Come Closer

Come a little closer
And let me taste your soul.
Let me lick along the lines of
Your intellect and taste what nourishment it yields.
Allow me to caress your pride
Until it stands at attention.
Give me permission to massage your mind
And if only for a moment
Mold it to fit me perfectly.
Grant me passage to knead your tenderness
So that it merges well with my own.
Say it's okay that I gently kiss your grace
So that it never wants to leave.
Say I can nibble on your imagination
And make it sing a happy tune.
Come closer.
Let me experience you.

JUSTICE

The Ugly Truth

I feel really fat and ugly. Actually, I have for quite some time. To anyone who says I'm not justified, tell me that after I walk through a mall I used to turn heads in just a few years ago without getting so much as a "How are you" from the opposite sex. Tell me that after I leave a party and no one tries to get my number. Say that when I see a cute dress but I can't buy it because it's short and my thighs will ruin it. I do have skinny friends who tell me I'm beautiful but I think they say it because they think I will kill myself if I don't hear it and they don't want a poor fat girl's death on their hands. While it is flattering to hear, they aren't men and they don't have to date me. And then it makes them look like assholes when we go places and no one talks to me but they brag to me about all of the men who come at them. I love them but I want to choke those skinny bitches when they do that.

Have you ever noticed that people say the dumbest things when they are supposed to be making you feel good about yourself? They say things like "You're a beautiful person" and then they tell you how smart you are. That is all good but I don't know one man who says, "She weighs more than a baby elephant but she really does look smart". I also never hear them say, "Her face is a disaster but she has a good heart. I think I'll marry her". Men, like women are visual. They may admire these things about you later, but you have to have something that hooks you. You can say all you want that looks don't matter. But no one wants to wake up lying next to a nightmare every morning. No one wants to sound shallow but at the same time, you want to be with someone you find attractive and leave the leftovers to themselves.

I really don't know what my hook used to be nor where I lost it. But I do know that I'm kinda tired of waiting on this fence post, staring down the road, just hoping to catch a glimpse of it as it makes its way back.


JUSTICE

Today I Was Black and Proud

So I had to go to city hall for something this morning. They have done a few renovations and everything isn't where it used to be. I knew that I was looking for a certain place but I can imagine I looked really lost trying to find it. I heard a voice from behind me say "What are you looking for, Sister?" I turned around to see a beautiful Black woman with dreadlocks and smiling eyes. She was about 5'3'' but she stood tall and proud. She wore a business suit but a handkerchief of kente cloth peeked out of its pocket. I told her what I needed and she placed a hand on my shoulder and led me to the office, newly positioned at the end of the hallway. Then she said, "And I want you to have a wonderful day, My Sister". Now none of her words were foreign to me, but what struck me was the way she said them. When she said "Sister" and "My Sister", I felt as though the next thing out of my mouth should have been, "So I'll see you at the house for Christmas, right?" She said it as though the connection between her and I was one that she didn't even have to question. And the fact that she took it upon herself to offer a hand and veered off of her own path to come help me was remarkable. Though I didn't gawk at her, there was something about this aging Black woman with light brown skin, a kente handkerchief, dreadlocks with graying roots, smile lines and a face free of makeup that made me feel beautiful. It was something small, but I feel like I truly met family today.



How about you? When was the last time you felt Black and Proud?

Allah at Ground Zero

So, people are pissed that President Obama is okay with Muslims wanting to build a mosque near Ground Zero. It completely disgusted me when I heard it. But like I always do when something disgusts me, I had a conversation with myself. I asked myself whether or not these bandwagon patriots would be so pissed if Muslims wanted a mosque in any other location. And the answer I came up with was a resounding "YES". It's very rare that people do this with situations of this nature, but let's discuss what their anger is really about. They are not upset that there is a desire to build a place of worship near where such a great American tragedy occurred. They are upset because there is a desire to build a place of worship WHICH IS NOT LIKE THEIR OWN near where such a great American tragedy occurred. It all goes back to Americans fearing and what they don't understand. Never mind the Christian churches down the road from Ground Zero who may or may not be teaching the love of God and righteousness. As long as they never utter the words "Praise be to Allah", they get a free pass.

