check me out...so true

Your Love Style is Agape

You are a caring, kind, and selfless partner.Unsurprisingly, your love style is the most rare.You are willing to sacrfice your world for your sweetie.Except it doesn't really feel like sacrifice to you.For you, nothing feels better than giving to the one you love.

What's" Your Love Style?

drowning

I’m drowning in a sea of emotions right now. I was going to write this blog last night, but Omar rescued me from myself (thanks O). But the problem with me and going to sleep with unresolved issues is I always wake up (normally woken up by it) with the same issue on my mind. Last night I was tired, bored, upset, sad, furious and heartbroken. With the expectation of the first two emotions, there was no real present reason why I was feeling the way I was.

Let me back track a little. I Tuesday morning I woken up by my sister who decided she wanted to not only wash clothes but wanted to separate clothes in the basement (during the summer I sleep in the basement because its cold and my family has this bad/annoying habit of turning the a/c off in the middle of the night, making a bad situation worse), this was at 8:20am. Then Tuesday night I stayed at work instead of coming home because I had to be at work at 7am. Doesn’t make since to leave work at 11:30pm, get home at 12:15am and turn around and need to be up no later than 5:30am if there are beds at your job. Normally I can sleep when I’m at work, but this night I couldn’t. I was wired and couldn’t fall asleep for anything. So when I finally got home Wednesday I was ready to crash. I slept for about an hour, from 4pm-5pm, but then my room felt like it had gotten warmer. What a surprise, someone had turned off the air. So it was Wednesday, I was still a little tired and nothing to do. That explains the first two emotions.

Before I start the next part of this blog, let me state this upfront, I know these are my issues. I know that I’m harboring issues from my past and should deal with them and not bring them into new situations. I know if I have trust issues I need to deal with them. Now, please also note, there probably isn’t anything you can say that I haven’t thought of or haven’t heard already.

I texted ‘A’ to find out how his day was and what he was up to. Like I stated before, I was bored. ‘A’ stated he was talking to his best friend and on black gay chat. Even though this was normal, today it didn’t sit while with me. I didn’t know why, but ‘A’ being on that website just upset me today. That was the last text I got from him until 11pm. This was a gap of 3 hours and at least 2 texts from me in-between. With a lot of time on my hands and nothing on television my mind began to wander. I’ve been cheated on in the past that was confirmed, and 2 other relationships that signs were there. I’ve only been in one relationship where the other party was honest with me, leading me to believe that I have been cheated on more than just by that one person. So, when things like this happen I tend to believe the worst. Assume that the absence is due to someone else. Normally I take off and find someone to keep my attention for the night, do something I would regret. Last night was not really any different. I wondered if ‘A’ had gone out with someone from Black Gay Chat, was I going to be set up for a big let down soon. I went out with Omar to get my mind off things, I didn’t drink and didn’t try to meet anyone new.

As far as I know these suspiciousness have no merit. Just fabrication of my bored mind. ‘A’ hasn’t done anything to me that would lead me to believe that he would be anything but honest with me. When things like this happen I step back and try not to get upset at the other person. I know these are my issues. I’m trying to resolve these issues, but only time will heal some of these wounds. I know these are my issues and I know I have to deal with them. So I’m going to splash my face with some water and let it go.

Coming out to myself

The first step of coming out of the closest is coming to terms with ones own homosexuality. For me, a logical thinker, this process took some years and a lot of research, interviews and theories. Ok, yes, to the surprise of a lot of my friends, I’m sort of a geek. I do need things to be in black and white.

When I look back on my childhood, the signs were always there. I was into fashion, hated to be dirty for any reason, hands stayed on my hips which were propped to the side like a model posing on the runway and the fact that my double-sided poster of Janet and Michael Jackson was turned to the side with Michael on it. I was gay but at the time I thought I was just different. During this time I knew I was attracted to boys more than girls, but thought this was normal. Thought my attraction was merely childhood curiosity and it would go away. I wasn’t gay because I didn’t switch or women’s clothing.

