My Salvation, Your Condemnation: Sodom and Gomorrah – Part 1

And they called unto Lot, and said unto him, Where are the men which came in to thee this night? Bring them out unto us, that we may know them. And Lot went out at the door unto them, and shut the door after him, And said, I pray you brethren, do not so wickedly. Genesis 19:5-7

As Holy as the Bible is, you would think people would want to use it to perpetuate the love, grace, rest, and salvation, offered in and through scripture. However, more than enough people are inclined to use God’s Living Word, to satisfy their own vanity. In giving the benefit of the doubt to those who use the Word for their own personal edifications, some of them really do not know; some genuinely do not understand the power and glory they are abusing when they use Scripture to pass judgement on and/or stigmatize a community, a person, a way of life, even a thing. They also fail to make the connection that in doing so, the very thing they are condemning has a greater chance of being exalted and instead they who condemn will be held accountable for not staying in their lane, as condemnation has been reserved by God as something only He can do.

The Bible, throughout history has been a vehicle for the vane, for the abusers, for the removed, to exert power and control over whatever they see fit. During the Crusades, a holy war, the Bible was used to murder and coerce people into Catholicism. During the Slave Trade, the bible was used to exert power and control over slaves and much crazier, even, the Bible was used as a confirmation to slave owners and traders that they were participating in something Holy and Godly as set forth by Scripture. There are much more instances throughout history of the Bible being used and perverted to satisfy vile and human dysfunctions, but right here today, there is a community that cannot seem to escape the use of Scripture to justify the blatant discrimination and stigmatization they endure – The LGBT Community.

Members of the LGBT Community are no strangers being ostracized for their lifestyle. And, literally, the only leg ostracizers have to stand on is Scripture and their vain perversions, interpretations, and understanding of it. Somehow, someway, the Scripture is connected to the the blatant social and civil inequalities and inequities that exist against members of LGBT, in today’s world. For example, the only real reason people who are against same-sex marriage have is scripturally substantiated: God intended marriage to be between a man and a woman. Sometimes execution of the discrimination that LGBT members face or have faced isn’t as direct. Sometimes it’s downright ignorance. Sometimes the person who hates that someone is gay, lesbian, trans, etc., may only be smart enough to say, “It’s just not right!” They don’t know why it’s not right. Perhaps it was an idle word they’d received. Maybe they themselves are in the closet. Maybe two generations before them, someone allowed what Scriptures warn us against:

Beware, lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ. Colossians 2:8

The fact of the matter is, whether it is direct or indirect, Scripture is the umbrella of all discriminatory acts suffered by the LGBT. Colossians 2:8, I’m sure can be cross-referenced dozens of times. The Gospels talk to us about those whom we allow to build on Christ’s foundation, as does a couple of other books in The New Testament. Throughout the bible, false prophets are around and we are charged to recognize them and stay away from their teachings and drama. Talk about the vanity of fools gives way to lessons about whom we follow. Without a degree, socially accepted credentials, or any formal theological training, I am confused about the confusion and debate, as a matter of fact, I am confused as to why a debate even exists. Indeed, an avid reader of Scripture, I am dumb-struck at the behavior rampant in the world. I am often left wondering, “What Bible are they reading,” or, “What Bible have they read”, thinking surely it isn’t the one I am familiar with or any of it’s contemporary translations.

My Salvation, Your Condemnation will be a series of essays dedicated to exposing the supposed contradictions of Scripture. And when I say supposed, that is exactly what I mean because if you ask me, there isn’t one contradiction to be found. However, I am sensitive to the fact that in all actuality, Scripture seems to contradict itself. I am here to show you that the contradictions don’t lie in actual Scripture, but in the understander, the interpreter, the reader. The contradictions lie in society, they lie in vanity, and the madness of human nature. Contradictions find places to grow in the retina of the untrained eye and festers in the heart.

Using Scripture, personal experiences, love and understanding, I pray to show the LGBTQ, a community to which I belong, that we are, can, and will be blessed. That there is a great salvation, for us, to be had. We are afforded the liberties offered through Christ. I do not know what I will write next, but to begin, I will with the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. This story, parable, even, is the main story that fuels the fire of people who are against people who are in the life.