I had a talk with a random stranger the other day in the mall. I was telling one of the sales reps at a store I regularly buy t-shirts from that I needed to get ahold of another old school Malcolm X tee. The old woman was standing next to me and volunteered her opinion on how she thought Malcolm was way too violent to ever be thought of as a hero. She said Martin Luther King, Jr. was a real hero because he was a man of God and that was the type of hero young people should look up to. I proceeded to point out to her that just as Dr. King was devoted to his religion, so was Malcolm. I also told her that if she was to read the Koran and the Bible, she would find that their teachings are parallel. I said "Martin said God. Malcolm said Allah. Either way, they were both trying to reach divinity and no man on this earth should condemn the next man for doing so in his own way". This just goes to show that people don't chastise others for looking for God. They chastise people for looking for God through their own lenses. There has been enough hate in America already. Like President Obama, I say let them build their mosque. I wish it many blessings. This country was weakened by terrorists who just SO HAPPENED to be Muslim. I guarantee that if Allah was truly in their heads and hearts that day, we would all be singing a different tune.

-Justice

Pardon Me

Pardon me, Friend.
But you and I have known each other forever,
A helluva lot longer than you two have been together.
Why is it a crime after hours of hearing his name
Do you think I would want four more of the same?
It's funny that I'm a hater when you have a man
But when I wanted to talk about mine
You don't understand.
Five months ago when you were all alone
I couldn't pay your lame ass to pick up the phone.
You would sulk. You would moan.
You would make fun of me.
But now the only thing hilarious
Is your hypocrisy.
It's my choice and not me being rude or shife
That I don't want to hear anymore of your so-called
Perfect life.
Just like you did the rest when you had had enough
You'll just find some way to screw this up.
So call me in three months and we will see.
But until then, pardon the fuck outta me.

TK

Kaizen

Now when I got this word tattooed on me a few years back, I know now that I only knew it superficially. "Incremental improvement" seems pretty simple. But it's a series of rabbit holes, Alice. And you always want to be sure to fall down the right ones. It's odd that I type this blog as I sit in the nail shop because it is not at all about physical improvement. The hardest thing to admit, I think, is the fact that you're pretty messed up inside. But it's even harder to get to the business of cleaning up.

I mentioned in my previous blog that I got a new job. I might have also mentioned that the joy over the job does not entirely come from the fact that I am being paid more but from the fact that I get to go to a rewarding job and be human while I do it. I leave each day feeling like I have helped someone. The new job is the end result but I'm not sure I ever told you the most important things that led to it. Being a person who shoots straight from the hip, you can only imagine the honesty of the people I surround myself with. So many of the people I love told me that at my old job, there were pieces of the TK they loved that just weren't there anymore. The suggestion box filled up in those conversations but the talk that sent it brimming was one with my mother. After a particularly trying day, I visited her and she looked at me and said, "You just don't have a spirit anymore. It's like it's all gone". I was done and I knew I had to do better. So I did.

I'm not sure how many people reading either know or care. But I just recently sealed the lid on what was a constant struggle for the man I loved and still love more than any man I have ever been with. Because he is private to the utmost, he would be angry if he read this post. But it's mine, so I'm not really all that concerned. But as much as I love him, I am smart enough to know that if you love and someone and they profess theirs in return A) there should be no problem with the world knowing and B) neither of them should be made to feel like they have to compete for love from the other. After five years of that, I decided I had to love myself more. Now he is still one of the greatest people on earth and one of my very best friends. There were no false pretenses and that might be one thing that made me love him. But the dynamics weren't working in the end. And a part of my incremental improvement was being strong enough to let go. I really don't know that I will ever love or be loved again (or to refer to a previous blog, "put on a new pair of shoes") but I am thankful for the learning experience.

I am also going to have to forgive the ones who have hurt me. That's a jagged little pill for me because we're talking mentally, physically, sexually, emotionally, financially, consciously and subconsciously. And being frank and there being lack of better words for it, I have dealt with some pretty messed us shit. It is going to be difficult to do but I have to keep the wisdom and weed the deeds, so to speak. I don't plan to completely rid myself of all defense mechanisms because I honestly think that's what messed me up in the first place. But I suppose I should use them in moderation.