During my last two years of elementary school I knew something was wrong. I was still looking at the other boys. I enjoyed them running up and down the basketball court, watching them dripping with sweat and battling in the post for positioning more than I enjoyed playing with them. I would look at their butts when they walked by, even set up accidental run ins that allowed me to brush up against their butts (yea I was a mess back then too). The other boys, who to my knowledge are all heterosexual, used to play around and dry hump one another. Ok, actually they would all gang hump one particular boy. Secretly, I wished one of them would pay attention to me, wished the boy everyone else was humping would get tired of being abused and want to secretly be with me. But these feelings were wrong, they weren’t “normal.”

High school came and nothing really changed for me. I was still experiencing the same feelings and still up to the same tricks. I was able to put a name to these feelings. During a sociology/psychology class I learned that I was having homosexual thoughts. I wasn’t the only one who had these feelings, there were others like me. Now the harsh reality that many people did not accept homosexuality began to hit me. Was something wrong with me because I had thoughts of being romantically linked to another male? I didn’t share my feelings with anyone else, tried to deny I had any romantic feelings for anyone. I still looked at the boys in the locker room, still enjoyed the basketball games but I knew that would be it. I knew there were other people out there that had similar feelings as me, but the only thing I knew of these people were that they were feminine and occasionally dressed in women’s clothing.

It was in college I came to terms with who I am. I met Charlotte. Charlotte was a lesbian and open about her sexuality. Charlotte was comfortable with who she was and knew a lot about homosexuality. I sat up for hours talking to Charlotte about being gay and how and when she knew she was gay. Charlotte and I became good friends. One day she asked me was I gay. I didn’t know, as much as she informed me of the gay lifestyle and I had met some of her male friends (who were gay), I still didn’t identify with being gay. So I told her the truth, I wasn’t sure. I told her about my feelings but also explained to her that I had no desire to be feminine or dress in women’s clothing. Then something happened one night. I’m sure she had nothing to do with it, because later when I told her she was genuinely shocked. A friend of mine was going through a tough time and one of his girlfriends (yes he had more than one) asked me to spend the night with him, to watch him. I wasn’t doing anything and would have ended up sleeping in my dorm room alone so I agreed. He asked if I would sit on his bed next to him until he fell asleep, no problem. Problem! I fell asleep. I woke up to something crawling up my leg. I kept my eyes closed because I wanted to see where things would go. Suddenly something warm was around my penis. I felt this warm feeling up and down, up and down. I decided to join in and placed my hand down my friend’s pants and began to go up and down on him. I ejaculated for the first time knowingly and despite this being my first time, I was old enough to know what was going on. My friend said he was just curious and we never talked about this again.

Now I was really confused, but would soon come to realize that I would enjoy the intimate contact with another male. I called another one of my friend’s over to spend the morning with me. Neither of us had early class and I really didn’t feel like being in my room alone this morning. My friend as far as I knew only liked female. I knew he had a girlfriend on and off campus and messed around with several girls on campus. When he came over he said if he was going to sleep in my room he wasn’t going to sleep alone. He jumped in the bed with me and I honestly didn’t see a problem with 2 guys sharing a twin bed. He slept with his back toward me. During the short time we shared in my bed he kept pushing back. I had morning wood (at least that’s what I told myself) and when he finally touched me he felt me. “Is that a roll of quarters or are you really happy for me to be here?” he asked. He put his hand down my pants and took my penis out. Without asking any questions he slid down and began sucking my dick. I didn’t ask any question and this “affair” continued throughout college.

After these two experiences I began to research the internet, read books and talk to people online about being gay. I read everything, positive and negative. I was beginning to realize that I was a gay male. It wasn’t until I read E. Lynn Harris’ book, Invisible Life, did I really accept who I was. I was a gay male but now I knew that that didn’t mean I had to be feminine, didn’t mean I had to give up being a MAN. I called Charlotte and for the first time I confessed, “I’m gay.” She was proud that I made this step. After doing like 2 months of research and finally coming to grips with who I am, you would think a burden was lifted and I should have felt relieved. I didn’t feel anything. I was still the same person. But I still had one question that needed to be answered.

What made me homosexual? Most of the stories I heard or read about dealt with some childhood molestation. Had I been molested at a young age and just forgotten? I tried hard to remember, asked questions about my childhood without telling my family members what I was looking for. I wasn’t molested. No one took advantage of me, there was no babysitter making me suck him off or eat her out. There was no uncle that made me sit on his lap. My father was in the picture and lived with us, so this was no cry for the attention of a male figure that I didn’t have. I always kept to myself so I doubt if I was socialized this way because I hung out with my sisters. I came to the conclusion that I was born this way. I couldn’t find a reason in my environment that would cause me to want to be intimate with a man, so I had to be born this way. I turned 19 years old and finally I was comfortable with being a gay male. I’m a man who likes the company of other men. I’m a man that dates other men. I’m a MAN.

