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Author: Subject: having a thought
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[*] posted on 4.1.2005 at 03:43 PM
having a thought


I'm not so sure where to begin...

Is it wrong for me to want to change in order to be with the person I love? When is it ok to sacrifice for love?

I know this person quite like I know myself, and I am in the process of getting to know both of us even better. Part of that means examining all the things that my formal education has taught me, things that I have read and analyzed in the past and deciding whether or not I believe those things ring true for me. Another section demands that I examine my history, the lives of my ancestors, and begin to think of my roots as an actual, living part of me - and being proud of that. The last part asks that I love myself exactly as I am, even while recognizing my faults and fairly criticizing myself. It seems like a lot of work.

I say I am getting to know us because in learning me I am learning him, and in loving me I am loving him. He wouldn't have it any other way. Part of me welcomes this, but another part of me is afraid, but who doesn't fear change? It is an intimidating thing, to have to move from a level where you're comfortable, to a level where you know nothing, where everything is new. Intimidating and painful, yet exciting and necessary. Change is necessary for growth.

I am happy to have found Cocoa Lounge because without it I believe this process would be more difficult. I see before me an entire community of Afrikans who can help nourish my famished intellect with soul food of the most fulfilling kind. I miss my best friend but I know that he will not be long gone. And I know that upon his return I will be spiritually stronger and mentally focused for what our future holds. I can't wait.
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[*] posted on 4.3.2005 at 03:48 AM
this man and I


this man and I. this man I love.

We have been through so much together and now we are just friends.

I was reading the post about *the demise of the Black man* -- where we're discussing women who make more money than men and who flaunt that in their man's face. Of course, men can't take that; they can't take being emasculated by a woman -- THEIR woman -- so they leave. Women convince themselves that they can exist without a man. And our children suffer the most.

I stand by my belief that a man who is truly a man is not intimidated by the growth, intellect, and success of his woman. It's one of the reasons I love my King so much. He encourages me to grow, to fulfill my potential, whatever that may mean for me, even if it means leaving him to do what I must. *smile* I would never leave him though, despite what he may think, but it's nice to know that, if I wanted to, if I needed to, he would still love and support me through everything.

But I need him. There is definitely a part of me that feels that its wrong for me to say that, and perhaps it is my Women's Studies background that is whispering in the corners of my psyche. I was taught that women can do as much as men, excluding certain physical limitations, those of which are balanced out by physical acts that we are able to perform that they cannot. I believe that, mentally, women have the same capabilities of logic, reason, and intellect as any man. I believe there are evil women just as there are evil men, and good women just as there are good men. I believe all people should be respected for who they are and for the contribution they make to the world. I believe that we all deserve to be treated equally and fairly.

But I need him, because it just isn't the same to sleep alone, surrounded by cold sheets and an empty heart. I need him because my successes aren't as sweet if I dont have him to share them with. I need him because he motivates me, he makes me want to be and be better. I need him because there's something in my spirit that calls out to him, as if we've known each other all along, as if I've needed him all along.

But that isnt to say that I believe that he should hold dominion over me, or have power over me, or that he and I are not equals. For I believe that he needs me just as I need him. For isn't it true that behind every strong man there is a strong woman? Isn't it true that every King needs a Queen? Doesn't his spirit reach out to mine as well?

And yet here we are, friends. As though I never told him I loved him and he never responded in kind. Why are we doing this? It certainly isn't because I make too much money... lolz... perhaps I inadvertently made him believe that, for all the love that my heart pours out for him daily, that I could do just fine without him? That I didn't need him? That he was less than a man?

If my heart keeps pouring out love, it will be drained soon. I had hoped he would be there, soaking up every drop and replenishing me with the nectar of his soul. But I never told him that. Was I too proud?
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[*] posted on 4.4.2005 at 02:51 AM
one track mind


People in this forum will begin to believe that I have a one track mind. That everything I think, in some way, shape, or form, takes me back to that man.

Well, why shouldn't it? I'm in love.