There is so much to do. If I am ever to be loved again, I have some wounds to nurse. If my magazine, the driving force, is ever going to manifest itself, I have some corners to sweep in my mind. And if I am to love others as I should, I need to deep clean this old heart of mine. I know this isn't going to be easy and it won't happen quickly. But the reason I got it etched into my skin in the first place was because I was sure it was a commitment I would be fulfilling for the rest of my life. Thank you God for the courage to get started.

JUSTICE

Be The Blessing

Most of us pray to God and ask Him to give them things. But you have to ask yourself each day "Have I been the blessing I want to see?" I am never one to preach on things but I do have to say this. Anyone who knows me knows that I just left a job at an OUTSTANDING company but my division was rotting from the inside out. There was too much interoffice drama for things to function properly and I got tired of wondering whether or not I would be brought up on some disciplinary action because of who I befriended or the fact that I didn't "open myself up enough". So, I like so many others in this economy, started praying hard and searching for other options. I had several job interviews and I would be lying if I said I didn't get a little discouraged not to get callbacks on some. I had to say, "Okay Lord. I know it's time to back up and change my approach. I have been going for the big names because simply working at those companies would make me distinguished. Maybe I need to reel it in and look a little smaller". It's funny but it was one of the very people I had been reprimanded for befriending who led me to my answer. Not only did I find a new job quickly, but I found a job that allows me to bless others. Yes, my building is smaller and there are no high, glass windows and there aren't billions in assets under management. But we are in the business of helping people find work in these hellish economic conditions. I now get to look into the eyes of that person who has been laid off and say "I found something for you and you get to take home a paycheck next week". Not only that, I also get the pleasure of saying "You aren't a temp anymore. You are now a full fledged employee." I am in a place where I not only have a title but I know the person down the hall, even though he is my manager, respects me and values me as a vital part of the organization. I figured out where I went wrong. It was in asking God to give me a new great job instead of asking him to put me in a place where I could be a blessing to others at the same time as allowing Him to bless me. I have breathed and rested easier in the last few weeks than I have in the last couple of years. My job is fast-paced and there is much to learn to do it effectively but my heart and mind are now at peace with what I do. I have always been a person who liked helping others and I thank God for placing me where I can do that. I also thank Him for placing me amongst good people who truly care about others. My mind has been calm enough to write and focus a little more on my magazine (which I plan to use as a medium to get those who need to be known known)and I get off an hour earlier than I used to (never saw a point at my old job because I was mentally exhausted afterward anyway). So I say to anyone who just so happens to read this, please be the blessing you want to see. Hallelujah and it is so.

JUSTICE

Slick Talk

Containment, Tony Hayward? Is that what you just said? How about you push that word "containment" toward all of those fish and other marine life that are dying from your product. Better yet, why don't you tell that to my people in New Orleans. You know the ones who make their livings fishing and shrimping in those otherwise beautiful waters. Or how about their wives and children at home who have to run from your oil like it's a rabid dog in the neighborhood. I mean the rain is on its way and as though the destruction of hurricane season isn't enough, you are okay with adding another worry. You shrug on tv and give a "well, at least this and this didn't happen" approach. My kings and queens of New Orleans are just getting their kingdom back from Katrina. But you are cool with the sick pelicans on Bird Island and the empty and discolored fishing waters. You're cool with hiding behind the skirt of the U.S. Government and sidestepping the questions we ask.

Now I do live in Florida but I am pissed about the "Hey, no oil here" approach this state is taking too. I want Florida to get off its ass and help Louisiana to stay as clean as we are. Use some of the money you're dumping into commercials to say that we're fine so that people will come here to add to the aid there. WE ARE THE COAST. And even though state lines divide us, we should have an allegiance.

BP needs to live by the playroom rules that all of our mother's taught us. "If you mess it up, you clean it up." Save our coast and wetlands.

JUSTICE

Laila

So I saw a little girl with her father today and the dialogue really warmed my heart. There we were just sitting in the theater and she kisses him on the cheek in the middle of the movie and says, "I love you, Daddy". He says, "I love you too, Laila." She smiled and said, "But do you know why?" When he asks why, she says, "Because you were the best when I was born and you still are now". And instead of letting it go, he says, "You were the best the day you were born and you get better every day". That was wonderful for more than just the obvious reasons but Laila hit on something big. There are far too many fathers that are great when their kids are born but give up the race before they reach the finish line. It is father's like my big brother and Laila's dad that are the exceptions. Each day, good fathers create opportunities to give their children reasons to love them. And most importantly, they never stop. I can only hope to marry not only a great man, but one God has built to become a great father.