“You shouldn’t be gay, don’t you know the story of Sodom and Gomorrah?” “Yes, I do know the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, but what does it have to do with me being gay?”

Me and HIM and the Smirk that Started it All (Part 2)

“The Bible?! You have got to be kidding me, dad! The Bible?”

Did he say the bible?

Considering every jewel he dropped leading up, to this moment, I couldn’t believe the Bible was his answer!

My dad … sure, he had a heart, but it seemed it was hidden under a lot of complexes. People were afraid of him, they tip-toed around him, he had no qualms about calling someone stupid or dumb, he demanded respect, he was harsh, abrasive, and it wasn’t uncommon to hear someone say, “Oh, that’s your dad? He seems mean!” It was hard for me to believe he even read the Bible. To learn, not only did he and does he read the Bible, it was the reason for his brilliance, blew my mind with intimidation. However, as intimidating as the Bible was, I was and still am deathly motivated by my need to be some kind of smart. Finding out and knowing is one of my highest priorities in life.

“… But Dad? I don’t even know where to begin. Where should I start?” Just the thought was scary and overwhelming. For goodness sake, I was in no position to start reading the Bible! I live an alternative lifestyle, I abuse marijuana, I wasn’t working, instead I was hustling, didn’t feel worthy enough to go to church, I was actually so removed, I wasn’t even sure what church I would go to and I wasn’t being bad, but I knew, I wasn’t being good. I still had the idea that before I could come to Christ, I had to get my life right.

He suggested that I start with Proverbs. It took a few weeks as I continued to wrap my head around the idea that every genius thing my dad said was somehow connected to Scripture. As those weeks passed, the knowledge he imparted continued to peak my interest. About a week before I began reading, a distant friend of the family stopped by the apartment and left me with a brand new Bible. I had been telling him that I was about to start reading the Bible for all of the aforementioned reasons. He reached in his bag and pulled out a fresh Bible that an old lady give him on his way to visit. His family had more than enough Bibles and if I would use it, I could have it.

The day I picked it up, the burdens I had been hearing about my entire life, the burdens that they say is lifted when you believe and trust Christ, a few were lifted. I didn’t even know I had burdens. Sure, I was under a lot of stress and pressure. My internal environment wasn’t at its best because I wasn’t living up to my fullest potential in the least bit. I wasn’t happy with my circumstances, but they weren’t terrible either. Eventually, I would learn that my ability to make the best out of things, my positive spirit and optimism was HIM all along, without me even knowing. Oh and best of all, I had grace! I didn’t know that either.

The lips of the righteous feed many, but fools die for lack of sense. -Prov. 10:21

There were worldly ideas that I had already developed that I couldn’t articulate. There were things that I saw and didn’t understand. For example, being Black and that relationship with Christ. America and everything it seemed to stand for and it’s relationship with Christ. Different cultures and their relationship with Christ. Society and it’s structure posed a lot of questions, as did relationships. Most of all, Love was a 1500-piece jigsaw puzzle.

I knew a couple of things about Jesus and God. My aunt and grandmother used to take me to church as a child. I was in Sunday school. I went to Catholic school for 7th and 8th grades. I wasn’t completely ignorant but, there was something that wasn’t right. I remembered hearing somebody say that Freud, the very Sigmund Freud had his doubts too and decided that whether or not he believed, he would live as though there was a God, just in case He really was real, he’d save him self from hell. I adopted that idea to protect myself while I figured out what Christ was all about, for myself. I was extremely confused about the Christian umbrella. If everyone reads from the same Kings James Bible, then why are there so many different Christian denominations. Honestly, the number of denominations isn’t the issue, it’s the fact that each one believes they have the answer or the way to salvation over the other denominations. Each denomination believes they have the inside scoop as to what gets you to heaven because they seek to convert you. Every member of one Christian denomination sentences to a member of another Christian denomination always seem to begin persuasively with, “Well, we believe ….” That still bothers me and it’s always been my biggest issue. It wasn’t until I began to read for myself that I began to appreciate things in a different kind of way.

