No Fault

I find it hard to fault women when they’re in their ‘pick me’ phase because I was there, I get it, but I hope they get out of it.
It’s a lot of work unpacking that yap-yap.  But, it’s worth it because you feel better about yourself.
Sometimes, when I hear a woman cluck her pick me rhetoric, I have an, “Okay, but, let’s think about this” approach. I give a counter-argument, and usually, there is no rebuttal. Not that I won the debate, it’s just I remember when I used to think that mess was okay.
Other times, I have an “I did that, so hopefully, none of Y’all would have to go through that” message toward it.
Either way, I hope they get out.
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9:29 P.M.

Self-preservation should be a permanent vacation, but there is no wake in the setting. I’m betting he’s going to try one more time to lie to himself that he’s fine, but this time, apparently, he’s going to “mean it.”

I’ve seen this time and time again. He sends us into a tailspin that thing can’t stay the same and change has to remain. Thus deep down inside, he’s only trying to hide the significant fact that’s he a brute and a horrible man to boot. Instead of working on his aura, he instead grabs a bat and takes a swing at being a whole new person–a whole new being.

Now, it’s all about a secret wins and free spins as the parade goes on. He’s never going to settle what he has drawn to himself in the past, that kind of self-reflection won’t last in the game he’s playing with society. I applaud him once more as I consider this folklore I’m going to assume as reality.

11:24 P.M.

You’re staring at everything you hate about you.

“look at this fool,” you obsessively yawn.

You make this routine— the ‘self-hatred’ song.

Don’t you realize, the most robust conversation you have is with yourself?

You can’t let your esteem falter, like an unstable shelf.

Self confidence is a skill that takes time to create.

That little advice sure sets the mood straight.

How long it takes to hone this skill is never wrong,

because the self-hate thing can only last for so long.

Then you start to crumble in the ashes you make.

Of striving to be something else, something you died to fake.

 

12:03 A.M.

I left a truth that I was an image; a crappy token. I thought I spoke their language no, it wasn’t showing. I made time to catch their issues when they failed, but my existence was a mere springboard to their wails.  Oppressive things, they thought we had in common; it was alarming to find out they thought this was a cute way for deep bonding. They fed off of plagiarized words with shapeshifting careless bases; as they take the credit while I’m remaining nameless.  All the money spent —I call it time, the snakes would jump out and boast as entitled swine.   Take it upon themselves to make things even weirder. I thought my dismissal was disgustingly clear.

Now that partnership is dead.  Oops, they misread.

They thought I was a scribe, no run in bribes.

Kicked them out with no look back, now they feel attacked.

The news rocked that I was bad, but really I was glad.

 

 

Notes on a Culture: Attraction

I can’t stand when someone does not find a person physically attractive based on personal opinion, and they act like judge, jury, and executioner. Some people go on campaign trails to point out every little flaw a person has no matter how unnecessarily vapid they come across. The truth is, we do this as a society. We give better treatment to people that won the genetic lottery in different shapes and forms such as better employment, the wider range of romantic choices, and rushed forgiveness for abusive behavior. However, if you have been conditioned to have faith in that you do not meet the standard of beauty— don’t believe it. Someone likes the way you just the way you are. Even though you may not like it, there is always someone admiring you in a brazenly silent way. I don’t mean in a menacing stalker way. I mean in a way that someone right now, as you read this, is secretly appreciating your looks.

We are not going to be stunning to everyone we see, on the same token, we are not going to find everyone we see aesthetically pleasing, and that’s okay. That’s why there are different choices on a menu at a restaurant, we all like different things. We can come to the general consensus about how being considered mainstream attractive gets you amazing benefits, but that’s not the things I am going for. I am talking about finding oneself attractive. Being comfortable with how you look.

Why not consider yourself attractive? No one else has to agree because no one else is you. We put too much pressure on ourselves based on what others may or may not think of us. Some people change their whole persona based on internalized marketing research. One way to think about this is when someone is made fun of a physical characteristic like the shape of their nose, after years of torment, they get plastic surgery to “fix it” after, they get jeered for not leaving their face the “way it was.”  We don’t have to live under the circumstance of what others may think of us. We all have things beautiful about ourselves, it is a matter of being comfortable in recognizing those beautiful things on a constant scales in face of adversity of someone trying to tear you down.