Father's Day

Its Sunday, July 18, 2006 and this is the first father's day without my dad. My father passed away on mother's birthday March 20 this year. My father's day, even though it wasn't a complete surprise (my father had been sick for years and according to his doctors, he had months to live 4 years ago), it was a difficult time for the family. My parents had been married for almost 25 years (anniversary is July 4) and my father was my mothers first love. I still live at home so I, along with my twin sister and younger brother , still lived with our parents (you can call me a scrub if you want, but I still do for myself). So on this father's day I'm going to write a blog about father's, mostly mine but I do plan on addressing something else. I'm going to try not to go in depth in this entry because if I do it will be very long.

I broke down at my father's funeral! This is the first time I've ever broken down at a funeral and I can't believe it was his. My father and I really didn't have a great father son relationship. The last month or so of his life we rarely spoke. I mean we may say good morning and good night to one another but it wasn't uncommon for us not to even do that. I'm not sure when I began to feel like my father didn't really love but I can recall a couple of these situations.

The first problem I had was a comparison he made with his brother. My uncle is doing ok for himself now but in the past that wasn't the case. My uncle was addicted to drugs and homeless. Not exactly someone I wanted to be compared to. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, in his eyes I was just like my uncle. I was a honor roll student, didn't get in trouble and really didn't ask for much. I got all A's and one B one year on my report card, and because my sister got straight As I was lazy and didn't work hard. I would cry all night, sometimes I would even lock myself in my room, turn off anything that made light and lock myself in my closest and cry until I fell asleep. These are my childhood memories.

When I got older I realized that I just wasn't going to do anything that pleased this man. I continued to do well in school and got into the school (college) of my choice. But it wasn't good enough for him. But knowing me, some of you know that I'm going to be me. I was probably extremely odd to my father. I was a loner. I kept to myself and really didn't need human contact. I was happiest when I was alone. He wanted me to be outgoing, wanted me to want to go outside and play with the other kids. Wanted me to do something other than read, write and watch TV (I loved watching educational shows like the news and dateline when I was younger). When I chose a small college in new jersey he was unhappy. He wanted me to go to a big school like Rutgers, like my sister. When I chose a career path that wouldn't make me a millionaire but would allow me to help others, he was unhappy. We would argue about these things and our other differences until we stopped talking. I don't know about him, but this was ok for me. Whenever we tried to talk we would just end up arguing, so what was the point?

So now its Father's day 2006 and everyone wants to know how I feel. I never cared for this holiday because I really didn't have a good relationship with my dad. It was one of those times of the year that I had to pretend. Now its a release, I don't need to pretend. I can treat this like any other day. I lived with my father my whole life but he died without knowing or understanding who I was as a person.

But on Father's Day I did send a text to my older sister who has to be both mother and father to my nephew. I love my nephew but I recognize he is far from perfect, but my sister is doing the best job she can without the help of the man who laid down with her to make my nephew. So on this father's day I wish a happy Father's Day to all the women that play both mommy and daddy to the young men who will grow to one day become better father's than their dads.

Talk with Mom

Ok the moment of truth is here, I talked to my mom today. I was nervous, it was like I hadn't already had the big talk with her. Like I didn't already expose "the big secret." We were alone in my car twice and the words did not present themselves to me, the situation did not call for a serious heart to heart. So I bulked, didn't take this opporunity. But thank God for Oprah.

She was watching Oprah when I walked into her, I came in just to say hi, nothng else. Oprah was talking to a young lady that mother just found out she was gay. "ok this is my chance," I thought to myself. During the commericial I turned to my mother. "Mom, when I told you about me you seemed quiet, you didn't say much, why was that? Honestly, I thought you already knew," I stated almost out of no where. My mother turned toward me with a slight look of surprise on her face. Without changing her fcial expression she said, "I didn't know. I knew something was different and I couldn't find out what it was. I mean, you are an attractive young man and all throughout high school you didn't have a girlfriend. When I asked you about girls you seemed uninterested."