The great book of Proverbs changed my life. Then Proverbs was complimented by Ecclesiastes and I was a little bit more powerful. Genesis came through giving me a whole new lease on life and what it was all about. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, made me WWJD, from the bottom of my heart and Acts of the Apostles and the introduction of Paul confirmed a whole lot of things for me. Galatians opened my eyes, Corinthians and Ephesians made me feel safe. Esther gave a lot …. The list goes on. Each book of Scripture answered all kinds of questions, gave me insight, pushed me to use my emotions to their fullest potential, among other valuable tools to live the good life.

What are your experiences reading the Bible? What is your favorite Book? Do you have a particular passage that you love?

Me and HIM and The Smirk that Started it All (Part 1)

So, my dad was out of my life for well over a decade. When I was about 25, I bumped into him, on the humble one day, visiting my grandmother. Yes, I know … Sounds a little dysfunctional, right? … bumping into my dad on the humble … but as this blog progresses, my personal story will manifest itself. Things weren’t bad for me at the time, in my head, but, if my memory serves me correctly, I had been displaced for almost 2 years. A very humbling experience, I must say! At any rate, after catching up for hours, he said, “Go to this address and knock on the door, some people will be waiting to meet you, I’m not even going to call!” He smirked his smirk that became so symbolic. Turns out, he had really good secrets, but they weren’t really secrets people just think that they are or thought that they were – his reason for always smirking.

One project building sat on a corner in New York City’s East Village. That’s where the apartment was. A real project building, right in the middle of where residents are paying more than a thousand dollars for their studio, where people own condos and lofts, where tour buses host tourists, where people come to party, where Law & Order shoots, and where celebrities wander after shopping in Soho, only 4 blocks away.

When I knocked on the door, someone looked through the peephole, but they didn’t open the door. Instead, they came back and looked again. A moment later, I heard them slide the chain-lock. Quietly, they unlocked the top lock, and the last the little bottom lock, which was a simple little click. It was very, very dramatic and I was a nerve wreck. The drama unfolds as the door slowly creaked open to reveal three star-struck teens. My step-brother and two step-sisters.

“Oh my god,” the boy breathed giving us everything … He bent his knees, he had his hand over his mouth, his eyebrows were raised. When I say everything, he gave it all. With a tear in his eye, he looked me dead on, the girls were statued, and he said, “It’s you. You’re his daughter!” Still giving, he turned to his sisters and said, “It’s BruShonna.” Why couldn’t there have been a camera man? He grabbed me first, but they all, thirstily, buried themselves wherever they could, fit. I still hadn’t said a word, but I was crying. I had no clue who these teens were, but I loved them instantly, and when I say they loved me, I just had to figure out what was the situation.

Turns out, my dad raised them. They were his girlfriends children, but they honored him like he was the man! In that house, my dad was like the king … sure, they tried to over throw him a couple of times, as did I, but he always came out on top. I hung around till the next morning, then again till the next morning, then again and again, and next thing you know, I’m on my way out for coffee and he says, “You know ‘Little One’, seems like you always been here.” I just smiled really hard. Six months had flown by and I was having the time of my life.

My dad was a different kind of smart. His smartness was so smart, he would say something or respond to something and it would leave you stuck on stupid for up to 17 seconds while your brain processes and registers what he meant. Meanwhile, he’d be sitting there with that smirk, watching through you as if he was watching your brain trying to figure itself out because the moment it does, the moment all of the wheels start moving in the direction of his riddle, he’d let out a boisterous laugh! Laughing from the gut, it take him forever to choke out this one sentence, “Hey! Hey! Hey ‘Little One’!” By now he’d be dying with laughter, “I didn’t write that!” He had some kind of inside joke with himself, that tickled him silly. I could still hear him laughing at me, laughing at his girlfriend and her kids, his friends, everyone, he would get this joke off on. “I didn’t, I didn’t write that!” Laughing so hard, sometimes a tear would drop.

