A frolic in my renderings – On perception and perspective!


 

Unscrambled thoughts.

Unattached feelings.
This is how I am.

Who am I? An overthinker?

I’m an overthinker of the worst kind, totally detached and that’s how I tend to see the world, people, everything around me. I don’t speak from feelings. In all my years of life, no matter how many times I explain this, those who have met me can’t grasp it. I’m beginning to understand why. They are not like me. People view others on the prism of who they are and their own understanding.

Roll eyes.

INTJ stare!

Gulp, gulp!

Insert total annoyance there. Yep! Feelings! These quickly replaced by WTF! “I don’t care anyhow.” I’m bothered by folks tiptoeing in my thoughts. I’m so self absorbed, so lost in words and thoughts when they come to me with assumptions, objections, denial or obsfucation, initially these prompt further inquiry but then annoyance sets in.

Because I am the way I am I tend not to take things literally. I do “not” take anything at face value. Yes, I will go into social mode, do what must to acknowledge whatever it is, but best believe my mind is running a mile a minute trying to perceive all angles, even those the other is completely oblivious to. Well, until I highlight it of course. 😁

 

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And so it goes that after I post this thought above on my IG, someone questioned that I’m private, extremely private. Now I’ll give you a glimpse if you can even grasp this much. Think about this: if you believe what I post is all of me and makes me public, or you know men anyone who posts anything on social media, then we are not as complex a being as humans are. People are complex. Most do what they do for a reason. It’s often more calculated than we give them credit for.

Even the Kardashians are private people. Chew on that!!

Do you get it? Maybe not! Because someone shares pics of their children does this make them so public that you feel you know everything about them and that because you hide the fact you have 100 kids by ten different mothers, you’re so private. Are you ashamed or being private?

Read this: The level of privacy is defined by what’s left out, the unknown. Many who can’t be open about what is insignificant or magnify everything about their lives to be more than it really is, lack confidence in who they are. We are all private beings. Some are more comfortable in their skin than others so they share the bits they feel comfortable with. Just because you’re not comfortable sharing pics of your children or your spouse doesn’t make you more private than another?

You may object depending on what side of the spectrum you fall. I get it. No judgement on my part. It’s just a fact. If you hide every bit that you are it’s because you can’t handle the glare. You’re frail, fragile. Fragility causes you to be secretive, attributing strength or a higher level of moral code by believing being secretive ahem private is code for higher moral code, that you’re oh so better and calculating than others who can, are able to share whatever and be okay under the lenses of everyone’s perception. It doesn’t make them any less private about what they deem private does it?

Philosophical me I guess! Let’s agree on these definitions shall we:

“Privacy: the state or condition of being “FREE” from being disturbed by other people.” I removed observed. One can observe yet not truly see, or understand, right? 😆

“Private: belonging to or for the use of one particular person or group of people only.”

“Calculating: acting in a scheming and ruthlessly determined way. To compute, estimate, plan, devise, carefully think about and planning actions for selfish and improper reasons.”

Yep! Don’t let us fuck with your head with what’s on social media. Take a chill pill will yah! Stop believing everything you read. Geez, Louisie!!

We get a glimpse of others’ thoughts, what they share, it’s more so we can add to this bucket of “perspectives” that life gifts us with. It’s to create awareness or bind us to this whole thing called life. The human experience is so different for each person. Enjoy it, do not confine it to your sole understanding.

Shalom!

 

I won’t tell you this!


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The older I get, the scarier it becomes. I’ve been holding the fort on my own far too long. The kids are leaving soon. We’ve moved so often and I am disconnected. What they say is true you know. You make friends when you’re young and then grow with them. If you’re lucky that is. I lost my friends at the same time my marriage went asunder. I haven’t been able to connect that much with so many since, though I do love the one true friend I do have. We are over ten years apart, some negotiations had to be made and she lives far away from me.

Despite the distance, we manage to see each other at least once a year and speak a few times a week, for hours. I’m thankful for her. I really am. I’m thankful for my male friends as well, but… There is a but with male friends. Most men who are your friends have difficulty navigating emotional connections. Yes, they may love you, care for you but once they have a woman it just won’t or can’t be how it used to be. You will feel and know you’re only getting a piece of what you’re used to getting. They can’t help it. Their partners won’t allow it and if they love her, truly, they won’t jeopardize that over you. And you should know that too, accept it. After all, how many women would be comfortable with their men having extremely close platonic female friends! We think it’s an oxymoron. Most men can’t and the honest ones would tell you that as well that if they get a chance they will sleep with that friend in a second. Rarely has that line not been crossed in the past or the thought of crossing it never crossed their minds. They are men, heterosexual men at that! They’re wired to their little head. It takes many years, lots of maturity and experiences to veer their attention to the mental over the physical. Though I have a few, they can’t be there for me in ways I’d need their support.