I thought back on my high school days briefly. I really wasn't interested in too much of anything in those days. I would look at the other boys, point out the ones that were cute in my head, but I went to school and came home. I had no interest in anything. And thats what I told her. I explained to her that I was confused about who I was during those days because all of knew of Homosexuals, other than they liked persons of the same sex, was that the men acted like girls and probably had a secret desire to be one. That wasn't me. Then she asked when I knew. I had answered this question from her before, but this time I gave her a more detailed answer. "I've always known I was different. I really knew I liked boys back in elementary school." This took her by surprise. She couldn't believe this. But it is/was the truth, I knew I didn't like girls.

I was happy that we were able to talk but during our talk I discovered that someone had opened their mouth and told my sister. I never told her because we are not close and I didn't think it was any of her business to know. But whatever, whats done is done. So talking wasn't that bad. I think my mother just wants me to be happy and she really seems open minded.

He Called

Ok, mom's wasn't feeling well today, her back is giving her problems, but don't worry, I have somethings to let go. Its odd, I'm in a writing mood, this might not be my last blog of the night.

Lamar called about an hour ago. A mix of emotions came over me. I was happy that my friend still cared and had not forgotten about me. I was happy that he had kept his promise and called me back. But mostly I was confused. I had decided to cross him out of my life, I no longer needed his part-time friendship. But was I too quick to judge and relinquish his friendship? I said hello and there was a moment of silence like we were mourning the death of our friendship. I kept my end of the conversation general, I mean, I've shared more emotions with all of you who read this than I did with him. I did tell him that I felt like he grew distant and I felt like we were no longer friends. He stated that he felt the same way and he realized that he was trying to avoid everything that reminded him of home (New Jersey). I can understand this to a certain degree, I understand why he ran away from Jersey, but I thought our friendship meant more.

When he started to talk about his life and the drama that was going on in his life, I became grossly uninterested. It was like a cartoon or a family sitcom, he spoke and I caught sections of the conversations. If I had to repeat the conversation, the details would be scattered and so distorted it would no longer be funny. I guess he sensed my disinterest in the conversation and my overall uneasy tone, he suggested that I call him back later when I was able to talk. I hung up and was glad that was over. As much as I wanted to pour out all my feelings, tell him exactly what I had been feeling. Explain my pain and confusion. Tell him about all the mistakes I had made. I wanted to catch up with my best friend, but I held back. He knew the true me and I didn't have to pretend or have to catch him up on the details of my life, but at this point talking to him on the phone, I felt like he was a mistaken one night stand that I mistakenly gave my number to but didn't bother to exchange names. Now I'm not sure what i'm going to do. I'll keep you posted.

Supposed to be at work

Ok I'm supposed to be at work as I type this blog, but ask me if I care. I took one of the boys to the doctor today for a routine visit, now instead of going straight back to the house, we took a detour to the library where I'm typing this.

Yesterday was a trying day for me. I'm not sure what was wrong with me, but the last place I wanted to be was work. When I got back into the company van and headed back to the house from taking 2 boys from therapy, I became very irritable and quiet. The entire half hour drive back to the house was filled with only the sounds of the radio and the car speeding down the highway like street. Once back at the house my silence really didn't change. Normally upbeat and friendly, I walked through the house like a zombie. I passed several of the residents without muttering a word. This act shocked them and prompted several to ask what was wrong with me. The residents have come to expect a "hello, how was your day," from me. But today nothing came out. I really didn't care how their day had gone and really didn't want to let them in on how I was really feeling. While I was trying to eat (everyone else had eaten before I returned) my supervisior asked me to take the boys out to the garage and clean it. I ignored her request until I was done. Did she really think I was going to move? If she did, she was dumber than her tight ghetto afro puff she was sporting. When I finally made it outside, my co-worker took the boys outside, I leaned against one of the company's vans and starred at my car. If I leave and never return I'll miss out on a full month of pay (i'm leaving my job soon and starting a new one. My first paycheck from my new job would take at least 3 weeks to get to me), if I stay I run the risk of telling one of these kids what I really thought of them and trust me that wouldn't be pretty. I elected to stay but also elected to keep my distance from everyone. I found a quiet corner where I could see almost everyone and read my book. It was during this time that I realized that I made the right choice when I decided to leave this job.

