Tag Archives: God

Outlived Convictions


Over the past few years I’ve been redefining every aspect of my life.

Out of tragedies come blessings unseen and unexpected. Things that I could think up is nothing compared to what life, the universe and God could give me.  I watch every aspect of my existence unfold like a pretty origami.

I whisper, it’s okay to be like water.

Form only to be formless again.
Give up the concrete.

All the little things add up.

Like leaving people and situations that no longer serve me.  It’s amazing how much I kept due to systems, two-way arrangements and outlived convictions.

It’s crazy how much one single person can be a parasite plaguing your life because they made it all about themselves.  Those people I had in my life who took up space and rarely asked, “How are you doing?  How is your mood?  Do you need help with anything?  Is that person, place or thing serving you?”

I enjoy unfriending people I outgrew and who I no longer share the same thought patterns and commonality with.  Particularly, the atheists.

I love creating boundaries with whomever I’m dealing with currently.  I don’t think enough people do this.  It’s very liberating, and time is short to deal with too many things that weigh the shoulders like anvils.  For too long I lived with a heart and mind of steel.  Always, tough, guarded and heavy when the soul needs to feel light to explore freely.

Ah, and to lighten the load further.  I love throwing old clothes away that no longer suit my frame or non-gym mentality.

And would you believe me if I say, I learned many of my new self-care habits from observing my sweet cat.  The way she grooms herself numerous times a day in meditation.  The way she pulls on her nails when she knows they’re detaching because they stopped serving their purpose.  The way she loves herself.

How many people do you know practice self-care?

Personally, I don’t know many.  The people I know are too busy looking for instant gratifications, the next editor app to make themselves appear more beautiful than what they’re not while others are taking drugs trying to escape their own jails and hells.

In treating myself with more love, care and concern, it has allowed me to heal and move past some of my emotional, physical and mental trauma.  It allows me to become hyper-aware when others, including situations are trying to disregard my care simply by trying to take advantage of me in some way.

I’m always surprised by others and how callous they are.  Like how they don’t see the fine line between respect and disrespect, compliments as opposed to insults, caring versus being indifferent.

I wonder about politeness – and is it even real?  Or is everyone just pretending to give something just so they can get something back in return?

These days I’ve learned how to speak and express more whereas before I would write everything down on paper and express myself through emails.  There were times when people who’ve met me didn’t like me very much in the beginning because I was a mute.  I was a very content mute because I love observing.  Nowadays, I’ve found some satisfaction in communicating and volunteering random information with others.

I like that I bloomed in many ways.  I used to think that being vulnerable and open was being weak.  I guess, perhaps I was vulnerable and open with the wrong people.  I realized that with my continual kindness and personal growth, I can be strong by being soft and gentle, too.


Enigmatical Rind

The days speed. 
I drop into time and I can feel the immediacy of eternity. 

How many times have I been on the same ride?  How many times have I been on this highway and saw the same lights?  It’s like the world has a record on queue and things don’t shine the way they used to.  I asked the sun to come out mother, but she’s gone, like you.  Her rays aren’t the same.  The only thing she sends out these days is a haze that makes everyone in the world sick and drained. 

Everyone I know is deficient of Vitamin D yet everyone talks about the myth of protein shortage.  I used to wonder about the setting, about what’s important.  But now I don’t because everything’s distorted.  What was an apple then becoming an orange the day after?  What is it that really matters?  And what are they spraying in our skies?  Who are the ones that take care of the bad guys when it’s only the bad guys who wins the prize? 

No one’s protected on Mother Earth, mother.  And this isn’t to confuse my faith in God, but those who govern.  I interrogate our air, wind, water and gravity.  What’s the strategy?  There’s an invisible war.  Do I know which side to fight for?  There’s a toll bearing down on our fortunate souls.  I know people are cold with their corpulent goals.  Can you feel the stain of karma?  Can you feel the wane of your timer?

Time’s revealing everything from the assembly line to the enigmatical rind.


There’s Always a First Bad Impression

I observed you for hours from Friday night straight into Saturday night.

We were vampires forging the time to our destinies. Breaking rules to exceptions with formidable decisions we made a year in advance but never embarked on. God had us in a bubble of safety and the universe gave way to our paths of delight, pleasure and bonding.

Yet I observed how your hand gestures changed from the beginning of light to dark, a defensive mechanism of instinct and worry between deals, friends and men in wall-street suits positioning themselves on corners like the boys in blue. Or how your crinkly grimace became hood, weathered with slight evil vengeance that became unspoken about, how your aura became vicious, distorted on reactions and careless as if I ceased to exist by your hip, how your walk became street as a globetrotting thug.

I know you as the heartwarming, charismatic personal trainer at work. The reserved man. The one everyone loves to fall in love with, the one who goes out his way to brighten and help other people’s day. Mr. Correct, Calm and Collective. The myriad of mysterious demeanor. Where are you and who was I with tonight?

I’m on the other side of the spectrum, noticing your alcohol intake, reloading on shots, no longer coasting like last weekend. I’m to overextend myself and hold you down, play the obedient role, head above water, which doesn’t copy but folds their hands, a well-trained student to remain sober and eye the spectacle of a grieving sloppy man, boisterous, foolish with fuckery, loud and embarrassing. Who are you? I’m picking up on your hints of onion layers now.