(Don't forget Father's Day on June 20.)

JUSTICE

Ya' Know It's Funny.......

.....how when you start to take some of the biggest steps in your life, the people you always thought would be behind you are the ones with their feet planted firmly in a place just close enough to throw shade on you.

.....how the people who JUST became attached (sometimes literally) yesterday after years of loneliness hit you with the "That's why you're single" dissertations.

.....how the guys who always say they want a "classy girl" break their necks to sneak a peak at the carbon copy sluts.

.....how girls have such a long list of requirements for their men but such a short one for themselves. I mean, why does he have to be smart, caring and make at least $100k when you get to be selfish, bitchy and wait for him to pay your way?

.....how we bleed ourselves to love those who don't deserve it but ignore those who do.

.....how people who have the ugliest feet are the first to wear sandals.

.....how some people never have time or money for things until it's something THEY wanna do.

.....how Rihanna was on a jet ski with Chris Brown after "the incident" but became an ice queen with Diane Sawyer.

.....how some of the same people who love Nicki Minaj hated Lil' Kim. Same shit, different day.

.....how the people who tell you to let your guard down are the same people who hurt you.

.....how many BFF's you get when you're achieving greatness and people need/want something.

.....how so many bandwagon basketball fans didn't know who Nate Robinson was until the 2010 playoffs.

.....how some of the most beautiful people in the world have no idea that they're beautiful at all.

.....how Conrad Murray still walks the streets after killing music (R.I.P. MJ).

.....that they sterilize needles for lethal injections.

.....that a man wearing skinny jeans can be called a man at all.

.....that after "Party Like A Rockstar" was made, a lot of Black people suddenly realized AC\DC was right- "Rock & Roll Ain't Noise Pollution".

.....how Larry King is like 400 and is still alive.

.....that some people only associate Bob Marley with marijuana and never listen to his music. Oh, but they have the posters so that makes them "in the know". Fuckin' losers.

.....how Bob Segar can rock so hard and nobody notices.

.....how the Janis Joplin film was never a reality in the US.

.....that some people don't dig P!nk. Really? The chick is bad.

.....how Hip-Hop gets confused with his bastard brother Rap.

.....that Pharell was what it took to make skateboarding hot.

.....that the Tea Party still exists.

.....that Souljaboy looks like Flavor Flav's bastard son.

.....that I am a pitbull owner and lover and even I forgive Michael Vick.

.....how we are born with more bones than we die with.

.....how Christians are supposed to love and accept everyone but they talk about other religions like they are fads or science experiments.

.....that George W. Bush singlehandedly ruined our country and it's not him we are at war with.

.....that people invest in things they don't fully understand.

.....that I had so many "friends" in college but now I have no one.

.....how even though there is so much of my life my dad won't get to see, before he left this earth, I feel like he understood me and the things that are to occur in my life and has better prepared me for them. (R.I.P. Pops)

.....how a man with none of my blood in his veins could love and cherish me like his own daughter (Thank you, Lord).

.....how people don't believe in platonic friendship anymore.

.....that people look at me strangely for being friends with my exes.

......that light skin, thin and long hair equal pretty to most men.

......that the ex who wasn't worth a damn when you were together is trying to claim superstar/baller status now. (Boy, stop!)

.....how just because you have a few standards, you're labeled "too picky".

..... that after her stripper antics, parents still allow their kids to listen to Miley Cyrus but Chris Brown is banned in their house.

.....how Miley Cyrus is even considered a real musician.

.....that Janet Jackson is still so GORGEOUS after all she has been through. (Eat your heart out, girls under 40).

.....how having money makes women think he's sexy.

......how EVERYBODY is suddenly a recording artist. There should be more emphasis on "artist", I think.

......that some people love gay people as long as they aren't related to them.

......that there is even a question of whether or not gay people should be allowed to get married.

......how some people are so easily influenced and worship the people around them like they are God. Maybe if you would, as my frat brother says, take back your sack and have your own mind, people wouldn't despise you so much and you would find yourself a whole lot faster. Say what you want about me. I know ME.

......how some people give up the hallways of high school but keep the mentality.