During this miserable time for me I needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood me and my struggles with my feelings, someone that could comfort me. I knew of only two people that could tell me what I needed to hear, which is not necessarily what I want to hear. Those two people are Michelle and Lamar, my best friends. Michelle was in a meeting and promised to call me back. Our friendship has gone through its moments and is a little strange now. We don't speak often but in time of need, we know we can count on the other person. Of course she didn't call back. I've come to expect that. If I really couldn't deal I would have simply called her back and I know she would have dropped everything because I needed her. But it wasn't that serious, I figured I could deal on my own.

Lamar and I are basically coming to the end of our friendship. I'm tired of fighting to keep him in my life. I love him to death and would have done almost anything for him, but the love seems one sided. Lamar and I used to talk/date/mess around/something, awhile ago and after a period of not talking (things ended badly and I needed to remove him from my life) we began to rekindle a friendship. At one point I was comfortable with our relationship (a friendship is a relationship so don't read too much into that word), I understood I was there for him for emotional support and now that I think of it, he was just there, for me. I didn't get anything out of our friendship really other than someone I could call my best friend and that was enough. During my late junior/early senior year of college I was going through somethings and surprisingly he was there for me. He became my rock and really showed me that he cared. However, it was during this same time I discovered that there was apart of my friend that I didn't know. I side that he was hiding from me. He began vagueing and walking in "balls" but due to my dislike of the more feminate guys he kept this side away from me. He didn't want me to distance myself from him because this was apart of him, but he didn't realize that my love for him was unconditional. With some bumps in the road we were able to get over this hurdle, but I began to realize that I was pulling up the rear when it came to his friends. His house brothers and "dates" came before me. I understood and still loved him the same. Then he moved to DC. Now he needed money because he was not working and still had bills. Like a parent I lectured him on the importants of budgeting and making wise decisions, but I still sent him money (a little more than I could really spare, but he was my friend) and told him it was a gift and not a loan. Calls become less frequent, which was not unusual for us, and texts stopped being replied. I was ok with all of this because we had done it before. But then he came back to jersey for his birthday. I told him I would like to do something for him for his birthday. We planned to go to Great Adventure, but one of his other friends at the last moment wanted to do something with him, so he canceled. I told him I just wanted to see him for his birthday, just to wish him a happy birthday face to face since he had spent part of my birthday weekend with me. It never happened, he found every excuse not to chill. I mean I was willing to drive 20 minutes just to see him for 2, would not have had a problem with that, but he said no. Worst than that, I found out he had been in the ny/nj area 3 times and I hadn't gotten a call or nothing. I stopped calling, texting and emailing at that point. My feelings were really hurt. I had given so much of me and gotten so little in return. When my father passed I called him and left a message to inform him. I received not a call, text, email or letter back. He said he never got the message (I called his cell phone). My other friends convinced me that maybe my cell phone dropped the call and I didn't realize it, said no one could be that cold. I'm not sure anymore. Two days ok I texted him and told him I missed him and I wanted my best friend back. After I didn't get a reply in 2 hours I called to make sure his phone was still on. It was and he picked up. I kept the conversation short because he sounded annoyed to hear my voice. We ended the call with a promise that he would call me later. 2 days later nothing. I really wished I could have talked to him yesterday, but just as I realized he didn't care about me in a romantic way over 7 years ago, I realize that our friendship has died. It hurts me to type that, and i'm fighting back feelings of sadness and grief, but he has a new life and I have to find one of my own. I loved my best friend...

Sorry for the long paragraph that seems to have no flow to it, but it was on my chest and I just needed to let that and him go. I will probably blog later, I plan on taking my mom to dinner tonight and talk to her. The only thing I hope to get out of this is an open and honest conversation with my mother. It wouldn't be terribly upsetting to me to hear her tell me that she loves me no matter what, but she disapproves and will no accept the fact that I'm homosexual. It would hurt, but at least I knew where I stood with her, and thats all i'm looking for. I like things in black and white, life has grey areas, but I try my hardest to avoid them.