It's amazing watching my goddaughter grow up. She's three and a half now, and I was there from the date of conception until now, and I am simply amazed at her progress. My angel calls me Godmommy, and I call her my Munchkin. She talks about everything, listens to all kinds of music, reads so well. She loves to sing, she dances at restaurants and she is so friendly - me and her mom have to put a stop to that, because you can't trust everyone - but she is such a joy in my life.

This is completely off the topic from where I started but I think somehow I'll find a way to make this all make sense. Ok. In some respects I am jealous of my best friend for having a child before me, and in some respects I am relieved to not have that responsibility. For no matter how much my Munchkin lights up my life, feeding and clothing her, always being there, watching her and playing with her, providing health care, reading to her and helping her learn her ABC's and 123's, teaching her the difference between right and wrong, all that is hard work. A huge responsibility that I am happy not to have. I mean, I share in that responsibility, but that is partially my choice.

Or is it my choice? I mean, there was a point in time when Afrikans believed in community, and we didn't let a child into this world who was not loved and taken care of by one and all. So is it really my choice that I don't just leave my best friend to take care of her child all by herself? Or do I have a duty to my heritage and my ancestors to protect and love this child as my own?

Part of me thinks the latter is true, and if that's the case then I have much more responsibility than just that which comes from having a child. I have the responsibility to resurrect the legacy with full force that they left behind, and to restore the Afrikan sense of Brotherhood and community so that we may rise as a people. Of course I share that responsibility with many others, millions of other people, but mostly I have to do it for myself, for my future and for my children.

And no matter how I flip this around in my head I can't make this issue be about him. Except in the sense that he will be there, working beside me, as a partner, friend, and lover. But somehow this isnt about him. It's about me, growing as a person, fulfilling a duty, a promise that was made to a Higher Power, and with or without him it must be done.

But I would much rather do it with him than without him.
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[*] posted on 4.5.2005 at 03:45 PM
bad girl, bad girl, whatcha gonna do??


I haven't been to the gym in over a year. I have been a bad, bad girl.

I don't work out because I want to lose weight, mind you. Somehow, no matter how much I exercise, I never really lose weight. I slim down, but I'm still just as heavy. When I stop working out, I thicken up... and I'm still the same weight. It's pretty... weird. I've been something like 180 lbs since high school, but believe you me, I do not look like I did in high school.

And yes, there is a female who is willing to admit her weight on the Internet.

The point is that working out for me is a way to keep healthy. The hue-man body is not meant to sit behind a desk for hours on end every day. My ancestors toiled every day in the fields, even when they weren't slaves. Afrika was a continent grounded in agricultural trade - mining, farming, the raising of animals, etc. I come from a people who worked, physically, every day to provide for their families. So I want to exercise more often to increase my bodily energy, to avoid diabetes and arthritis, to sleep better and be mentally motivated, increase positive energy, etc.

But of course everyone takes my inquiry into finding a good gym and workout schedule to mean that I'm unhappy with my body. Those who knew me way back when ask me if perhaps Im still harboring old issues. My new friends think I'm succumbing to these ridiculous EuroWestern notions of feminized beauty. No one believes that I could just want to be healthy.

Why have we transformed ourselves into a culture that is hell-bent on keeping ourselves sick? We do everything in our power to make ourselves ill: eating badly prepared fried foods, not eating enough fruits and vegetables, interaction on rarely cleaned trains and buses, less exercise and poor sleep habits, caffeine through soda and coffee, pasteurized milk products, hormones in plastic and preservatives in bread...

Then we wonder why modern science can't even eliminate the common cold.

One of the most important things planned for my future is to be the mother of a few little Afrikan boys, and I am not going to carry children in a sickly womb. Perhaps this isnt the reason why I should be concerned about my health, but I am starting to believe that if more people thought about that before they had children, then perhaps things would be much different for the mental and physical health of our offspring.

What's more, if I live a lifestyle of health foods and regular exercise, I'm bound to include that into the lives of my children and, in turn, they will pass that down to the next generation, ensuring that my descendants will remember more about their childhoods than Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Saved By The Bell.

