Dear Sweet Baby Jesus,
Thank You.
Thank You.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
12-21-2011
6:12pm
The wife just called.
Question: Are you and Tony still dating?
Answer: NO!!!
This shit has got to STOP!
Monday, December 19, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Impose (rough)
I don’t mean to impose but
I want to impose myself on you.
Your lips, your hands.
Permanently embed myself in your brain so that your every thought is me
Impose myself on your tongue and saturate your taste buds
With the essence of me
Tattoo myself to the back of your eyelids
So that when you close your eyes all you see is me
Crawl into your tear ducts
So that when you cry, you cry a river of me
Self impose myself onto your skin
so that when touch yourself, all you feel is me…
Yada yada yada…blah blah blah
nina
I want to impose myself on you.
Your lips, your hands.
Permanently embed myself in your brain so that your every thought is me
Impose myself on your tongue and saturate your taste buds
With the essence of me
Tattoo myself to the back of your eyelids
So that when you close your eyes all you see is me
Crawl into your tear ducts
So that when you cry, you cry a river of me
Self impose myself onto your skin
so that when touch yourself, all you feel is me…
Yada yada yada…blah blah blah
nina
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
An Ode to The Past...
9-19 1/2-2011
When I walked into that house that Friday night, I walked right into my past.
All of my stories and secrets, once buried alive, quickly permeated the air, suffocating me with every attempted breath.
I was horrified. What had I gotten myself into? Who knew what? And, how did they know?
Was my friendship with her, however estranged even worth the torture of revisiting and reliving a past I had long since concealed and pushed deep in the bowels of my belly? At that moment, I honestly didn’t think so.
I considered running. Thought about saying fuck it and turning my black ass right back around.
I wasn’t ready.
Guilt escaped my body, seeped through my pores, and clouded my vision. Nothing was clear to me anymore, except for the fact that I did not want to be there among the people I had wronged and who had wronged me so carelessly so long ago.
And no matter the excuses, or fabricated tales, I knew, at the surface, that I deserved those stares and whatever they had said about me that night, was probably true.
So, I bore those letters proudly. The color of blood. Scarlet red. The letter A followed by two SS’s proceeding the words KISS and MY.
After all even the preacher, and preacher’s kids, and the preacher’s kids’ kids have a few skeletons lying around in their closet.
nina
When I walked into that house that Friday night, I walked right into my past.
All of my stories and secrets, once buried alive, quickly permeated the air, suffocating me with every attempted breath.
I was horrified. What had I gotten myself into? Who knew what? And, how did they know?
Was my friendship with her, however estranged even worth the torture of revisiting and reliving a past I had long since concealed and pushed deep in the bowels of my belly? At that moment, I honestly didn’t think so.
I considered running. Thought about saying fuck it and turning my black ass right back around.
I wasn’t ready.
Guilt escaped my body, seeped through my pores, and clouded my vision. Nothing was clear to me anymore, except for the fact that I did not want to be there among the people I had wronged and who had wronged me so carelessly so long ago.
And no matter the excuses, or fabricated tales, I knew, at the surface, that I deserved those stares and whatever they had said about me that night, was probably true.
So, I bore those letters proudly. The color of blood. Scarlet red. The letter A followed by two SS’s proceeding the words KISS and MY.
After all even the preacher, and preacher’s kids, and the preacher’s kids’ kids have a few skeletons lying around in their closet.
nina
Friday, November 11, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Why get married? And if you do marry, why cheat?
The sanctity of marriage has long been washed away by thoughts of “acceptable” infidelity; thinking that its ok to have a chick/dick on the side so long as you’re taking care of business at home.
But what about the emotional? What about the vows? What about the bond you share with the person you chose to marry? Doesn’t that hold any weight when it comes to rationalizing your decision to cheat or not cheat?