As the years go by, it’s getting lonelier and lonelier. Time is passing and my days are being emptied of duty. I am busier though, go figure. I’m holding two jobs to make p foe the best job I’ve ever had. I barely have time to breathe or think. I can’t see my kids as I wish, they are too busy to want to anyway. They are teenagers. A mom is there but not needed. They’re delving into the world, filled with possibilities and I must learn to let them, let them go, learn, get hurt, trust I’ve done a great job and their parting, they will look back knowing I’m there and I’ll always love them.

I won’t tell you how these changes don’t amount to anything that feels good, that’s for my good. It’s a thing, another change I must live through as I keep asking myself “what’s the alternative? Is this it? After ten years? All this praying and fasting? For this? Is this all there really is? Why is this worth going through? What’s the alternative?”

I’m happy I’ve been busy. The great news: I don’t have time to overthink. I’m too bust going through the motions of survival to ponder. In the few seconds a week I’m not busy, I am numbing myself to the feeling of failure, despise, anger and disappointment I’m trying to not overtake my mind. I know, I’m angry. I am hurt. I am so disappointed and feeling so ashamed. Worse, I’m feeling I shouldn’t be feeling this way which then brings on a sense of guilt. I have too big a conscience. When you do, you’re cornered between accountability and guilt.

On the bright side I keep telling myself, surely it can’t get any worse than this! I say it in disbelief but as a mantra, a prayer, a yearning. I’m ashamed I still want what is good, what is better. I should have learned by now that prayer begets not a thing nor does fasting wishing, yearning, begging, working. God, the universe at play and I’m just a pawn. I’m caught between good and evil. My greatest asset and Achilles heel: the will to win.

I’m an idiot aren’t I? How can you win at a game you don’t know the rules to or did not create? I want to curse so bad. I’m back at being good aka trying not to you know.

Tell me it’s all a joke! I won’t tell you or ask though. It’s aight. I’m gonna be okay. I think. Dear God! Don’t tell me it will get worse than this! When will it ever get better!!!

I had sex! Finally!!!


 

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Let me tell you what I do when I’m feeling lonely or don’t know whether I recall I can still feel or I’ve forgotten how it feels to be held, I have sex.

Yep! After all these years, I felt like having sex or something along that line. I was like: “Girl, do you even remember what that was like?” As usual I was disappointed. Idiots Boys will be boys and girls will be girls I guess. He’s banging away, hurting my uterus and I’m hurting pushing him away. He swears I’m screaming because it hurts. I want to make him think it’s true so I can be done quickly enough to yell at myself for doing this to myself again. The end. That’s it! Badda bing, badda boom, it’s over. I’m back in my corner of the world and I have no idea where he’s at.

I remember the last time I dated hoping it will be more. More, as in I like you, you like me, we will be grown and respectful about this and so on. Well, needless to say, we were not on the same wavelength. In fact, many men nowadays aren’t, especially black men. Le huge sigh! They’d rather lie their way into your panties. Anywho, I won’t rehash this. After a few of these  nonsensical connections, and wasteful period of my younger years, I gave up on the traditional route.

I’d get sex when I want to and save these men the bullshit they spew. Mostly save me from the lies. It’s less cumbersome. First time, I wanted to be held. Second time, I had forgotten how to and needed a reminder. Recently, I must say this guy made me feel. I had yet to meet any man who turned me on by his presence as much as he did. Because he made me feel, tingling all over, I wanted to hold on to that feeling you know. God! He brought me back to my early thirties, right after my divorce when I believed the world was filled with nice men who wanted to meet a wonderful woman like me etc. This kid, yes kid! I’ve only been with one man older than me in these past ten years as a divorcee. These kids swear they are mature. Idiot me, I believed them. Hmmm, yeah there are exceptions. No! I’ve met one exception. It’s true, age is not just a number though it can be. I digress.

Imagine! In seven years I had not met one man who turned me on just by sitting across from me. It was all physical. I’m usually turned on by brilliance. I love smart men, poetic, creative men. But this man, sat next to me and I felt my whole body respond. I was shocked and elated. I wasn’t dead! I could still feel. What a gift! That should have been enough! Wanting more never amounts to much around my way. But I’m stubborn. I’m a Virgo. An INTJ at that! We don’t know how to say yes to unknowing. I wanted to hold on to that feeling!

Kid took me to a motel! Geez!! That should have been a clue! A motel!!! I haven’t been to a motel since I was a young buck, nineteen! Yuck! So the enchantment turned to disenchantment. But it’s not the end. I learned a few new things. I can still feel and be physically attracted to a man. I delved in possibility. The second piece of wisdom I gathered is that many women and I’m guilty, allow men to believe banging your uterus is pleasurable. Double yuck!

How do you tell a man who’s busy sweatily hammering on: “yo dawg, this doesn’t feel good, it hurts?” Time to get a man I guess. Then, it would be his job to learn a few things about me. Do they exist? Do men who want to be settled with one woman, who is honest about who they are, smart, single as in not craving for another while playing with your feelings, are unmarried, not living with their baby mama, sexy exist? I haven’t found any in ten years, forgive me if I’m asking!

