off my chest... out of my brain.. straight from my fingers

At this moment, I am so full.. so many thoughts run through my head, through my body and my pit is so tight.. my stomach that is... my chest is well alive.. i feel the chill, embodiying my to speak.. my body is unraveling it self.. within it self.. as it is itself.. i'm breaking through molds and barriers of personal constraints that which, were, indeed defining me and now i am perserving nothing because i am nothing more than my own expereinces and these experiences have worth, no matter how many times my inner demons tell me that i ain't worth shyt.. worthless.. nothing and noone is worthless we all have worth.. i am in this ball of confusion lost in what exactly is my worth.. feeling as if i'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown and yet my fingers won't stop typing.. i am so full.. so full of life.. of torment.. of dreams.. of an ordeal that has become.. that is my life.. with all its barriers and hurt and pain... in all it's magnificent struggle.. i am weak and yet strong.. and on some level i am beautiful and yet and still i feel ugly.. i guess i am human.. beautifully or not.. but i am here.. and this wisdom,, this talent... this gift.. rolls from the wings of my stage with brillance... with regality.. with doubt and worries.. and tears and pain.. and also with a smile... i am.. i am? i am? what am i? who have i become and why do i constantly ask myself the same questions.. time after time year after year.. doctor after doctor.. perhaps its offficial i am insane.. the shrink said i was ok.. that i .. that this is my method.. but why do i doubt this.. why is it hard for me to believe in anything and yet and stil i urn and i burn inside because i feel empty and alone and afraid.. and i'm.. i've learned to be defensive. so i don't get hurt and yet and still i am hurt.. i am not protected.. i am unable to protect myself because i am my own volatility... i am vunerable i am strong.. i am wicked.. i am brave.. i am so many things yet nothing.. i am searching for the guest.. kabir says this... "break ur ropes while u are alive.. do u think ghost will do it after".. why are my ropes still connected or am i simply hanging myself slowly.. so many questions.. so many answers.. so much doubt.. and self loathing.. and worth and yet no worth.. true contradiction.. where does one go for sanity.. is it fire, or trees, or wine... or beer.. or sex.. or being raped.. molested.. digested that has me fucked up.. cause i feel... i feel? i feeellll... i fucking feeeeeeeeellllll

Dancing with Demons

Yesterday, today, and perhaps tomorrow I will be doing the Electric slide with myself, with the part of me noone sees, or perhaps they see it and I'm the one who is dillusional.. I am, I have been.. I continue to wrestle with these skeletals who have earmarked my life.. I sassha around the room with my hat cocked to the side, sipping a glass of scotch as the woman with the martini looks into my sad but sexy eyes and calls me into the thrust of her desire- as I kiss her hard on the mouth she yelps, partly out of fear, partly out of desire and I can feel her becoming impregnated by my sperm, and yet this is all a dream.. because her I am on a different night, in a different hotel, surrounded by men, who are in their own right.. the owners of each other destinities, i shrink back into a corner unsure of exactly where i fit into this thing.. and i observe.. i observe their hard filled bodies tubbing against each other, the hot saliva that runs from the bottom lip.. i think their going to kiss but then they do not.. they embrace and i can see the libido of one from the poking phallis that has awaken in the darkness that has now become his heaven because now they are rocking down the house with house beats and i am glued to this corner with intensity running still down my veins across my shoulders and back and yet and still i cant find the rythmn, i can't catch the beat.. this is me on any saturday or friday or any other night when i am dancing with me.. with my own blackness.. with my own sex.. i can't catch the rtythmn and i wonder is it even inside of me....

Today's worries, tomorrow's heartaches...

Today's worries, tomorrow's heartaches, or is this ball of confusion my headaches from the past?

This morning, I woke up and when I looked in the mirror I didn't like the man who was looking back at me... this man was me.... I didn't like the way he looked back at me... I didn't like his vunerability... I really couldn't see because I didn't recogiize this man.. this person who was looking at me.. was this really me?

