Loss of Faith

Every Sunday morning since my father got married I've sat on a red pew in church. My step mother in a minister and my father is her husband. They've been wed since September 2007, and since that time we've been a "family". It feels like their exchanging vows has forced me into the marriage. I don't want to be married.
Sunday service starts at 11 a.m. and before we got married, my father and I never went to church so it does bother me to sit thru service for 3 hours when I'm not totally sold on what I'm being told from behind the pulpit. This past Sunday I had a revelation- not really but that's what I'm going to call it. I figured that I no longer wanted to be associated with the idea of "organized religion", or what I associated with that term. I was raised as a "Christian" (though we never went to church), but sitting in the sanctuary this day I promised myself that I would never fully believe what another human being says about religion. This day, the pastor claimed that Christianity was the way to go and Islam, Buddhism, etc. was not correct and faithful believers of those religions would go to hell. This comment stopped me right in my tracks.
I support believing in (individual) sanctimonious beliefs, but when you claim that everyone else is wrong and you are right- that's where I draw the line. When it comes to the idea of religion, how are individuals able to say that they are solely correct in their beliefs and other are wrong?!!! No one knows what happens after death, us people on earth can only go on what we assume- and that will never be 100% accurate. There are things that we will never know- I believe that life after death is one of those things. People will never know what is in store for them after death until they're buried six feet under, until then speculations are just that- assumptions! I do not wish to be apart of other's people assumptions, if anything, I'd rather make my own and stick to that. Therefore, I declare that I am no longer a Christian. I do believe in a God and higher power, but not necessarily in the form a "structured" religion.

Take a Sip of This

Memorial Day weekend is a time dedicated to the lives of those who have taken part in American warfare, but this commemoration tends to get lost in translation as this holiday weekend is also know as "Black Bikers Week" in the Myrtle Beach, SC area; riders from every state along the east coast were well represented.
The streets were lit with a cascade of colors and beautiful brown skin tones. Bikers were in full force- doing stunts up and down Ocean Avenue, police troopers were patrolling and even a few cops on foot, and hundreds of tourists crowded onto the strip, but the group that took the cake for each and every single day this past weekend were the skeets- oh excuse me- the near naked women waltzing up and down the city sidewalks. I was surprised nobody was arrested for indecent exposure, because those chicks had absolutely no clothes on- a lace thong and crocheted bra should not be your ensemble for an evening on the town! What can I say though- it's their decision, let them do what they wish!
The over exposed skin, motorcycles, ruthless men with video cameras, and liquor gave way to great entertainment. Men of all ages with camera phones were trekking behind young girls barely older than myself. There was so much touching and grabbing, licking, sucking, and smooching- I was shocked no one was having sex in the street, well almost no one.
I heard screams, laughs, and pants. But of all the noises and expressions given, I heard the phrase, "Take a sip of this" or "Drink this", the most. Men urged the girls to take shots with them. Take a shot- let's kiss- we're going to my hotel. And you know most of the girls were all about it! Let's say yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nothing Is As It Seems

The days are winding down and summer vacation is shortly approaching- the weather feels pretty nice... not too hot or too cool. Flowers are blooming on trees, children run after each other underneath monkey bars on mulch covered playgrounds, couples set up picnics in parks, and amidst all the beauty that this time of the year brings, I am stuck in the mindset of partial insanity.
I'm starting to realize that I see myself in a different way than other view me and vice versa. My personal problems and victories are emphasized, while the triumphs and failures of others are minimized in my mind. I can only see as far as God will let me and within my peripheral I see that what I've faced in life isn't what others conjure it up to be- only I can determine the depth of my circumstances. I've seen the lives of others and within my observation I've gathered the understanding that what seems to be so beautiful and delicate on the surface could really be crumbling from decay on the inside. Whether it be simple perception or complicated relationships, what you see happening in the lives/ to the lives of other individuals is not at all what you had imagined it to be.

Damaged

I know I'm kind of strange to you sometimes. I don't even know who I am most of the time. I'm so much to manage, but I hope you understand it's nothing personal. I don't always say what's on my mind and sometimes I'm completely petrified by life. Living is a big cycle, consisting of three major themes: success, misfortune, and simplicity. I've noticed that these three themes have deemed themselves consistent in my life. I'm hit with each of these basic foundations, but not always in the same order.
Facing reality means that I must deal with the ups and downs that outline my everyday. It's only been recently that I've come to this conclusion. I'm beginning to fully understand how to develop my life into what I want it to be. I'm steadily learning to make my ideas and feelings concrete. It will definitely take some time though. I know not to let what has happened in the past hinder my present and future, but I can't help but feel difficult to handle... part of me feels damaged and unable to be repaired.