......that someone sent me a text saying "You use to much bad language in your blog and that's why I won't read it. I'm sorry." That's cool. I respect your opinion but I don't need your apology. This blog is for people who can respect my feelings and the fact that I don't censor myself. If that's not you, I am glad you didn't subscribe.

......that somewhere there is a "Things You're Supposed To Care About To Be Socially Accepted" list and that people actually abide by it.

......that people accept things in relationships just because it's what they're used to.

.....how you're so vain, you probably think this blog is about you.....and it really is.

JUSTICE

(Stay tuned for Part 2)

Freewrite

I don't give a damn about Sex in the City. Glee is not my thing. I have a potty mouth. I don't obsess over my hair. I don't really wear makeup. I play video games. If I am wearing sweats while watching tv, my hand might be in them (not my underwear). Oh yeah, I wear sweats. I quit cheerleading because it was sickening. I don't wear bathing suits. I am not coy and demure. My hair is not waist-length. My teeth aren't perfect. I don't like foot massages. I do admit when I'm horny. I don't want to hear twenty stories about my friends and their boyfriends. I love football. I love basketball. I don't love baseball but I do love baseball caps. My ass is fat. My boobs are normal sized. "Fucker" is one of my favorite words and should really be in the dictionary. Sometimes, I just really don't wanna talk. I don't find body hair sexy. I won't melt just because you sing for me. Say something stupid and I will be the first to tell you. I don't drink. I don't dig one-night stands. I will probably wear jeans to the club. I don't dig softies (I just might make you cry). I do want to get married. I do want to have children. I am smart. I read. I am enterprising. I won't let you run over me. I won't ever let a man lay another harmful hand on me and get away with it. I don't NEED you. Maybe, just maybe, that is why I'm single.

Adventures of Club Night

So my little sister graduated college on Friday May 7, 2010 (again, congrats Booski). We had her a party with family and it was really a nice affair. But with she and I both being young and her friends being in town, naturally we wanted to get out and have a little fun afterward. But instead what we found were a few things that made us quite sad. We went to a club in our hometown and we honestly did expect to find a trace of a good time. When we walked in, we saw a few people we went to high school with. Keep in mind that I am five years older than she but the same people who went to high school with me know EVERYBODY at the club just like the ones who went to high school with her. So what this tells us, Mr. Party Animal,is that you come to this same spot every weekend. Then the dudes proceed to stand in a circle and sing the words to every song that comes on as they hug each other and throw up gang signs. Mr. Party Animal, how are you gangsta when you are hugging and singing to your homeboy? That is also not to mention, Mr. Party Animal that you are struggling to hold your pants up as you do it. Pants down. Check. Serenading a dude. Check. Hugging a dude. Check. Tongue down dude's throat..........You get the picture.

Then came Ms. Club Vixen. I am not sure when it became cool to to wear a top that is so tight and low cut that it cuts your nipple in half and makes the top and the visible portion of said nipple bulge and fall over the top. If the DJ says "One of them titties is gone fall out. And I'm gone catch it too"' you shouldn't smile, high five your homegirl and dance harder. Ms. Club Vixen, that is not what's hot in the streets. Then Ms. Club Vixen, why do you wear dresses so short and tight that you have to hold it down to dance? And Ms. Club Vixen, if you know you have no rhythm, then you should just barely move like the rest of the Rhythmless Nation. The Stanky Leg is not for you and it is not a great idea to grind on a wall next to the DJ's booth because he will see you and call you out for getting sexy on yourself with no rhythm. Oh and by the way, your shirt is so tight I can see your belly button.......and the bottom of your belly. And Ms. Club Vixen, it is not cool to throw your legs up on a random stranger and show your girl all of Vicki's Secret just because you want men to notice your sexy. Don't do that, Ms. Club Vixen.

Then we walked outside. There we met Mr. Boy Scout (I have NO idea why this dude could still wear his Boy Scout vest or why he brought it to the club to show his friends), Miss New Booty (I say BRAND new because I ain't never seen nothin' like this before) whose booty was lumpy, bulging and pouring out of her shorts from the back AND the sides and Lady Drunk Slut. Now I call this last one "Lady" in a very joking manner. If you are so wasted that your legs look like the Scarecrow's in The Wizard of Oz (or The Wiz; Do what ya' like) and your man has to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder just to get you to the car which is right across the street, you have had too much. Just a ways down the sidewalk, there was Lady Drunk Slut's next of kin, Intoxicated Ho. I mean, passed out on the bench next to your friend who is just as unconscious and only wearing her bra and jeans? There are two dudes next to you "checking on you" but their faces say one thing- "Smaaaaaaaaaash!" And please believe they will.