So yes, I have got to get off the ball and start riding my bike, going hiking, taking long walks and runs, horseback riding, weight lifting, taking the stairs, anything - so that I can feel better and, consequently, look better. When I was eating better and exercising regularly, my skin was clearer, I was happier, sleeping better, and I was motivated and ready for every day. I'm too young to feel tired all the time.

And trust me, I know I sound like a damn public service announcement.

"It doesnt matter how you do it. Just get out and go... Verb. Its what you do."
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[*] posted on 4.7.2005 at 02:38 PM
lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, queer, questioning, polyamorous, intersexed, ally


These labels.

The LGBT(QQPIA) community just keeps finding a way to add more damn letters onto their already long acronym. Every time I turn around there's another letter, another way in which we should divide ourselves, identify ourselves as different from one another.

Aren't we all the same: deviant?

Deviant has such a negative connotation, but its root is simply in defiance, as in, to stand against, or simply, to take a stand.

So I repeat: aren't we all deviant?

I certainly have no problem considering myself a deviant, sexually or otherwise. Today, on Cocoa Lounge, I have identified as queer, bisexual, and gay, all while writing about how much I love that man.

Sigh. That man.

Losing focus... ok, I'm back.

I'm sure it confounds people, the way I choose to identify when I choose to identify myself. I seem to just reach into the bowl of names and pull one out, and whatever it says is what I am, for now. For whatever reason that I choose to keep picking between this and that, up and down, left and right, as though everything can be so neatly squared away into these tightly packed compartments.

But do these labels really say anything about who I am?

No. Not even defining myself as Black tells you anything about me, except that my skin is sunkissed and warm, and that my hair is thick and kinky - kinky in that sexxy, fierce, Black Panther kinda way. So now you know something about me, physically, but what do you really know about me??

I am so many things, and I know that this is what we, as Black people, and we, as Gay people, have been fighting for - the recognition as more than just a label. When I step into the room and say *I'm a lesbian* I dont want people to expect me to be butch, scraggly, dirty and unkept with a mullet and highwaters. Just like when I say *I'm Black* I dont want people to expect me to speak ebonics, wear a weave and look like a hoochie. I am much more than just those words, just those labels.

I am a full-fledged human being.

People think its wrong for gays to say that their roots are in the Civil Rights Movement. I say its a tribute and honor. MLK Jr. was fighting for all people to be respected and treated like human beings and not like animals. I think he would be proud that these homos were inspired by his teachings. I think he would stand with them.

I am only speculating, of course. I expect everyone to read this and curse my bisexual Black name. That's cool. Remember, I enjoy being defiant - I deviate from the norm. I dont like to fit the stereotypes and I dont want to be placed in a box.

These damn boxes are what have separated us and has us fighting amongst ourselves, against ourselves, for generations. Christians against Jews against Muslims. Blacks against Hispanics against Asians. Poor against Rich, Dark against Light, Good against Evil, White against Black, Gay against Straight.

I want to think outside of the box. Hell, I want to LIVE outside of it.

I want to erase the borders.
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[*] posted on 4.9.2005 at 02:47 AM
sexual appointments


I got stood up last night.

All he had to do was call me and let me know that he was going out of town -- out of state -- and that he wouldnt be home in time to hang out with me. Instead, he just let me believe that I would hear from him last night, and I fell asleep at 2 a.m. wondering what had happened and angry that I took Friday off from work so I could spend the morning with him.

Now, I know today is his birthday -- his special day -- so I am trying not to be inconsiderate and demand his time. I know his friends, the ones who plan things for him without asking, the ones who jump up spontaneously and go on road trips with him in tow. I know he's like that, so really, why would I even expect him to keep a date that we'd set days in advanced?

Today he calls me to tell me he should have called, he was in MD at a poetry slam and he got back really late -- and apparently, had a damn good time. I was glad; he deserves to have a good time in celebration of his 25 years of life, and I know the worse thing you could do to someone you love is to try to put a leash on them. I would never want to do that. If he devoted himself to me in that kind of way, I probably wouldn't even want him anymore.