If you love your wife, why would you even consider stepping out on her; adding another person to the mix? Fuck wanting to be a rebel and fighting the world with your dick. Fuck wanting to be a “free spirit” and do as you please with no reservations, stipulations, and/or consequence. You waived your right to
“sexual” free-spiritedness the moment you took those vows before God and/or man.
The sanctity of marriage has long been washed away by thoughts of “acceptable” infidelity; thinking that its ok to have a chick/dick on the side so long as you’re taking care of business at home.
But what about the emotional? What about the vows? What about the bond you share with the person you chose to marry? Doesn’t that hold any weight when it comes to rationalizing your decision to cheat or not cheat?
If you love your wife, why would you even consider stepping out on her; adding another person to the mix? Fuck wanting to be a rebel and fighting the world with your dick. Fuck wanting to be a “free spirit” and do as you please with no reservations, stipulations, and/or consequence. You waived your right to
“sexual” free-spiritedness the moment you took those vows before God and/or man.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
A Hint of Color (excerpt)
11022011
I grew up in the Black community, went to a predominantly black elementary school, a culturally diverse high school and college, even dated outside my race a couple of times. I know how to mix and co-mingle with the best and worst of them.
So why, then, am I having such a hard time here? My guards are up twentyfourseven. Skin set to super strength. I am constantly on high alert, anticipating the ever present nuances of over opinionated chatter. Listening extra close for coded racial slurs.
I can’t loosen up. Can’t get comfortable. Can’t be free in a world that muffles me, not because of who I am, but because of what I look like.
And I am not trying to fit in or become one of the “chosen few”, I’m just looking for a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic environment.
I’m tired of being the only hint of color in a sea of pale faces; the only brown skinned lady in a racially charged atmosphere where masculinity and ignorance prevail. Where Black vs. White is at the very forefront of every side conversation, and racial innuendo consumes the air. Where the color of my skin, not the content of my character, is silently prevalent in my daily interaction with these people.
It saddens me.
The resounding fact that I AM BLACK will never change and that’s what I love. But the ignorance. The ignorance and prejudice, the stifled mindset, the superiority complex, the erroneous sense of entitlement, the continuity of blatant disrespect of my people in my presence is what boils my blood.
It bugs the hell out of me how we are placed in the same category as monkeys, not men. As animals, not humans. They place us in the throes of satan himself without even attempting to take the time to understand our wonderment.
This is the most uncultured, unrelatable, close minded group of people I have ever encountered, and that’s putting it mildly.
Their opinions of us are multitudinous. We are loud, ignorant, uneducated, drug dealers, gang bangers, baby daddies, baby toting, hairweave wearing, gum smacking baby mommas with no sense of direction.
In their eyes we are everything wrong in this world. We are the reason for the failed economy, global warming, rush hour traffic, migraines, and constipation. Unworthy of walking the land where they reside.
I grew up in the Black community, went to a predominantly black elementary school, a culturally diverse high school and college, even dated outside my race a couple of times. I know how to mix and co-mingle with the best and worst of them.
So why, then, am I having such a hard time here? My guards are up twentyfourseven. Skin set to super strength. I am constantly on high alert, anticipating the ever present nuances of over opinionated chatter. Listening extra close for coded racial slurs.
I can’t loosen up. Can’t get comfortable. Can’t be free in a world that muffles me, not because of who I am, but because of what I look like.
And I am not trying to fit in or become one of the “chosen few”, I’m just looking for a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic environment.
I’m tired of being the only hint of color in a sea of pale faces; the only brown skinned lady in a racially charged atmosphere where masculinity and ignorance prevail. Where Black vs. White is at the very forefront of every side conversation, and racial innuendo consumes the air. Where the color of my skin, not the content of my character, is silently prevalent in my daily interaction with these people.
It saddens me.
The resounding fact that I AM BLACK will never change and that’s what I love. But the ignorance. The ignorance and prejudice, the stifled mindset, the superiority complex, the erroneous sense of entitlement, the continuity of blatant disrespect of my people in my presence is what boils my blood.
