only he.

my Mr. Rightfornow -- and that's how it will be for now.

don't ask me how, time considered, this happened to me.

the girl he knows as "Lee". as if he knows me.

but he glances like he does. 

that look as if he sees the kept secrets in my eyes.

my mouth stays shut but my eyes say it all and my body says more...

to him at least.

he knows what he doesn't know he knows.

he gives them to me. i take them.

like candy to a baby, i can't fake them.

indeed i've experienced something of the sort,

but never of this caliber.

this must be the way it's supposed to feel... for now at least.

I Care 4 You plays. he takes my secrets and makes them known truths.

the climax, the lomax, and in between.

it's only when I get it there with you.

i need that feeling only you've brought me.

only you can bring me. those pleasure pains.

what words?

Languages differ across the board, creating limitations on verbal communication around every corner. Even within one common language there exist different dialects that often lead to misunderstanding. Yet there is one language that can be spoken, heard, and felt universally... love. Once we learn to communicate with love, we will all be on the same page.

How do you speak what you feel in sensible words? The art I have yet to master.
I know what I mean... I just wish you did.
Our speech sounds the same yet our languages are opposite polar extremes.
Soft tone to loud mouth.
You speak,
I SHOUT....
I'm sorry.
You know what I meant... it just didn't come out right.

I know you understand me. You just don't know it yet.
So until common verbiage surfaces, let us bask in what we do know.
You care. I care. And we've got a lifetime to grow.
At the end of the day, no one word can express
this soft
steady beat
that you've caused
in my chest.

A Genuine Mask

Let's go to a masquerade ball, where we owe no one the truth, just cheshire smiles and bottomless eyes.

Where pretending isn't frowned upon because it's the name of the game.

No question what's behind the facade, no quest for reason as to why you put it up.

Basking in imagination because real life is like a poison.

Taking sips of red Kool-Aid as we casually discuss the world's end.

Seeking a matching mask to act as a conversation piece, yet we care not care about trials, tribulations, and griefs.

Tell me the good, the gossip is great. They shun us for our whispers, but they help avoid sight of our own fate.

Tell me I'm grand, tell me I'm fine. Tell me everything except what's truly on your mind.

Painted on features sell me dreams of temptation, lifeless eyes give me hope for body numbing relations.

How dare you lie to my mask as I seek truth upon your twisted porcelain face.

This party's cover charge came with a baggage check for free, yet you just unloaded your passport and suitcase upon me. 

So is it my mask that you seek? Or the faceless being behind it? I'd rather enjoy the crippling festivities before you, or I, find... IT.

Truth is all we need, but sometimes it's the last thing that we want.

Inspired by "The Wolf"

Illusttration credits: "Wolf Woman" by Niko Guardio

The bitch goddess.... to love her is to die.
Your poison is her eyes.
Assassinated with her stride, lured by the secrets of her thighs.

La belle dame sans merci. To show desire is to make her your prey.
Eroticized stares in her direction lead to a reflection-perfect smirk,
then the tender release from her venomous voice box.

She pities no naivety; her victims are self made.
Made vulnerable by their own far wishes to become her idol slave.

Lay down with she and make her fortress your coffin.
The sweet joy of her surrender overcomes you; she officially owns you.
Your physical and mental, passionately slain, hand cooked and devoured by she,
the temptress.

Life. With Pen in Hand.

"How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live."

As a strong believer in these wise words of Henry David Thoreau I have often become hesitant in fueling my passion to write, forcing my back to the ropes with the question: 

"Have you lived?" 

Or better yet... 

"Are you living?"

And being the simple being that many of us tend to evolve from, I tried to find the answer. But the answer was in front of me all the while. If you have to question whether or not you're living... you're not. And if one does it right, there will never be a point when one can say "I have lived" because life only ends when we decide to leave it to be amongst the walking dead.

Words mean more when they grow with you. Simultaneously living and writing gives depth to those lines previously penned.

Growth. An essential factor in the act of "living". 

My words will have no meaning unless I take them with me throughout life. 

We coexist. We evolve.

Below is the piece that led to my epiphany. 

5.29.12

I have so many journals

yet I don't write.

Hundreds of blank pages

on which I draw more blanks.

Plenty of lines on a sheet 

but I still can't fill them

... and why?

Because in order to exist...

Words need Inspiration.

Inspiration needs Experience.

Experience needs Life.

So it's safe to say that Words need Life....

a Life that I must breathe into them....

But have not yet found for myself.

I must pick up my pen... to live.

Phoenix.

I've worked.
I've schooled.
I've read.
I've wrote.
I've thought.
I've loved.
I've cried.
I've fought.
I've won.
I've lost.
I've fallen.
I've gotten up.


And now I've come...
to conquer.

During my consecutive hiatuses from the web life (or from sharing my deepest to most shallow of thoughts online) I have tackled many obstacles in my way of becoming a woman. I took time away to focus on challenges in my life that I felt were holding me back. Yet, I still see many ahead. And I've come to learn that this will always be the case. So why put what you enjoy on hold to face what you will never, regardless of what peace you have within, be able to destroy? And then I look at my arm: Hakuna Matata.


I thank the Higher Spirits that guide me for placing me on this crash course towards my dreams, goals, and most importantly, the superlative state they call Nirvana. Once insurmountable tribulations have become step stools on my quest, and those experiences have only brought me giant leaps closer to the top. I have grown fond of those memories, no matter how devastating they one appeared. I am woman, unmatched in ability, love, courage, and strength all at the same time.