The thing is, I love this man, and I am trying so hard, maybe too hard, to be understanding, appreciative, trusting. I dont want him to feel like his freedom is threatened, or like I'm jealous and possessive, which really just means I'm insecure.

Today I did a good job of that too, and I really sounded comfortable with the fact that he stood me up last night.

Actually, I WAS comfortable with it -- until he started discussing tonight's party. Turns out, some people I don't know were throwing him a birthday party that I wasnt invited to, not to mention the recent purchase of a sex toy.

So I became uncomfortable, and when he asks me to have sex with him before he leaves for the party, I tell him no. He throws back at me that a woman is supposed to keep her man satisfied, and that I'm sending him to this party like I WANT him to hook up with some other chick.

Now I'm REALLY uncomfortable.

But I'm not about to be pressured into having sex with him. I dont feel comfortable doing it and I'm not going to. Simple as that.

*So how do you know I'm not going to bring another girl home?* he asks.

I trust you and I dont believe you would.

*What do you believe?*

Silence.

I believe that I've been in love with you for eight years. I believe that you are the best friend I have ever had. I believe that we are meant to be together in some spiritually profound way. I believe that even if you f*cked some other chick that it wouldnt mean nothing compared to what making love to me means. I believe that you are too old to be running around with these birds. I believe you don't even want them birds. I believe if you did, you wouldnt be wasting your time with me. I believe I'm better than that.

I believe you love me just as much as I love you. I believe that scares you and that's why you play so many head games with me. I believe you aren't ready for where this thing is going so you keep trying to push me away. I believe you dont really want to see me leave.

I believe that we need each other.

I didnt tell him that -- maybe I should have. Instead I just looked away until he stood and we left. He went his way and I went mine, and perhaps tonight he will hook up with some girl while I'm sitting at home, trying to put all my faith and trust into him. Perhaps the fact that I let him get to me means that I still have some issues of my own to deal with. Maybe I'm wrong about us and we'll break up and just be friends. For real this time.

But I'm not wrong. I have something with him that no chick he met at some party could ever touch. She would never have that privilege. I'm not giving up that easy, and I'm not letting that get to me. So go ahead, go to your party, have a good time, flirt with the women, get numbers, do what you gotta do.

I'll be here when you get home.
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[*] posted on 4.11.2005 at 10:00 AM
final sexcapade


Today is supposed to mark the last and final occasion that my best friend and I have sex.

I'm not really happy about this final sexcapade. In fact, I tried delaying it as long as possible, with the thought that perhaps if it never came it just wouldn't be real. I've spent all night thinking to myself that perhaps it wasn't real, that maybe we're being silly by calling it that. But I know its real. We discussed this and decided that it was the best move to make.

We are going to remove sex from our relationship in order to salvage the remains of our incredibly intense friendship.

The fact of the matter is, I have never had a friend like him. He has always had my best interests in mind and has been there for me beyond a shadow of a doubt through everything. I would never hide anything from him and I know I can trust him with my life. He makes me laugh, and we can have conversations ranging from Marxist theory to the Dave Chappelle Show. If I was to get married, he would be a model of the type of husband/wife I would want.

So then why in God's name am I trying to salvage our friendship by throwing away our relationship? Isn't that ridiculous?

Why, yes it is, I've been telling myself all night and all morning. It's absolutely ridiculous. Am I supposed to pretend that these feelings don't exist? Am I supposed to ignore the attraction that we have to each other, mentally, physically, spiritually?

Well, yes.

The idea was that if we kept going in the direction we were going that we could lose each other, and rather than lose each other completely we decided to settle for something a little less.

Isnt that an even stupider concept?

Why should I settle to be his friend when I know deep down inside I want to be his wife? I'm sitting here trying to convince myself that I'm going to be ok with just being cool with him and keeping things casual. But I remember the first four years of our friendship when I was sweating him like crazy and he was dating all these little hoochies and I wanted to sing from the rooftops that I could love him better than she can, a la Mary J. Blige and Lil' Kim. Now I'm trying to go back to that, to keeping all my feelings inside until the right time.