It bugs the hell out of me how we are placed in the same category as monkeys, not men. As animals, not humans. They place us in the throes of satan himself without even attempting to take the time to understand our wonderment.
This is the most uncultured, unrelatable, close minded group of people I have ever encountered, and that’s putting it mildly.
Their opinions of us are multitudinous. We are loud, ignorant, uneducated, drug dealers, gang bangers, baby daddies, baby toting, hairweave wearing, gum smacking baby mommas with no sense of direction.
In their eyes we are everything wrong in this world. We are the reason for the failed economy, global warming, rush hour traffic, migraines, and constipation. Unworthy of walking the land where they reside.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
I want you to devour me...consume me whole.
The addiction.
Flesh to flesh. Heart to soul.
Elation. Eternal appreciation for what we share...
a side note written in Braille that only you and I can see.
Invisible to the naked eye, but painfully clear to you and me.
Simplicity in its simplest form.
Us.
nina
The addiction.
Flesh to flesh. Heart to soul.
Elation. Eternal appreciation for what we share...
a side note written in Braille that only you and I can see.
Invisible to the naked eye, but painfully clear to you and me.
Simplicity in its simplest form.
Us.
nina
Thursday, October 20, 2011
You...
Cannot erase my thoughts with a mere kiss to the frontal lobe, and a pat on the ass. After all is said and done, I'm only left with a wet forehead, a tender ass, and my ever present thoughts.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Last night I cried. Not only because my feet were on fire, but also because the message in that performance fed my soul.
I truly believe God puts people in your life for a reason. I met this dude years ago. We never really talked on the phone or hung out. I never saw the need to carry our association beyond what it was, which was not much.
But we managed to stay linked.
Via myspace, facebook, twitter, and/or text we continued to connect and I began to see the value in our friendship.
But I didn't realize until a couple of months ago just why God placed him in my life: To inspire change; to give me that proverbial kick in the pants.
Last night he took me on a journey. PAIN. TRANSITION. TRIUMPH. Took me through history. His story chock full of raw, fluid emotion emersed in truth. It was real, it was honest. No holds barred inspired.
And in listening, and dancing, and singing, and having church in every sense of the word, I found my truth. My inspiration. My motivation to tell my story without fear. Fear of judgement, disappointment or loss.
So to you, dear sir, I salute, and I thank you immensely for sharing your story.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
10-6-2011
I’d be lying if I said I was in good spirits today. I’m not. But I am trying.
I woke up thanking God for another day and another chance to make Him proud of me. Prayed for peace, guidance, and a strong will to sustain me. Asked for forgiveness for my sins (I have many) and blessings as He sees fit.
He has not failed me yet and I thank Him for standing with me in the midst of this tumultuous battlefield.
But my heart is heavy. So heavy. Anchored down by doubt, fear, uncertainty, and anger all from a past resurfaced.
I looked at his FB page today and there it was. There she was, offering herself up on a plate of gravy and biscuits ready to be sopped up…by him.
My face was flushed. My ears were hot. And my temper boiled through my veins.
Anger, frustration, and a tinge of jealousy filled my space and I was ready to pounce. Like a lioness to her prey, I was out for blood.
But that’s not me. It’s not who I am. My momma raised me better than that.
So I reached deep down in my pocket…for a prayer, a word, or the good sense God gave me.
“Dear Lord God Please don’t let me act a fool on here”
My anger has since subsided, but the fear, doubt, and uncertainty remain. Hence my current mood.
Things will never be simple with us. There will always be some untold truth. Always a question. Always someone on the outside trying to get into our inside to sneak a piece of the pie.
I’m not sure if I have the strength to endure the tug of war all over again. Not sure if I want to. Not sure if its worth it.
Love is. But…are we?
Too many times I have had to talk myself down from the proverbial ledge of emotional self destruction based off what I saw and carnal knowledge of the flesh. His flesh. My flesh.
I need stability. Need to feel safe. Safe in knowing that if I turn my head for a moment, you won’t be doling out the pie behind my back.