Grasp the fact that the most intense conversation you will ever have in your life is with yourself in your head. what you tell yourself dictates how you move about in the world around you, your reality is solely based on your interpretation of it. So, why be negative towards yourself? Your opinion of yourself should aline with what you think of yourself, no what you think others want you to be., Of course, there are going to be people that don’t find you attractive and will find nasty and rude ways of showing their distaste for you. You may run into people that are just finding ways to hurt your self-esteem because they feel bad about themselves. However, you can think to yourself you re the most precious thing in the world and no one can take that away from you.

In Dreams

I pictured us together in daydreams, you know–fantasies.

I would buy him myrrh as if he was divinity.

So, when reality touched me to see where he was giggling.

It killed me to see, how little I live in totality.

The Time

It’s the hurried sensation that was wrong

the feverish fantasy I refused to deny

the fire in his eyes

the tired rings I spun my lies

the times I refused the care

the fun we had in underwear

the other lies I passed time with

the time you took your pride and precious time with you

and said goodbye to my unstable tides

and here I blame everyone for my strong desire to destroy.

 

 

 

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Political Shade #2

Social media edition

I love a good social media battle, sometimes. I am the first to sit down in the season ticket holder area to watch gladiator fight with intensity. I get the gist why the two sides are at odds–I always check the information on the back of the ticket. However, as I tune carnage with delight. I notice something off about the way the fight is displayed, there is more spectator rushing down the aisles to fight.  I begrudgingly remark I have seen this mêlée before; it is like watching a music video back to back with the same dance moves, lyrics, and beat, just with different musicians.  The theme is unsurprising:  someone leaked sensitive information about an individual, for the sake of ridicule and embarrassment. As the clash heads on, the formulaic protocol manifest by, share shade (when the warring faction shares a statement Witten by someone on the outside of the drama[usually from a close messy friend]),  the influx of new followers, and supportive spectators using their hometown hero for a stepping stool to gain popularity.

Shade share happens when sides want to highlight support they have in times of battle. Primarily, the gladiator will shade share a message with someone they are close to in the physical world. These messages are crafted to attack the other side’s credibility and focus on the beloved SMF (social media figure) working tirelessly to help people in need. Salacious drama with implied plugs to the SMF good work, bring out crowds showing interest. Shortly after, new follower and friend requests take shape. As the numbers of new faces explode, the battle becomes muddled; no one is exactly sure what needs to be done in order for both sides to come to an agreement to settle things. Share shades derail work that needs rectifying.

A Huge announcement made by spectators, as they fly down the aisle, looking for a fight. The battle transforms into a continual war. Instead of the two sides solely focusing on the issues. They are focusing on spectators making announcements on where their alliances lie as well as the issue they originally have with the other side. Spectator support is conditional. As long as the faction keeps making the happy by their words, then they will add unnecessary drama on their favorite faction’s behalf. Most time, when people pick a side. They are not picking who they think is ultimate right, they are picking who they think will ultimately win the battle in the court of public opinion. When announcements take place, the spectator may find the fame as a gladiator.

Spectators meddling in affairs that have nothing to do with them can land them with fame and support they were giving their favorite SMF. The rise of stardom on the back of someone else’s drama is how many people get their shot at internet fame, the only problem is the way they reach the top is the way you’re going down, and the spectator usually finds themselves ill equipped to handle a battle when drama comes their way.

It’s a shame when battles take place with the familiar framework that someone leaked information they were not supposed to. Nevertheless, when spectators start to over exaggerate their place in the fight because of shade sharing; that’s when the battle ceases to be about the parties involved and more about the spectators fighting in the name of being included. Spectators take it to the next level with the announcements that are unnecessary as they unwittingly make their way to the top of the social media food chain. I complain that this battle is too staged, and this has been done before.

I am complaining as I am glued firmly to my seat with my season pass in my grip.

 

 

Art

I give kids paint, that won’t dry till December

call the art names I won’t really remember.

that’s when they told me, your morals are phony

lust only finds you, the men that remind you.

 

Painting a soul doing lines in an orange chair, soothe me-

–or maybe it’s when I take pictures of wanders invading cooly.

I don’t really know. I should really know.