One day, we were debating back and forth. I was getting tired of him laughing at me, talking in riddles, always having these really genius answers but claiming he got them from somewhere else. The smirk, I was sick of it! If he got all of these mind-blowing “jewels” from another source, refined enough to smirk confidently, then I knew it was obtainable for me too. I wanted a smirk, so I could do to others what he has done to me. When I saw the smirk starting to build, I felt my blood begin to boil. A year and some change later, he was still on top using references from an unnamed source. “Hey ‘Little One’! Hey, I didn’t write that!” I’d had enough!

“Well who’s writing this stuff then Daddy?!” I was being very demanding and serious, but the seriousness of it was overshadowed by me no longer believing he had a secret source of knowledge. “Did one person write this? Or is this just a collaboration of things that you have read? Where do you get these ideas from, Daddy?!”

“The Bible.”

The Degradation – Part 1

“When the special feeling is gone, it’s over.” She didn’t get it. I could tell by her response. “For you, maybe.” I laughed, but she wasn’t playing. “Babe? Your special feeling is gone! It is over for you!” She looked very confused, so I said, “Oh, I’m just supposed to sit around my girlfriend who doesn’t have the special feeling for me? I can feel it!” Then with a tisk and a disgusted look on my face I finished with, “I can’t live like that!”

Seriously, y’all, I can’t! I could understand if I was some kind of dog that has been dogging her out for the 3 years we’ve been together, but the mistakes that I am being charged with would have only helped us, not hurt us. Her first defense is probably her best defense: “I told you in the beginning that I might need some more time.” This idea, I have a hard time getting around, but, at the end of the day, I do. I knew she was in an effed up situation when we met. She’d been taken advantage of by an older woman who preyed on women like her. My respect for the fact that she didn’t have a moment to herself is a huge part of the reason I am as complacent as I have been with her. It’s why I haven’t built any friendships outside of the people I work with. It’s why I’ve always tried to listen and communicate with her as effectively as I could no matter how dumb the issue was that she was flipping, and I mean flipping, out about. Every waking moment, I’ve showed her that she has nothing to worry about with me loving her. She could confidently go out into the world knowing that I am completely smitten by her and only her.

Today I found out that it was me getting a second job that was the beginning of our breakdown. I shouldn’t have taken time away from our relationship. I remember the breakdown being the second job, but not how she remembers it. Her story is that we didn’t need the money and I was trying to match her income. My story is, when I got the second job, even though I explained the strain it was going to put on our relationship, that we were going to come out on top. The second job fulfilled a lot of things for me personally and that alone does wonders for a relationship, but when you add in the extra income …. We were planning on going back to school and I really wanted us to have a cushion because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to work as much and if I or we didn’t want to work too hard, we wouldn’t have to. All I wanted for us was a cushion so we could really be on the road to being the power couple I saw us being … All of the elements were there. However, I wound up leaving that year with a lot of resentments. The weekends were the only time I had to really sleep good. Before I got the lap top and her addiction to Facebook began drilling the relationship into the ground, I’d wake up to tension. How could I fall asleep knowing this was the only time we had to spend with one another? Maybe because when I come home I have to go to the store, get our food and our weed. And if that isn’t enough, we have to take turns rolling. I just imagined who cares about one year of working hard for our future if we together are in it for the long haul? She never got it. This actually goes right into the next part of how she has managed to not take responsibility for the degradation of this relationship as I like to call it.

So one day, while at work, I told her on my break that I needed to talk to her. I explained to her that I needed a little more support, because the schedule I work is straining. Everyday, for 7 days, I was up at 3:50am and with the exception of the weekend, I wouldn’t get home until 8. The weekends she was off and everyday she got home before me, why would she want to watch me come home and do anything? She would always talk to me about some people and what they do in relationships, but there is no way that someone comes home and waits for the other person to come home so they can do house stuff and prepare the evening and the person’s physical work day is longer. She worked a 9-5, 5 days a week. I worked 5am-7:30pm, Mon-Fri and the weekends I worked 5:30a-2p. It was at this moment, I’m about 4 months into the 2nd job, she tells me she needs romance. I should have seen what I was dealing with then!