But if that is the case, if you do give away the pie behind my back, then it was never really my pie to begin with.
I’d be lying if I said I was in good spirits today. I’m not. But I am trying.
I woke up thanking God for another day and another chance to make Him proud of me. Prayed for peace, guidance, and a strong will to sustain me. Asked for forgiveness for my sins (I have many) and blessings as He sees fit.
He has not failed me yet and I thank Him for standing with me in the midst of this tumultuous battlefield.
But my heart is heavy. So heavy. Anchored down by doubt, fear, uncertainty, and anger all from a past resurfaced.
I looked at his FB page today and there it was. There she was, offering herself up on a plate of gravy and biscuits ready to be sopped up…by him.
My face was flushed. My ears were hot. And my temper boiled through my veins.
Anger, frustration, and a tinge of jealousy filled my space and I was ready to pounce. Like a lioness to her prey, I was out for blood.
But that’s not me. It’s not who I am. My momma raised me better than that.
So I reached deep down in my pocket…for a prayer, a word, or the good sense God gave me.
“Dear Lord God Please don’t let me act a fool on here”
My anger has since subsided, but the fear, doubt, and uncertainty remain. Hence my current mood.
Things will never be simple with us. There will always be some untold truth. Always a question. Always someone on the outside trying to get into our inside to sneak a piece of the pie.
I’m not sure if I have the strength to endure the tug of war all over again. Not sure if I want to. Not sure if its worth it.
Love is. But…are we?
Too many times I have had to talk myself down from the proverbial ledge of emotional self destruction based off what I saw and carnal knowledge of the flesh. His flesh. My flesh.
I need stability. Need to feel safe. Safe in knowing that if I turn my head for a moment, you won’t be doling out the pie behind my back.
But if that is the case, if you do give away the pie behind my back, then it was never really my pie to begin with.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
I don’t know how to be this person. This person who turns and walks away from love with no sense of direction or explanation. I don’t know how to not try to fix something that’s broken but not broken beyond repair. I don’t know how to not think of you and miss you and love you with my entire being, yet feel so empty, lost, and alone…
What has gotten into me? I am not this weak twig of a woman amongst a tree of strong branches. I am the fucking tree. The soil, the foundation from which it grows, holding it all together. So why then do I feel like a blade of grass? Tiny. Insignificant. Fragile.
My heart was not made to bear the brunt of bruises that heartache leaves behind. But somewhere in the midst of this chaotic mind fuck lies a lesson to beat all lessons.
It still hurts. This achy pain in my chest still abides by my side with no hopes of timely dissipation. I can’t even look at his face so I erased it from the contacts in my phone. Fresh remembrances still fresh and too tender to touch so I walk around cloaked and covered with kitten gloves. Hiding my heart, my ears, my eyes, and anything else that resembles him. His words. Our laughter. Our promises.
I have been so wrong and right about so many things as of late that now it’s hard to decipher between the two.
Did I read too far into his words? Did I misread the fine print on his label like so many times before? Was he playing me or did I just play the fuck out of myself?
So many questions. Not enough answers.
I looked for him today. Looked for his calls. His emails. His laughter. His affection. His love. In every corner of that room I searched for him. Perused old text messages hoping for a sign, any sign that he was real. That he had actually been there. That he really did exist.
I found nothing. No words. No love. No laughter. Just an empty silence taunting and teasing me for having been so foolish.
And the pain. The painful remains of our demise remain like blotted ink stains in my pocket.
nina
What has gotten into me? I am not this weak twig of a woman amongst a tree of strong branches. I am the fucking tree. The soil, the foundation from which it grows, holding it all together. So why then do I feel like a blade of grass? Tiny. Insignificant. Fragile.
My heart was not made to bear the brunt of bruises that heartache leaves behind. But somewhere in the midst of this chaotic mind fuck lies a lesson to beat all lessons.