Random thoughts before work

As my final days at my current job drag along, I find myself less and less interested in my work. My work, unfortunately, needs and deserves more of my attention. My work happens to be teenage boys that need guidance. I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I'm the best person to give life advice or I'm the most mature person around, but I do believe when I'm actually working, there are few that can genuinely help these young men like I can. When I started this job almost two years ago I thought I would walk in and join a team of professionals like myself. I didn't. Now instead of trying to wait for things to improve, I'm leaving. Defeated, worn and depressed, I'm leaving this field in search of something else. No clue to where my life is going to go, but I'm leaving.

The past two weeks have allowed me to find two of my previous loves. Reading and Writing. I've had the opportunity to do this blogging thing and I must admit that it has been great for me mentally. At times I write about nothing, but even that has allowed me to put my thoughts on medium and just let go. I missed this. Its strange, I didn't realize how much I missed journaling until I began doing it again. Now reading I love, but didn't have time for it or should I simply say I didn't make time. I just finished E. Lynn Harris' memoir and I have fallen in love with his writing again. The man seems to capture the pain and confusing I try so hard to hide from everyone that comes in contact with me (this includes my therapist.). I've never gone to any of his book signing or seen/heard any of his interviews in fear he wouldn't live up to the image of genius I have of him, but I know like others who have read his books, he has captured what it is to be dissatisfied with yourself. Along with Invisible Life, E. Lynn Harris' memoir should be a must read for all gay men. His book was truly powerful and touching.

Tomorrow night I plan on taking my mother to dinner and having a talk with her. I want to see how comfortable she is with my sexuality and maybe even discuss something concerning that with her. I don't think she realizes yet that she has met everyone of my exs. Like I said in a previous blog, my mom and I were like friends, but due to circumstance we grew distant. I will be sure to let everyone know how that goes. Wish me luck.

Ok I'm off to work now, don't want to be there and the urge to just walk out and never return is becoming more and more a realistic possibility to me. Enjoy your day and I'll share later.

Advice needed

Let me be honest, I just wrote another blog, probably my longest one to date, but I haven't posted it. I revealed somethings that I haven't even told my therapist. I'm not share if i'm ready to shware all of that but I know I need to deal with some of it soon. I feel like I owe you something, I haven't written a blog in like a week.

Instead of writing a blog, I would like to pose a question that I need some feedback on. I told my mother back in November that I'm gay. Surprisingly, she offered her support and love and that was the last time we talked about my sexuality and my love life. I used to feel that my mother and I were like best friends, but now I feel a void in our relationship. Should I ask her why she hasn't asked about my love life? Ask her how she really feels about my sexuality? or tell her about my past relationships and where I stand now with "A".

Ignorance is NOT Bliss

I don’t remember when I heard it first, but the saying, “Ignorance is bliss,” rings loudly in my head from time to time. “He doesn’t need to know his boy/girlfriend is cheating, she doesn’t need to know her boyfriend slept with her best friend, your mother doesn’t need to know your gay or your supervisor doesn’t need to know you are looking for a new job,” are just a few phrases that bought out the fog horn with the chant of “Ignorance is bliss.” But is it really? I pondered this question as I thought about my people/family, have we taken this phrase to the next level and distorted its true meaning?

At one point, Africans were celebrated for their advances in education, math, language, farming and architecture. Now, we are marveled by how we tear ourselves down and how we as a people celebrate our own failures. Growing up, I was picked on because I received good grades in school. It wasn’t because I was smart, it was simply because I actually applied myself. I wanted to be more than the drug dealers and car thieves I passed on the corner where they were permanently planted. Had dreams of becoming the second African-American Supreme Court Justice (this was before Mr. Clarence Thomas. I might have been one of the few African-Americans who didn’t want him to become our second Supreme Court Justice, this would crush my hopes of following directly behind my ideal Thurgood Marshall.), but this was not the dream of my people. Education was not the dream of my people, quick and easy money was. I was labeled a geek, fag (ok I know what some of you were thinking, but I’m pretty sure this had less to do with my sexual orientation than you think) and a teacher’s pet. As I grew older and more aware of my surroundings, I realized that educated African-Americans, those who spoke correct English, those who reframe from using the “N” word, were looked at as Uncle Tom’s. When did education and being an African-American become separate like oil and water? We run away from education and shun those who wish to better themselves. We celebrate the drug money that buys the new car or home. Education is not a primary focus of our people or my family, but an after thought. If we can get an education, fine, but if not, that’s ok also as long as the money is trickled in somehow.