First Review: 50 Shades of Grey

 

I heard about it months ago on the 10 o’clock news. Shortly after, Dr. Oz dedicated an entire segment of his show to it. Women, from all walks of life, had been changed, along with the dynamics of the intimate relationships they were in by it. The whispers and blatant posts of people I personally knew and interacted with. And one day, she turned to me and said, “We need that book!” If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know first hand that there is something we need. Sure, the idea that a book is going to bring us out of the phase that we are in at the moment is hilarious, but, at that moment, all we knew was we loved each other and anything someone said might work, we were both willing to try.

Her on her kindle app and me on mine, we each downloaded the first installment of the trilogy. This book was rekindling flames and sparking sparks in people and relationships that dried up years ago. As a matter of fact, just the other day, one of my childhood friends posts on FB read, “After reading the Fifty Shades of Grey books, my shopping list includes handcuffs, blindfolds, a whip, and some wine …” About a week later, I heard particular “toys” were flying off the rack and the increase in sales in certain departments reflected that and experts believed it was because of the book. By this time, though, I’d already finished the first and the majority of the second parts of the story, realizing that I too had been moved – I wanted a submissive of my own, that would come and visit my girlfriend and I on the weekends. The most amazing part of that idea, though is the confidence I have knowing I would know exactly what to do with her.

Reading this book has been extremely pleasurable. Pleasurable is no surprise, either. The content of the book is erotic; the book falls into the erotica section of book stores. But, besides the content and nature of the book, the book itself and how plots and characters came to fruition, how the author manipulated every literary tool at his disposal to introduce Christian’s sexually deviant lifestyle and accompanying behaviors, expectations, and the deep rooted issues that perpetuated the mercurial antagonist of the book. I really appreciated being turned into Anastasia each time I turned the page. He exposed her to a life she couldn’t wrap her head around, but then again she could at the same time. She, just like the majority of readers had never been exposed to the contents of the book, but just like Anastasia who is described by Christian Grey as always ready and very curious each reader thirstily continues to turn the page.

The reader, just like Christian’s Ana finds themselves exhilarated. This is a mesmerizing story, although, it wouldn’t be if it weren’t for the authors presentation and style. Thanks to the authors genius, we can find a lot of ourselves, to our damned surprise, in each lover. No matter how much I could tangibly imagine adopting some of Christian’s style to make my own, at the end of the day, I, and the majority of other readers are the author’s Anastasia. The longing the book insights is complimented by the author and how it’s fed to us. And if by chance the longing that is felt isn’t to find and Anastasia or be a Christian Grey, I can guarantee you will long to experience the chemistry and energy shared between the two which gets a lot of respect!

If you haven’t picked up 50 Shades of Grey, you haven’t lived. If you can’t appreciate the content, you could find joy in how the author commands the attention and physical emotions of the reader. If the content is too steamy, use it as a tool to educate yourself on different ways of life. Also, it doesn’t hurt to know – while it falls in the erotica section of the book store, this is an amazing love story. The next post is going to discuss the actual book, so don’t divulge too much information, but how did this book make you feel? Did it do anything for you?

The Sheik who Played with Children: You Can Call Me B!

I did not have to delve into my deeper self, nor did I have to analyze every line to get the gist of what was being said. In Rumi’s, The Sheikh who Played With Children, I was the sheikh of which the story is told. Unlike Rumi’s other poems, this poem was a blatant translation. The metaphors, instead of being wrapped in each line of prose, they are the circumstances of the story that is being told poetically. The poem itself is straight forward in the sense that it tells a story from the beginning to the end. What needs to be analyzed in this poem, though, are the physical events, which I will shed some light on. A great, great poem, indeed, relatively speaking, it completed me. I will therefore use this poem as a platform to introduce myself.