Where is that other guy I know?



I love a man who writes me poetry because I’m narcissistic and I believe in God because of this.
I wish I could hold on long enough to the woman I’ll never know tomorrow yesterday.

The future impairs people because of technology.
It is modernization that makes us feel old.

Right now I’m gargling air in my mouth missing the feel of a penis.
Swirls and swirls of tongue bathe on a suede wand.  There is something calm about oral sex.

There is something about letting it all hang out:  neurosis, guts and breasts.
A freedom like taking control of your blog and skipping the rhyming of poetry.


The Pull Of It

And when I start low…

Arms fully extended, my heart crows, I psyche my mind full blast and tell myself plenty:  I’  AM the best of the best among hundreds, thousands and millions that light the universe of their energy.

My inspiration’s magnified by how I want to be perceived, by what admiration many will take to me and my personal philosophy on Training Life’s University. I take deep breaths as if I’m about to dive in the phantom famished mouths of merry-land and water. I feel my heart racing with trouble and in this instance I secretly warn my muscles: I’m out to slaughter!

This in turn, fuels the adrenaline, endorphins, angst and anxiety rush. For a moment I’m flustered during a tickle of my cheeks blush. And I must enter into this planned: Believing I’m a warrior, believing I’ AM making it to the tops of the Rocky Mountains of which I ultimately desire. I’m on fire. I’m on fire. I’m FIRE!

And I pull, not lift.

And my arms are taking me to new heights. I swear, for an instant, I see my aura glow beautifully like the Northern Lights. And I contract my biceps intensely.  I imagine them first fetal, curled in a tight ball with an energy that are broken from bounds for this rep and all the other reps that come after the first. Completely immersed.

My grip is just right. Not loose. Not tight. It’s rather neutral, so as my forearms don’t tempt to steal the Lats workload. I inhale and go with an intuition flow. I, now, feel the stretch from the fiber beings, the pull of my abdomen tenses like those African sisters who once braided my hair and drew cat-eyes on my face.

In this moment I allow glory to rain on this bliss of grace.

My rectus abdominis flexes and engages without a conscious nod. I’m weightless, limitless, given way to pure freedom. In this, I’ve found God. I’m orgasmic, for my anterior, medial and posterior delts, shoulder blades and all the Back muscles in between are taking me on an air-ride, a pull-up continental plane exercise.

With all this I have my eyes on the prize.


Truth Foreplay

I get tired of having the same conversation and knowing I’m not going to get anywhere by showing, demonstrating, pinpointing, stating, referring, linking and whatever have you to this word called:  Foreplay.  It’s pretty basic stuff.  All one has to do is keep keen and consider all notions and stylize them into brilliant state of the art masterpieces.  Sounds difficult already, doesn’t it?

The only thing making it difficult are the men who choose to live and listen to what other men have to say about foreplay.  HELL, most women are still trying to figure out what foreplay is because they never received it in the first place.  *Questions:  Where’s my imaginary gun?*  *shoots brains*  To give it to you straighter than a Grey Goose Label:  Foreplay isn’t something you do to get sex.  Foreplay isn’t a manual or God‘s blueprint to get vagina.  Foreplay isn’t a guarantee or a free pass to getting any creampies.  Foreplay has nothing to do with sex!  PERIOD!  I don’t care what you agreed to when you were younger.

Foreplay is something only real men partake in, to make sure they’re ahead of the enterprise at all times.  Foreplay’s about being a magician and knowing when and how to wield the magic wand so that everyone is satisfied with the game called Life.  Foreplay’s marketing.  Foreplay’s status.  Foreplay shall always be funky fresh and innovative.  Why?  Because this allows the wages to be place high due to your hard work, million gifted and honed abilities!  Those skills first being:  Time, Effort, Dedication, Discipline, Art, Seduction, Wisdom, Experience and by far.. Intuition.. all rolled into one has brought nothing but your best foot forward, your finer character and confidence forward.  That’s foreplay.

Many men lack foreplay because:  1.  They aren’t confident (and if I were a man it would be hard to be confident. ;))  2. They believe foreplay involves getting sex.  3.  The lack of dedication to studying women as a whole is lacking.

And there are no excuses except that most men would rather watch hours of television (that by the way gives you billions upon billions of wrong way and impressions to go about foreplay just so the system can benefit from humans and their emotional turmoils), play hours of video games and prefer studying the plays on the next Football game.  (Oh, this sounds a lot like men just want to play and not put in any effort?  😉 )  So rather then men take the time to study the know how’s and efficient approaches to getting what they ultimately desire:  A woman.

So many men around the world would rather be comfortable and not shed any ridicule, rejection, embarrassment or humiliate themselves in front of THEMSELVES!  Instead they rather be comfortable in their comfort, under their parents comfort abode, watch comfort porn and have comfort sex with their comfort hand. Hey, listen, don’t bitch, complain and whine to me about why you’re so lonely and will be alone for the rest of your life.  I mean, you gave all that shit up for Comfort.  What else could be wrong? 😉