It still hurts. This achy pain in my chest still abides by my side with no hopes of timely dissipation. I can’t even look at his face so I erased it from the contacts in my phone. Fresh remembrances still fresh and too tender to touch so I walk around cloaked and covered with kitten gloves. Hiding my heart, my ears, my eyes, and anything else that resembles him. His words. Our laughter. Our promises.
I have been so wrong and right about so many things as of late that now it’s hard to decipher between the two.
Did I read too far into his words? Did I misread the fine print on his label like so many times before? Was he playing me or did I just play the fuck out of myself?
So many questions. Not enough answers.
I looked for him today. Looked for his calls. His emails. His laughter. His affection. His love. In every corner of that room I searched for him. Perused old text messages hoping for a sign, any sign that he was real. That he had actually been there. That he really did exist.
I found nothing. No words. No love. No laughter. Just an empty silence taunting and teasing me for having been so foolish.
And the pain. The painful remains of our demise remain like blotted ink stains in my pocket.
nina
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Snippet...9-19-2011
I have secrets even these walls can’t keep
Secrets that lie dormant in my mind then
Haunt me in my sleep.
Skeletal remains of tales left untold
Unearthed and cloaked in darkness as the story unfolds
...
nina
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Beyond…
I want to love you beyond words
The words in my head that send me through roller coasters of emotion
When you are not around
Beyond the confused and misconstrued
The who, what, where, when, and whys of fuddled conversation
The highs and lows
The high-pitched tones of syllables broken down with explanation
The connotation and subtle abbreviation of what we mean to me
Beyond the goodbyes and the hi’s
The fall and the rise of inflatable heart-shaped affections
Beyond promises, pinky swears, and muted expectations
Beyond the whispered soliloquies
The metaphors and the similes
I want to love you beyond the noise
The voiceless words that fall on deaf ears
Ears pained from lies and disappointment derived from experience past
I want to capitalize on the silence
Absent of verbal expression
When all it takes is a look or simple gesture to convey just what you mean to me
I want to love you beyond I love you…
nina
The words in my head that send me through roller coasters of emotion
When you are not around
Beyond the confused and misconstrued
The who, what, where, when, and whys of fuddled conversation
The highs and lows
The high-pitched tones of syllables broken down with explanation
The connotation and subtle abbreviation of what we mean to me
Beyond the goodbyes and the hi’s
The fall and the rise of inflatable heart-shaped affections
Beyond promises, pinky swears, and muted expectations
Beyond the whispered soliloquies
The metaphors and the similes
I want to love you beyond the noise
The voiceless words that fall on deaf ears
Ears pained from lies and disappointment derived from experience past
I want to capitalize on the silence
Absent of verbal expression
When all it takes is a look or simple gesture to convey just what you mean to me
I want to love you beyond I love you…
nina
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
9-10-2011
Holding on to a love lost in lust and
mistrust was us thinking that things would change...
they never did.
And sex was not the remedy.
It only made me the enemy.
Consumed by regret, I could no longer let
me make a fool of me...
nina
mistrust was us thinking that things would change...
they never did.
And sex was not the remedy.
It only made me the enemy.
Consumed by regret, I could no longer let
me make a fool of me...
nina
Monday, September 5, 2011
9-1-11
Last night I broke…
Down.
I stepped outside myself and became
Myself
My guilt has overtaken me in the worst way. As have my insecurities.
And them things run deep.
I questioned him. Incessantly. About her. And some other person with the same name as his ex whose name shall remain nameless, but permanently embedded in my brain. Sometimes I wish I could take an alcohol swab to the head to cleanse my mind and sterilize my thoughts. Sucks that it doesn’t work that way.
nina
Down.
I stepped outside myself and became
Myself
My guilt has overtaken me in the worst way. As have my insecurities.
And them things run deep.
I questioned him. Incessantly. About her. And some other person with the same name as his ex whose name shall remain nameless, but permanently embedded in my brain. Sometimes I wish I could take an alcohol swab to the head to cleanse my mind and sterilize my thoughts. Sucks that it doesn’t work that way.
nina
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
5-25-2011
I woke up in a mood as dark as the clouds that covered the sky this morning.