The people here want to put me in charge. They want me to be judge, magistrate, and interpreter of all texts. The knowing I have doesn’t want that. It wants to enjoy itself. I am a plantation of sugarcane, and at the same time I’m eating the sweetness. -Rumi

A guy comes to town and asks one of the residents the whereabouts of a wise person. The resident points to a man playing with children. This man is riding a stick horse. The resident mentions how deep this man’s wisdom flows and concludes the statement saying, “…but he conceals it in the madness of child’s play.” The guy goes over to the kids and the man riding the stick horse and he asks to know a secret. The man was not interested, plus, the stick horse he was riding was being unruly. After a short plea, the supposed wise man stops without playing, as his stick horse will not obey his commands to relax.

At this point, the guy who came in search of a wise person, could not bear to ask a serious question to a man riding a stick horse employed by his childish imaginary, so instead he jokingly asks if there is a woman to marry in the neighborhood. The man gives him some general information about the types of women in the world and tries to get back to the children and his game. The guy wants to know more; he wants him to explain what he means. The sheikh galloped back and explains in depth, but basically, what he said. The guy, who was once joking must have realized he was before a man of great wisdom and intellect because he calls him “Master” and asks to ask one more question.

What is this playing that you do? Why do you hide your intelligence so? -Rumi

Call it a case of hindsight bias, a premonition, the holy spirit; call it what you want, but I knew this poem was going to arrive at this question. From the moment the resident pointed the sheikh out, I knew exactly what this poem was about. How did I know? Figuratively and/or metaphorically speaking, I too can be found playing with children and when I am found, I am doing so for the very same reason. Unlike Rumi, though, I was not born in the 1200’s, perhaps two decades before this poem was written, but in 1981, centuries later. Yet, the logic of this poem is a logic that I live by today. It’s a logic that keeps me fresh, young, and up with the Jones’.

I do not want to be the boss. For one, the boss is the top hit in mafia wars and in my personal life not only do I not like my current boss, there have been bosses that I have not liked before and I have heard about ogres from people that I personally know and respect. Also, the work that has to be accomplished in order to be considered a good boss is emotionally draining and that type of work often goes unnoticed because the dynamics of it can not be understood. I do not care to be rich, either. We know the song, Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems, we’ve heard that money is the root of all evil, we know the stock people put in money, as well as the blood, sweat, and tears, I do not have to reiterate those ideas. I simply do not want to be rich because richness is relative from what I see – What is rich in America is not the same rich that is found in other cultures. As a matter of fact, most other cultures put stock in other cultural goals that perpetuate financial stability. I want to explore and indoctrinate myself in ethics that will perpetuate money. I do not want to be the life of the party because those people are envied and most of all, I would rather not be considered smart.

All I do is watch and think. I do my best to put my little observations, experiences and resources together to find the answer or answers that make sense. I enjoy looking at different possibilities and acting accordingly. I think there is a story to be told in everything and I do genuinely enjoy storytelling. Human nature is interesting and so is behavior. I want to make the most out of every interaction that I have with another human being and I enjoy transforming the smallest things into something to learn from. Perhaps these things are smart or these are the things that a smart person does or enjoys, but no one really likes a know it all, so I humble myself. Perhaps it is smart of me to humble myself or is it that smart people know when and how to humble themselves? Either way, I flirt with humility for ethical purposes and for my own personal morality: As many dumb decisions as I have made, am making, and will make, I can not accept, with a straight face someone thinking that I am any smarter than they are.

For this reason, I play video games, me and my partner of 3 years are still found a love that is old school. I have loads of fun at my part-time job at an established coffee house making peanuts at 30 years old, I’m in school, I know all of the hot urban dances and songs, I joke around, and I smile even though this is an ignorant and sad city. I have to grow up a couple of times in a month, sometimes. For some months, I have to grow up once or twice in a week and when/if my back is up against the wall, growing up is not even a second thought, it comes naturally. I use growing up as a defense mechanism and I only do it when I have to, otherwise, just like in the poem, the expectations for the supposed smartness that I seem to have would drain me of the inherent ability I have to find happiness.