Pink Cookies in a Plastic Bag Getting Crushed by Buildings

He had the nerve to tell me how I live my life- I don't see him anymore and we no longer talk to eachother regularly. In my mental he no longer exists, yet he believes he knows the happenings of my life. Upon hearing this, I wanted to take down a quick shot of purple haze and laugh relentlessly in this fool's face.

I twisted into a calypso of characters- Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (good versus evil). On one hand I wanted to snatch the nose off his face and on the other I wanted to shout in triumph at the fact that I could actually get him to argue with me- I relished at the thought that I could still control part of his temper.

We argued over the idea that I began dating someone new shortly after old boy and I broke up- it was not my fault we split. He's crazy. I'm not seeing anyone currently. But yet he presses the fact that he knows all about my "rendezvous." I don't even like that word. I hate the fact that someone would even dare to consider themselves knowledgeable to the ongoings of my personal life when I haven't spoken to them in regards to any of that matter.

For a while I became high off the action of us arguing thru text. I felt a new love towards him, like fresh blood restored to the veins of a sickened individual. While we argued I began to love. With each curse of his name, I reminisced on an event that I once considered priceless- while we argued my passion for him peaked. I yearned to be his girl again. And after 30 minutes of spiteful, sexually repressed texts- we stopped. And my idea of him turned into disgust. At the way he had treated me... at the things he had said. I return to life as normal, I drop him from my thoughts. And he is no longer a love in my life, but merely a cut across the heart. I sew. And so this wound will be stitched.

Wildflower

Today I'm tired. The week has been long and my mind is already unravelling for the start of the weekend. I'm looking forward to starting my new job again- a few months ago I had worked at sears (then I left) and now I'm going back!!! I need the money to pay for common necessities and to build a financial foundation for myself. Tonight is my church's "chicken & waffles" get together (that is so country)!! The church is also having a fashion show so I'll definitely be present to see what's going on in the Christian fashion world.
I'm currently reading two books, Lucy by Jamaica Kincaid and Rock My Soul by bell hooks. I am definitely awestruck by underlying stories in each of these novels and often find myself lost in the realm of reality with each story told. It's becoming normal for me to see myself thru the "spirits" of the book's characters.
I read often and by the time I finish each selection I feel as though I've lost part of my heart amongst the pages that my vision has graced. I'm left to fill a void and at the same time I am filled with inspiration to continue to seek beauty in objects that aren't beautiful- to develop myself as a complex, ever changing young woman...a wildflower pressed between the pages of delicate books and stories.

Boombox/ Beatz & Base

I smelled my mother today. A scent uniquely hers- compassionate, light, and affirmative. I smelt familiarity in the halls of this school building. I don't currently live with my mother, so being able to reconnect with something as simple as her fragrance brought alive senses that I hadn't felt in a long time.
I was whisked back to city memories. When I smell her, I remember that city feel. Days where she, my sister, and I would take the bus downtown to spend a whole afternoon at toy stores in the mall; when we shuffled 5 blocks to the corner laundry mat where she washed faded blue jeans and we roller skated on the sidewalk; relentless winter evenings where we'd stay at home and declare our time together "girl's night." I remember scorching summer days when she'd drag us to the playground and we'd zoom down blazing hot metal slides and grasp our tiny hands around fire pitched monkey bars, but no swings- the seats were too hot for our butts to handle. I remember times when she would blast Anita Baker from her living room stereo- loud enough for the whole floor to hear. I remember love between the three of us.
From my time spent with her I gathered visuals from all the experiences we encountered as the "three amigos. " And although I forget some of the specifics from that big part of my childhood, I always hold onto the scent from those days. How our building's hallways smelled slightly of piss, stale manhood, and a stagnant future. How in the mist of these dingy surroundings, my mother carry with her the smell a queen wouldn't be worthy of- I don't know what it was, a perfume or oil, but she had a fragrance that made me feel at complete ease with her. She took with her, wherever she went, an aura that spoke to crowds "this is a big city, but me and my girls are the bigger!" She possessed complete confidence in her presence and this is what I feel most from her smell- strength...a flourishing heart in the big city.