Now you all know me. I am way to inquisitive for my own good. I got around to asking a few of them where they were from. I was proud to learn that only two of the eight I "interviewed" were from my state. We met a lot of subjects along our case study club night and it did two things. The first was that it made us both glad we grew up and then it answered the age-old question of "Wheredeydodatat?"

Free Write

I think I have always had what some might call an irrational fear of something terrible happening to me- never being able to bear children, finding out I have cancer only after it has consumed most of me, being the responsible driver and stopping at a red light but the 18-wheeler behind me deciding not to, being the one to greet a stray bullet with a vital organ- ya know, that type of stuff. I do pray every day that God keeps me safe and these fears don't live at the forefront and therefore do not run my life. While I am not at all afraid to die, I would rather it not be tragic and ruin the funeral my mother is leaving me no choice other than to have (I would rather just be cremated. No point of making a fuss for me). But I do believe that because I am always cautious of the extreme, my life is more rewarding in some aspects. I love hard enough for me and everyone else. When I am fed up, I can make people and things instantly obsolete. When I am happy, I share with others and I will admit that I have on occasion shared sadness and anger too. When I am passionate about something, everyone is gonna feel it. When I make love......well.......*blush*. If my so-called irrational fears make my normalities sweeter, then I hope to keep my visitor's pass to the World of Irrationality forever.

JUSTICE

Ahem

May I have your attention, please?

Fuck the Tea Party.

That"ll be all.

Okay, I'll Bite

I wasn't gonna do this. But there have been way too many "Why Black Women Are Single" spots coming on tv nowadays for me to keep quiet. Judging from a friend's recent misfortune and a lifetime of my own, I feel I am more than qualified to speak. First of all, let me say that my daddy (R.I.P) and my brother are all the proof I need that somewhere in the world exist good Black men. Secondly, this morning I was awakened by a picture message with the subject line, "Look What This Bastard Did". When I opened the photo, I saw remnants of a face I used to know. Only this version of the face was splattered with purple bruises and red cuts and soaked in its own blood mixed with its own tears. The nose broken and not sure which way to go. The lips cut, swollen and a bit downturn. A knot on the forehead threatening to burst and bleed. I remember the face I used to know. It was happy, lighthearted and nothing like this one. We will call my friend "Amy" for the sake of this post. Amy and I have known each other since the 7th grade and since I have known her, she has dreamed of love and marriage. But like many of us, Amy has run into nothing but bad luck. Oh, did I forget to mention Amy isn't Black? As a matter of fact, she calls herself "one of the whitest girls you will ever know". After seeing the picture, I called Amy. It turns out, the picture was taken three weeks ago and she is healing. She tells me she saw a couple of the spots on Black women. Then she has this to say:

"It's not just Black women. Most of the women in my family have major problems with the men they date. I have a lot of White friends who do too. We have the same problems with our men. I think the only reason they put the spotlight on Black women is because y'all are more vocal about it."

That was interesting because I felt the same way. Yes Sistas, I know that just because we don't mention it doesn't mean the problem doesn't exist. But the reason shows like this exist is that we voice our "Niggas ain't shit" theories so much. Then we are not open to interracial dating so that leaves no options at all. We have to know that if every woman found The One the very first time around, most of us would never even go on dates. I have been cheated on. I have been beaten. I have been berrated. I have had my virtue stolen and I have had times where I was just fed up. I am even guilty of saying "Men ain't shit". But I do give myself time to get over those moments of bitterness and not typecast because of the few bad actors I have casted. I might not ever find my leading man, but I will stop making men the villains. So in short, Black women, ALL women have the problems but our men suffer because we judge without looking at ourselves. Now if you look within and truly find that you aren't the problem, then fine. By all means, leave and go on to the next one. But leave the jawjacking behind. You can't be upset when Dateline only repeats what you say. Don't get mad. Just shut up.