write this out. It will help me cope. I was told that I can't try to reach out because I need to reach in.

Yesterday, my girlfriend broke up with me...

She believes I am inconsiderate, selfish, and that I make no effort.

I could run down all that I feel is wrong with this, but it would make no difference. Instead, I'll write an apology.

After graduating college I felt this urgent need to make something of myself. I didn't want to become a victim of the economy. I didn't want to allow what people said about my choice in study to be the truth. I took action, by being proactive, and making a job out of finding a job. However, during this time I believed all that mattered was me. There was nothing more important than getting on my feet, and becoming all that I want to be.

From time-to-time, people around me would shock me back into the world that included everyone else because for a short while I was in my own world. She was something I didn't conside…

The Elephant in the Room

To wed or not to wed? That is the question.

I'm sitting in my cubicle making some last minute edits before I submit some work, and a group of 20 year old girls (my contemporary) walk in the office. They are surrounding one co-worker that was recently proposed to in JFK Airport. Her finance, set up the proposal with all of her family and friends right before they boarded the plane for Thailand. They are all beaming with joy, and with hope. Hope that someone, someday will ask them to marry them in such a public display of affection. These 20 something year old women all have the same fears, and dreams. Fear of being unmarried or without love, and dreams of finding that one to "complete" them.

Then there's me totally uninterested in the proposal, but absorbed with our close age range, yet distance in interests. I feel like an alien. I'm unsure if it's because of my sexuality or my lax attitude on marriage and relationships. Either way I suppose the whole thing sh…

First of 2012

I got a new job. It's with a talent marketing company. I'm doing Search Engine Optimization again. It seems that first, horrid, internship has netted me more money than any other.

Imagine that.

I've been blogging for someone else lately. It's paid though so there's nothing of me in the content. Just my shell. It's probably the business shell that flakes off whenever I enter my car to leave work. I feel it fall off as I turn the key to start the engine. Then I become myself again, and by then I no longer want to look at a computer screen.

Is that what comes of it? Manufactured words that have no passion. No, I try to be as creative as possible. Either way, it'll do. For now...

I let go of something. I let go of a dream. I let go of something I created in my own mind. Inception of my own dreams. I. Let. Her. GO!


Apologies, I'm talking in hieroglyphs. Till next time...