The repugnant stench of worry, doubt, and frustration permeated the air in my apartment.
I did not want to get out of bed.
I wanted to lay there. Just lay there.
In thought. In reflection.
Its raining out today
And
Everything from the wake from my dreams, the resounding rage of the thunder, and the dryness of his tone Makes me want to crawl under the covers and hide there until the pain of the rain goes away
And
The sun highlights the sky.
The repugnant stench of worry, doubt, and frustration permeated the air in my apartment.
I did not want to get out of bed.
I wanted to lay there. Just lay there.
In thought. In reflection.
Its raining out today
And
Everything from the wake from my dreams, the resounding rage of the thunder, and the dryness of his tone Makes me want to crawl under the covers and hide there until the pain of the rain goes away
And
The sun highlights the sky.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Speaking of Men...
...I am so ready for love...
But I am scared shitless.
Not of love itself, but of letting go and giving in.
Submission.
Vulnerability frightens me.
Stifles me.
And as much as I try to steady my feet and take it slow, the idea of loving him
and him loving me, excites me!
Its pushing me to want more.
To want to do more with him.
Not as individuals, but as individuals in a unit that share an unbreakable common bond.
LOVE!
And once you say I LOVE YOU, you can't take it back.
And, depending on the playing field, that can totally change the dynamic of the relationship.
Where there once was no expectation, suddenly there's expectation growing out of your ass.
And doing what comes natural is no longer natural.
And that's what scares me.
The questioning, doubting, second guessing, typical getting too comfortable phase leaves a bitter
taste in my mouth.
I want to grow old with this man.
I'm sick of practicing for the real thing.
No more dress rehearsals...
I'm ready for my close-up!
But I am scared shitless.
Not of love itself, but of letting go and giving in.
Submission.
Vulnerability frightens me.
Stifles me.
And as much as I try to steady my feet and take it slow, the idea of loving him
and him loving me, excites me!
Its pushing me to want more.
To want to do more with him.
Not as individuals, but as individuals in a unit that share an unbreakable common bond.
LOVE!
And once you say I LOVE YOU, you can't take it back.
And, depending on the playing field, that can totally change the dynamic of the relationship.
Where there once was no expectation, suddenly there's expectation growing out of your ass.
And doing what comes natural is no longer natural.
And that's what scares me.
The questioning, doubting, second guessing, typical getting too comfortable phase leaves a bitter
taste in my mouth.
I want to grow old with this man.
I'm sick of practicing for the real thing.
No more dress rehearsals...
I'm ready for my close-up!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
5-3-2011
At the end of the day, all I really need is love...ing
Loving.
Im not talking about that old Leave it to Beaver shit kind of love...
Im talking about that honey I had a long day at work can you relieve my stress kind of love...
that put down the phone, unbuckle your pants, drop your draws, and have me on the counter kind of love...ing
Loving.
Loving.
Im not talking about that old Leave it to Beaver shit kind of love...
Im talking about that honey I had a long day at work can you relieve my stress kind of love...
that put down the phone, unbuckle your pants, drop your draws, and have me on the counter kind of love...ing
Loving.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thursday Morning Blues…
Woke up feeling some kinda way…
Mainly about him.
Whatever thoughts or feelings I conjured up about him yesterday have turned to dust over the course of 24 hours…
I keep picturing us …together. And while a pretty picture we make, the negatives don’t coincide with the photograph in my mind.
And I am trying my best not to dump all of my mess on him, as we both come with baggage, but my emotions are getting the best of me. And speaking from my head rather than my heart is becoming increasingly difficult.
Lust, love, like…LUST.
My insides are confused.
I listen to his words and I know he means well, however sincere or insincere they maybe.
Then I get stuck.
I have an insatiable appetite for all things that make me feel good…
He makes me feel good.
Perhaps its psychological.