Our acceptance of our own ignorance as the norm has filtered into our language. Putting aside our usage of the “N” word for a second, this notion of Ebonics has been weighing on me. Instead of learning correct English, we have given up and labeled our poor grasp of the language of our land. Just because we have put a label on this broken English doesn’t mean its right. We have just empowered our children with another accuse to under achieve and accept the ignorance of their community. Now we don’t require our children to learn correct English but they can settle for the comfort and neglect of Ebonics.

Now the story of the “N” word. Once they (White America) accepted the fact we were human, they put a label on us that was equally degrading to a people as calling them monkeys. This word was/is nigger. The word that means ignorant in the Webster Dictionary was used to describe my people. And now, we change one letter and claim ownership of a word that was used to belittle our forefathers. Well, in using the word niggar to greet one another and to describe our relationship with our peers, we have owned our ignorance. To further of ignorance, we can actually justify this ownership. “By using the word and not making it acceptable for others to use it, we are taking the power out of the word and empowering ourselves.” What kind of bullshit is that? I thought it was just the ignorance of an adolescent male whose mind had been filled with the self-destructive rap lyrics that his generation engulfs themselves in, but when one of my peers uttered the same phrase I realized that this was not the utterance of a child, but the stupidity of my people. Have we finally accepted the fact that we are niggers and to further prove it, we misspell the word to show we can’t spell?

Ignorance is not bliss. It is not the cool empowering thing that we should accept. Education is bliss and the key to happiness. Denouncing degradation is empowering, not misspelling words used to degrade our forefathers. As a people we need to encourage, no, demand higher education of our children, nephews, nieces, cousins and friends. The use of the “N” word should be taboo to EVERYONE. The age of basking in ignorance needs to come to an end and the age of enlightenment needs to rain upon us.

The pleasure prinicple

Raheem DeVaughn said it best, ultimate pleasure is giving pleasure. How true that is. I can and have, reached my goal without anyone touching my manhood being touched. I've been able to reach my goal just by giving pleasure to the one I was with. Oral pleasure and the sounds my partner makes to show they are enjoying me, can sometime be all I need to feel satisfied. This blog is based on a true story, yes it really happened.

After a nice hot shower you treated yourself with, I lay you down so you don’t have to move another muscle. I prop your feet on my thigh and pour lotion in my hand. Each foot, each toe will receive the individualized attention they deserve. I begin with your right foot, slowly going over the entire foot until your foot is covered with the vanilla flavored lotion I purchased just for you. I press my fingers into the top of you’re your foot, massaging the white cream into your small foot. I glide up and down each toe, starting slowly, speeding up slightly to ensure the lotion is absorbed into your deep chocolate skin. I slide my fingers in between each toe, sliding back and forth. You missed all of Family Guy because your eyes were closed while you bit your bottom lip. It is time to move to your ankles and calves. I pour the lotion directly on your body this time, which will be a common occurrence from this point on. You tense up from the cold of the lotion. I softly rub the lotion from your knees down to your ankles. I begin alternating between rubbing and pressing my fingers into your firm calves. I don’t spend a lot of time on your calf and ankles but the job is done.

It’s time for your thighs. A strong passionate rub is used to lotion this part of your body. I move slowly from your knees to your waist. I worked every inch of your thighs. Your neck loosens, your head snaps back and you release a sigh. As I move closer to your waist, I glance, ever so slightly, up against your balls and penis. You release another sigh and slide down more in your chair. I finish your left thigh and stop. For the first time I look at your handsome face. You search my eyes for a reason for my sudden stop. You are confused. My hands remain on your waist and I noticed your erect smooth penis. It stood straight up, shivering and drooling. Yes, you are enjoying yourself, so I can continue.

I rub lotion on your flat stomach. Rub upwards and claw gently downward. You clinch the couch we are laying on. I rub your arms quickly and turn you on your stomach. I straddle you and prepare to give you the best back rub I could give. I begin with a very firm professional rub. I rub your shoulders firmly, the way you like it. I move up and down, left and right, using the right amount of pressure with my palms, fingers and knuckles. You begin to grind and moan in pleasure. Now, professionalism is over.