The poem mentions before it closes that people use their smartness for show and to argue and either way, pretty much, there isn’t any glory in that. Rumi ends this poem pretty much saying keep your smarts to yourself and you will look better.

The African Cab Driver

“When you listen to the woman, you lose,” with emphasis on lose, “because they are mad! It’s a sickness.” You know the accent, it’s laden with French, Spanish, Pourtugese undertones and with it, he proclaims that, “The woman is like a child. They whine and complain. They are never satisfied! It’s for that reason you lose if you listen!”

UPS was supposed to deliver a package that had time sensitive material at a designated time. Unfortunately, I missed it, because instead, they came while I was at work. After tracking the package and making a few calls, I was instructed to pick it up from the customer care center. Of course, by this time, time is of the essence and by public transportation the trip to this center is a little over an hour and either I’d be making it in there by the skin of my teeth or they would be closed by the time I got off the last bus I had to take and ran frantically to the location. Needless to say, I called a cab.

I’d waited outside for the cab and as he pulled up, my phone rang. It was the cab base telling me that he was outside. He rolled down the window and said with the hugest smile, “Is it me, Baby? Is it me that you are waiting for?” His teeth were ivory and his skin was laced with black gold. I should have known it was going to be a fun ride. Less than 2 minutes into the ride we began making small talk.

Come to find out, Mike as he likes to be called is the father of 8 children from 8 different women and the only reason he doesn’t have anymore is he alone doesn’t feel like it. However, in his experience with how he has broken the woman down into a science believes that if he decided he wanted a baby, it would take him a few days and whomever he sets his eye on to carry his seed who do as he wished.

According to Mike, if you listen you lose, if you tell the truth you lose, if you give them what they say they need you lose. Most importantly, a woman should always be in want as it is their job; it’s what they live for. Make the woman want you, you should never want a woman. And as he is dropping these diamonds on me from the mines of his wisdom, my 3 years with her are flashing through my head. Wouldn’t you know, he seems to be right. If I’d went in with these ideas, guess what? I’d still be on top. What do you say to his ideas? What do you say to the idea that in looking back on what I have been going through, I think he is absolutely right?

Ordinary People

John Legend sang it in a song, “We’re just ordinary people, we don’t know which way to go/’Cause we’re ordinary people, maybe we should take it slow.

And if you’ve never heard the song, it was a neo-soulish jam, early in the 2000s.  Amazing, amazing song.  No, seriously.  I was in my early 20s when it came out and I remember, once I got past the beautiful melody of his piano marrying his words and realized the significance of the song that I was singing, I almost lost my natural mind.  As a matter of fact, looking back on it, I truly believe I was too young to have received that message.

When I finally understood what I was singing in singing the song, I cried, because already, in my early 20s I’d experienced exactly what was being sang.  However, I never thought the answer was so damned simple:

“We’re just ordinary people, we don’t know which way to go…”

And in its simplicity, it breaks my heart.

Wait!! My mom, Nana, aunt Donna, Mrs. Lewis, everyone and meeeee too??

I listened to that song for months and for months, in response, I observed behaviors to the best of my ability and it became a habit.

I am always observing with the hopes that one day the song won’t be as true to me as it is.  If not a decade, approaching a decade later, to my dismay the song has only gotten truer.

This song, though I do not appreciate what it is saying, I have to admit – once I understood what was being said, it grew me up instantly and nowadays, years and years later, it makes me feel better when I am confused about someones behaviors that are directly affecting me.

To this day, I still make the mistake of giving people too much credit and since I am included in the song, I’ll add that I also make the mistakes of expecting too much out of myself and being too hard on myself.

“We’re just ordinary people, we don’t know which way to go/’Cause we’re ordinary people, maybe we should take it slow.

Though, this song can act as a key or the key to unlocking a better internal emotional environment, this song is and forever will be an insult.  I just wish more people would be mindful of what this song is saying.  And by being mindful, when looking and dealing with the ordinariness around you, don’t forget to recognize the ordinariness inside of your own self.