Maybe I am mind fucking myself making myself believe something as far fetched as him actually wanting me the way he says he does.
Maybe the words I hear are not his words, but merely words contrived from my innate need to feel loved. Desired.
Complete neurosis.
Utter confusion.
Thursday Morning Blues…
nina
Woke up feeling some kinda way…
Mainly about him.
Whatever thoughts or feelings I conjured up about him yesterday have turned to dust over the course of 24 hours…
I keep picturing us …together. And while a pretty picture we make, the negatives don’t coincide with the photograph in my mind.
And I am trying my best not to dump all of my mess on him, as we both come with baggage, but my emotions are getting the best of me. And speaking from my head rather than my heart is becoming increasingly difficult.
Lust, love, like…LUST.
My insides are confused.
I listen to his words and I know he means well, however sincere or insincere they maybe.
Then I get stuck.
I have an insatiable appetite for all things that make me feel good…
He makes me feel good.
Perhaps its psychological.
Maybe I am mind fucking myself making myself believe something as far fetched as him actually wanting me the way he says he does.
Maybe the words I hear are not his words, but merely words contrived from my innate need to feel loved. Desired.
Complete neurosis.
Utter confusion.
Thursday Morning Blues…
nina
Thursday, February 24, 2011
1-20-2011
A couple of weeks ago I decided I was going to do a 40 day detox to cleanse my system and my soul of all the poisons I’ve digested and ingested over the past few months.
I am currently on day 4 and I am craving White Castles cheese burgers and chocolate chip cookies.
The office has been overflowing with all things sweet for the past week or so. Chocolate treats courtesy of the Big Boss and I cannot partake.
Not that I would if I could. With all of the germs, and snot, and hot breath breathing over the candies and cookies.
The pube infested hands from the scratching of balls reaching over, touching, and fondling every sweet morsel of Fannie May that lay on that ledge…
I think not!
But the idea of chocolate is excruciatingly tempting right now.
I will not give in.
Instead I’ll grab my bag of craisins and imagine they are covered in dark chocolate (much like how I imagine my men) and indulge.
Peanut Butter and Jelly for lunch.
I am currently on day 4 and I am craving White Castles cheese burgers and chocolate chip cookies.
The office has been overflowing with all things sweet for the past week or so. Chocolate treats courtesy of the Big Boss and I cannot partake.
Not that I would if I could. With all of the germs, and snot, and hot breath breathing over the candies and cookies.
The pube infested hands from the scratching of balls reaching over, touching, and fondling every sweet morsel of Fannie May that lay on that ledge…
I think not!
But the idea of chocolate is excruciatingly tempting right now.
I will not give in.
Instead I’ll grab my bag of craisins and imagine they are covered in dark chocolate (much like how I imagine my men) and indulge.
Peanut Butter and Jelly for lunch.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I feel like the BIGBLACKELEPHANTINTHEROOM the second I walk into that office.
I wonder what he whispered in his ear the day he started, after we were introduced...
"Dont get too close to the black girl...you might find that you like her...."
Damn shame actually.
I am the only black person there, not to mention, a woman amongst men, and it saddens me...for a person who sees no color, I am surrounded by people who do.
And they all do.
I wonder what he whispered in his ear the day he started, after we were introduced...
"Dont get too close to the black girl...you might find that you like her...."
Damn shame actually.
I am the only black person there, not to mention, a woman amongst men, and it saddens me...for a person who sees no color, I am surrounded by people who do.
And they all do.
Friday, January 7, 2011
“Now that he’s outta way, can I talk to you for a minute? Can I break it down and break you off, some of this computer lovin’ type a shit, lookin’ at you from the inside of this Internet, hmm, I’m in the mood, and my tongue is in the mood, ladies, can we have a little fun? Can we play a little game? Say, can we have a little fun? Can we play a little game? I got somethin’ for y’all, can I give it to you?”
Ha! Yeah, something like that...
Ha! Yeah, something like that...
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