Today. my heart is full of worries. i'm desperately trying to figure out this thing called life.. called existance.. called.. birth, life, death, today i strolled past my blackplanet page and realized that one of my freinds was gone.... not like deleted by my own will... but got as in he killed himself a few months ago.. my breath was taking in that moment.. because again i was faced with the pain which is, which is what life.. i suppose? here my freind, another freind who i'd loved, cherished, held in my arms and wished the best for yet, maybe abused because of my own issues, my own self doubt, unable to see my own beauty and strength and worth.. and this freind this dear freind is now... where-- gone i suppose.. as I was inclined to send him a note asking him why he had done what he had done.. it hit me again there would be no reply... like my other freind.. female, causacian, sweet as new air into a baby's lungs, gone but not by rope but cancer and they say the fire next time. the fire ain't her breast, her liver, her brain, and left her well with a morphine drip and yet i'm here living with all this pain and trying exactly what to do with it, besides inflicted hurt and turmoil into others.. how does one escape this pain.. the pain of the little boy inside me who shaked in his dreams in the middle of the night.. wishing that he could get that man off his momma's ass and stop him from putting her head into the plaster... but he can't so he shakes... violence.. violently shaking the years of turmoil from his fluffed up greasy head... he has once again allowed it to grown... while shaving his beard and feeling once again afraid.. and feeling as is he is once again misunderstood.. and is trying to learn from the past, while living here in the future... but really really really contemplating the future.. what is it... how will it be.. can i ever live in ecxtasy..?? damn, i don't know.. i desire for someone- for some man.. to feel me up, to strenthen me beyond my own capabilities... i desire for a woman to birth my child, to smile at me when i walk by, to be my sister in the struggle and to not disgrace me because i lay with her brotha, love her mother, and really wish i could love her exclusively... but this heart of man is a same gender loving heart... it loves women but not in the same way as men... men make me breathe... men scare me, fantazises me, use and abuse me.. and still i love them.. i am tormented by the steps of men and yet and still i wait for a man like myself who can love me.. and protect me.. as i do him... i am a brotha.. the brotha behind a mission but a mission for what-- of what... what do i stand for... who am i... who have i become.. and who and what am i doing here.. with tears in my eyes and this fire in my soul... my chest is wood.. and my breathe ignites every being that is this man.. when he looks at me.. when i met him.. when we touch it is extastic.. and this thing ain't even sexually.. it is kinestic.. charasmatic... it is life.. it is death,..it is everything i ever wanted and more than i've ever urned.. this is my dream.. my reality. the thoughts i have for the man who hopefully will have me... who will kiss all my scars and say that i am all that he ever wanted and more.. that i am enough.. for him and that no matter what he will never forsake me.. that here in his eyes i am the moon, sun, stars, the oceans, waves, comets, nitrogen, hydrogem, atoms, both + and - and he couldn't imagine.. couldn't endure a day without seeing my face, kissing my lips, feeling my thighs against his as we rock into the night.. sweating against each others face. tasting the sweat spit that arouses our tonsil to touch and his fingers to brush softly against my eye brows as i look down afraid, embarrassed.. but not letting go of his embrace.. as i kiss his neck, yank his chain, bend down to let him know that i am all his.. as i pick him up, and look deeply into his eyes... losing all of this fear... all this precaution in the mystery which is this man... this man.. who feels like day break and nightfall all in one.. who feels like homemade apple pie and my old pajamas with the footies.. to this man... i am waiting.. for this man i am preparing.. to this man... have mercy on ur soul cause u will have ur hands full with me.. to this man i will be true.. to this man i save my love.. to this man.. i am... i am.. what? I am afraid... i am both weak and strong.. i am adam and eve meets steve meets tyrone... me and my 25 personalities are all here singing along... as off key as it may be.. to this man.. will u marry me????

Winter Vacation Suggestions

I really don't have much to blog about, but I am thinking about taking a vacation. Yes, I will finally take a full fledge vacation this year- I have over 15 vacation days to use, so why let them cut them in half, when I can be sitting on an island, with a drink in my hand, and a smile on my face. Hell, maybe I'll even get my groove back.. I mean shyt Stella did, or at least partly- and I mean in her case, wouldn't be bad unless he was straight and was using me to get to the states to marry some chick.. and as long as I could still hit it what difference does it make... But then again, I would love to fall in love (with the right person this time)..

So, bloggers, what are your recommendations for a December vacation---

I'm thinking somewhere nice and hot and with clear blue water, good drinks, and just a few brothas that I could relax, kiss, smile, cuddle, and lay up with...

This is too true!!

language is probably
Physical Touch
with a secondary love language being
Quality Time.

Complete set of results

Physical Touch:		10
Quality Time:		8
Acts of Service:		6
Words of Affirmation:		6
Receiving Gifts:		0

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

Nothing better to do

Klein Sexual Orientation Grid

I scored an average of 3.48

0

1

2

3

4

5

6

Heterosexual

Bisexual

Homosexual

Meaning

This result can also be related to the Kinsey Scale:

0 = exclusively heterosexual
1 = predominantly heterosexual, incidentally homosexual
2 = predominantly heterosexual, but morethan incidentally homosexual
3 = equally heterosexual and homosexual
4 = predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentallyheterosexual
5 = predominantly homosexual, incidentally heterosexual
6 = exclusively homosexual

Summary

The idea of this excercise is to understand exactly how dynamic a person's sexual orientation can be, as well as how fluid it can be over a person's lifespan. While a person's number of actual homo/heterosexual encounters may be easy to categorize, their actual orientation may be completely different. Simple labels like "homosexual", "heterosexual", and "bisexual" need not be the only three options available to us.

Take the quiz