PS: I think I need another few years to recoup from bad sex, non? A woman I admire on FB wrote recently that she doesn’t give herself to anyone, she takes sex seriously. Girl please! You think others don’t take sex seriously? Give me a break!! We all want the kind of sex we dream about, but many don’t find the one they can have it with. We all want the best of everything, most often than not we settle. That’s why we have dreams, goals. If we all had what we wanted or work for, we will have nothing to dream about. Do you stop eating because you don’t have caviar! Do you give up on sex just because you don’t have anyone? Had I done that, I would have not had sex in ten years! I haven’t met one good candidate, aka true boyfriend material in all these years. Do folks really believe a good man is around the corner for every woman? I must be blind then because I am aware of a lot of women who are single and lonely. What’s a woman to do who can’t find a good man but likes sex or enjoys being held to do? It’s a trend I hear nowadays, become bisexual? Hmmm Do tell! Life iccurs between wanting and getting, Life is in the dash.

Mercy!!

Mercy me!

What I’ve been missing!


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I’ve been in a high for the past few days. I mean I feel close to my old self again. I’m not sure where it’s all coming from the chemical inducement or decline. Whatever it is I’m thankful. God has touched me with a taste of how I used to be though it came at a cost. He peeled my skin, though I’m not who I used to be or even comprehend life the way I believed it to be, I feel reborn, whole again, almost me but a somewhat better.

My pastor’s recent sermon title was: “when nothing is happening, something is happening”. This is the best way I could define it. I’ve been so low emotionally, tumbling, on this down dark tunnel and out if the blue, my senses came alive. This light all around me and everything feels different. The darkness or its causes stop to matter, they fade in the background of my awakening. I’m feeling like a woman, feminine, sexy, complete, powerful but I am assuming way. I have no expectation of anyone or any one thing. I just be. Yes, poorly stated as can be but yes, “I be.”

Dancing does that to me and I had jot been out dancing in far far too long. The rhythmic power of a heart dancing under the moonlight. It was beautiful, magnetic, vibrant. The moment was perfect in an instant. I haven’t stopped since. It still feels like I’m flying.

I feel good, really, really good and I don’t wish to lose that feeling at all, not for anyone or any one thing. My patients feel it too as I smile through all their complaints and manage to turn them rom unhappy babies to satisfied customers.

Mercy!

Life is feeling oh so so beautiful!

Shalom! Namaste! All the good be unto you and yours!

 

PS:  I always said if someone says they love me and do not take me dancing then they truly do not love me. How can you not want to make me happy? 😕😋

Happiness my ass!


 

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Some folks see me as negative when I say I can’t be happy when I’m broke, or hit at peace or more so when I’m in a place I feel safe or everything is working towards me achieving and being successful? Why is that? When bombs, tornadoes and hurricanes come through is it happiness you’re feeling? Do tell!

Should we not want more out of life? When has it been bad for anyone to want more of anything that will make them feel good, successful, at peace, joyful? Isn’t that why we strive to be better in sports, in our relationships, as human beings and to seek completion in whatever we start with? So why do we fake the funk, push the idea of happiness as a state we can maintain despite lack? What is happiness exactly? Google and Webster can tell us. However, how we define happiness comes from what we aspire to, a state of being no one can define for us. What some call happiness, I refer to as acceptance, contentment. And what I refer to as happiness they believe is how they live everyday when they tell themselves they decide to be happy. Happiness like love isn’t something we decide to do. It’s a combination of wants, chemistry, summed in the unexplainable.

When I was married and my husband would be at the door, I would jump and rush to the door. I would be so happy to see him. There was this dance I used to do and a song “girls, daddy’s hoooome”. On and on I would go, so glad he came home to be with us. I would go on about my day and sit on his lap until he begged to go shower or eat. He said he noted things were off between us when I stopped doing that. Happiness is genuine. It borders on elation, a sensation no one can maintain for too long a period. It isn’t I wasn’t happy the other days, I was joyful being there in the midst of the ups and downs. Joy is a constant, it is saying “shit could be worse, I will do with I have”. To be joyful is to accept your sort and smile through it all. Happiness though is a gift, it truly is. No one can be happy all the time. Come on! It irritates me to hear how many think about happiness. Aaaaargh. Like addicts they seek it every day, a burst, a hit. That’s why they preach it at every corner when what they’re selling is a lie.

There are degrees to this thing, first is acceptance, then comes joy, favored at time with happiness and if lucky enough, a few times in our lives we will know elation, ecstasy, the ultimate of all positive sensation.

We are different beings, thus the different views, philosophy and understanding. We enjoy being unique but find it difficult accepting differences in others. Well, I seek to. I’m fascinated by differences. Yet despite that fact I must admit some of our differences can be quite irritating and upsetting when we try to shove them down other people’s throats, That’s what I appreciate about the biblical God! A God who bestowed the gift of will so he can be chosen, picked amongst all, selected. That’s why we have willpower. Hmmm the thought just occurred to me, how do proponents of evolution explain “willpower, personality, differences.” We never stop learning do we?

PS: if you’re one of those happiness is of your own doing people, please save me the lecture. My eyes can’t roll anymore. 🤣

 

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