This, now, is my time. I have something to say, and this page is once again my place to say it. 

Be blessed. Peace. 

Thoughts.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so why don't you see it?
Life is what you make it, but I can't make it what I want.
I've never seen silver in a cloud, the thing is I probably never will.
There's a reason why this happened, but what happened to chance?
You lie to spare feelings and cut yourself to feel good.
Pleasure is pain and pain is love.
And all this down here came from that place above?
Everything, not one word you utter.... lacks contradiction.

The Friend I Made

Today's Rescue Mission

What are shelters good for? I've been dialing for hours and have spoken to one useless piece of human who directed me to an animal rescue organization located 4 hours away because her shelter doesn't accept big dogs. But I know what she really meant to say is that Pitbulls aren't welcome there.

It sucks that these beautiful dogs are looked at as such a liability. My new friend is so friendly, despite his malnourishment at the hands of the most harmful being on the face of this earth.

So while vets and shelter workers are busy "saving" animals, this poor guy is panting for a drink on my front doorstep. Go figure.

the appetizer swindle... !!

Why the fuck are restraurant appetizers better than the fucking entrees?

An intentional mishap. The price of the appetizers (especially if eating with a party that loves to get the grubs and order the three platter sampler) is nearly as much as the entree. We just see them first and see what we like. We've subconsciously been taught that when we order an appetizer the big ass entree comes next! But truth be told we look forward to the appetizers more. And most times they're more "appetizing" than the damn entree itself. [So THAT'S where the name came from?]

Of course they wouldn't make a switcharoo of the menu [which would make us go whoop dee doo] and put those crap-for-shit entrees as the teaser.
haha at myself though. This wouldn't be an issue if I was breaking pockets in a high-class, or just higher average priced eatery.

Moral of the story: more often than less we need to build a meal out of those front of the menu delights.

**I am just a little frustrated because I can never make it past the appetizer section of Friday's menu. Quick spazz.**

Now I Get It

Success is all in branding yourself.

Sean Carter said it best: "I'm not a businessman, I'm a business man." You are what you make yourself. When looking at the a woman like Oprah Winfrey one has many rights to ponder her undeniable success despite societal disadvantages in a society of "-isms". Take what matters to you most and construct an empire that has one main goal: make that shit happen.

Deliberate. Design. Do.

*inspired by Michael Skolnik*

words

I'm stuck trying to find a title to this post. It's like, what do I say to the people that have been tapping me on the shoulder "what's going on with the 'L' Word Chronicles?" I've prolonged this enough.
When i thought I was ready to come back, I wasn't. I now realize that I didn't have much to say. I just hated the thought of neglecting my writing, not admitting that the block was there.
Mid-last sentence I found the title: "words". Because who knows what this whole thing means. All you and I know is that the words are coming from my fingertips. Not sure if you care, just thought I should share. But it's clear that it may mean something since you're here. So I won't fluff this any further.

Quote of the Day

Be brave enough to be vulnerable.

- @mshaysoul

The most head-strong people miss out on something good because they aren't willing to give their heart an opportunity to think. It takes strength to be courageous, but it also takes the willingness to succumb to weakness, hurt or pain.

Self Realization: The Perils of Composition

Too often during my writing (whether it be a blog post, a school paper, or even simply a text message) I find myself stuck at a single thought. The common goal we have in composing any type of piece, both factual and narrative, is that the reader "gets it". More times than less, especially when addressing a topic we feel passionate about, we tend to be wordy or trip ourselves up (so to speak). In turn we lose direction and our audience. I know what I want to say; my thoughts are clear as day to me. But how do I convey my thoughts so that the target audience understands?

The challenge is not just finding the words, but fashioning those words to be comprehended by more than just oneself. 

It Starts with Us

Can you believe our future lies in the hands of someone 2 feet tall?

Last week I went along with a few others to Horace E. Green daycare, a non-profit center that caters to children of low-income families in Brooklyn. Along with us we took over 200 books that were collected during a children's book drive. We talked with them, we read to them, we gave them books and then we left. But we left something important there: a message to those children and their parents that someone else cares.

As I sat with a group of about 15 kids on a classroom floor, I listened to the compassion in their teacher's voice as he went over the moral lesson in The Little Red Hen. It reminded me of something President Obama touched on in his State of the Union address. He called everyone to take responsibility for instilling educational values in children at an early age. He also brought pride to the title "teacher," regarding them as the most important people in our nation.

I couldn't agree with him more, for what would our world be if we had no one to teach us about it? The moment we leave our parents arms we are left in the hands of a stranger, someone who knows nothing about us but seems to know everything. From these people, these strangers, we gain an appreciation for learning. They're the first to help us turn on that brain vacuum; the one with a life-long battery, but a manual control panel. It starts with them... the missionaries.

We benefit just as much, maybe even more, from the presence of street teachers. Those being the people outside of the classroom that bestow knowledge beyond academics and citizenship: neighbors, dance instructors, coaches, even the ice cream man. From these familiar faces we gain perspective and receive guidance on life and the lessons that come along with it.

With my favorite quote ingrained in my sub-conscience, I remind you that "it takes a village..."

Take the responsibility.

Muse, My Muse

The one person I can't resist taking pictures of...

 @chicken_grease

 featuring the mean snake from upstairs.

123.