I kiss softly on the right side of your neck. I repeat this gentle, passionate sign of affection on the middle and left side of your neck. After I gentle kiss your left side of your neck, I slide my wet tongue up behind your ear. I trace a path outside, inside and around your perfectly shaped ears. You shiver, moan and squirm as you enjoy my tongue having its way with your ears. I kissed the middle of your neck again, sliding my tongue down the spine of your back, stopping at the small of your back. I go back up toward your neck, sucking on your back, using my tongue to add to the sensation. I make one last past at your neck, using my tongue to write, “I Love You,” in script.

I kiss the small of your back. Then I slid my tongue down the center of your butt. Never once do I allow my tongue to penetrate the alley of your two cheeks. I kiss and suck on your apple shaped buttocks. You moan louder. I part your butt and indulge in your hole. I lick around your hole, slow then fast…slow then fast…slow then fast, then I settle for a speed in between. I dip my tongue inside and pull out quickly. I do this a few times until you arch your butt and your hole begins to pulsate. I glide my tongue inside, moving in a circular motion now, applying pressure after every second rotation. You begin to throw your ass on my face. I stopped to admire you and noticed the wet spot you created on the couch. The trail of liquid hanging from your tip to your self made pond on the couch turns me on even more. My hands are still firmly placed on your waist, pressing in so deep I can feel your pelvic bone. In one swift move, I flip you around onto your back. Pre-cum begins to run down your erect penis like a slow moving stream.

A soft gentle kiss greets your penis. A kiss greets every part of your penis on this raining night. Once I reached the base, I licked my way back to the top. I placed you inside my mouth. Moving up and down like I had earlier with your toes and thighs. I glide slowly up and down, contracting my mouth so it creates a tight comfortable fit for you. My tongue traces an equally seductive path while I go up and down your shaft. Your eyes are closed tighter and I’m sure I saw a tear. I stop moving up and down on your shaft and lick your balls. I lick “love” underneath your balls in my mouth and joggle them with my tongue, while I slide up and down your penis quickly with my hands. I slipped your balls out of my mouth and placed your pole back in my mouth. I begin by moving fast, applying as much suction as I could without scrapping my teeth on your skin. Then I move fast in a circular motion. I use my right hand to ensure every part of your penis is moving up and down and receiving the attention it deserves. My index finger on my left hand has found its way to your hole. I begin to move my finger in and out…in and out…in and out…faster…faster…faster. You moan, you clutch, you squirm…you moan, you clutch, you squirm…you moan, you clutch and you explode in my mouth. You shiver, but I keep you inside my mouth. It’s not time for you to go down. I pulled you slowly in and out of my mouth, teasing the tip of your dick with my tongue. You were ready to start again, and we…well, a gentleman doesn’t tell :-)

Question #1

This is probably going to be a short post seeing that I'm at work and the boys need to eat dinner real soon. I took a few of them to the library so that they can check their emails (they are trying to hook up with girls, yes they are at that horny age) and since I'm stuck next to them making sure they are not chatting with any older women, I figured I would type a few thoughts down. I've planned on doing a post filled with questions and answers, I might as well start here with a couple.

If love hurts, why do we still seek it?
I could answer this question with one simple phrase, Love is an irrational emotion! Lets really take love and life apart and show how we can't live without love. A young baby will not strive to live if it doesn't receive love and affection (this is not an opinion but a fact). As humans we need to fill love and no matter how we show it, we have to give love as well. But why? Well think about it, most of us believe in some sort of paradise after this life is over, yet we choose to stay on this earth. We choose to remain on this earth to suffer, feel pain and guilt, to feel excitement, sadness and joy. Yes we have been given the gift of free will but it is my belief that God has also cursed us with the gift of Love. Once it enters our lifes it is there to stay and it causes us unbelievable sadness, pain and grief. Yes I could focus on the joys of love, the completeness we fill when love is going well, but aren't those well documented and song about? To really know love is to try to live without it. Only when you live without the precious gift of love, do you really know what it truely is. The absence of such of an emotion leaves a person crippled and unable to perform the daily functions of life. The non-existance of love is depression. Its the place of complete gloom and neverending dread. So despite the pain and hurt love may cause us when it leaves for a moment or doesn't move the way we wish, its better than not having love in your life at all.