Well that doesn't sound healthy. But neither does pushing him into a relationship that neither of us are ready for just because I know that's what I want. I know what I want from him, but I know that I dont want it right now. Right now I really just want to be loved by him, more than the *you're my homie* kind of way.

So I guess the lesson of the day for me is to stop trying to control everything and to just let things be the way they are. Let things happen the way they are meant to happen. If we naturally grow apart, then we'll both be ok with that feeling. It wont cause any dis-ease in our spirits or hearts, because it just happened. Doing it this way, both of us are suffering. Neither of us are happy because neither of us want to separate our love from our friendship.

Yet we agreed to this.

Let's not make this our final sexcapade... let's just let whatever's going to be, be... I don't want to control anything. I want to be vulnerable to my destiny. I want to be enamoured with futility. I want to be taken by surprised and forced into submission.

I want to be. I want to be with you.
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[*] posted on 4.13.2005 at 10:10 AM
letter of my dreams


Last night I had a really strange dream. I woke up this morning trying to remember it and failed. All I could see was my best friend's face and a letter. The letter of my dreams.

On the first page of the letter, my best friend had written to me everything he has ever wanted to tell me and never could. I remember the feeling that I had while reading it, of being surprised, overwhelmed, and seeing the vulnerability on his face. But I can't remember what it said. And I don't know if what he had to say was good or bad.

It just kinda was.

On the second page, there was nothing but doodles all over, little pictures he had scribbled and drawings of nothing in random places between the lines on this college ruled notebook page. In between the pictures he had written *I Love You* several times.

I know that this dream was fabricated in my subconscious, but I dont know who fabricated it in my subconscious. It's easy enough to dismiss it as a means of making myself feel better after being stood up the second time in a row. But the anger in me hasn't subsided, I dont feel calmer, and I dont feel like I made this up.

Most people believe that dreams are just repressed desires finding an outlet through this imaginatory state. I think it's much more than that. I'm not so sure I can describe it without sounding like I need to be committed, however. But there is something intensely spiritual about dreaming, about having a vision before you and interpreting its meaning in your life. That, to me, is more than just a repressed desire.

Isn't sleep the cousin of death?

At this point, I dont even care if the message was good or bad -- I just want to know what it is and how it manifested. Most importantly, I want to know what it means for me and who was trying to tell me something.

Perhaps I am analyzing it way too much, and one day I'm sure it will all make sense. But will I even remember then that I had been warned? How long before I forget the letter of my dreams?
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[*] posted on 4.15.2005 at 03:19 PM
my feel good song


I finally won my first argument on Wednesday -- and then wrote the feel good song.

I defended myself strongly and accurately. I used reason and truth, even while I allowed myself to be emotive. I didn't back down and I didn't invalidate my feelings or opinion. In other words, I demonstrated newfound strength. I was so proud of myself.

I am proud of myself.

I have such a bad habit of backing down when I'm questioned because I think that if something seems questionable, then perhaps I'm wrong. I'm so overly emotional sometimes that I tell myself that I must not be thinking clearly and that I need to sit down and analyze the situation, rationally. Sometimes later I say to myself, *You know, you really did make a lot of sense* but it's too late, and I dont like to rehash problems that have already been laid to rest.

But if you don't come to a satisfactory conclusion for both parties, the problem is bound to resurface.

One thing that I'm coming to learn is that I'm not the only insecure one in this relationship -- my best friend has issues of his own that he needs to deal with. But he has been so busy placing all the fault in me that it magnified the extent of my imperfections to a degree much larger than life. And I had let him.

Unfortunately, his methods have caused me some pain, but I know why he pointed out all of my faults, problems and issues, and I love him for it. Deep down he really wants to see me be better and live better. He knows that I am capable of perfection and he sees the Goddess in me.

Emotionally I don't want to hurt him or bruise his ego or tear him down, but logically I can see why he might need it. I really want to see him be better and live better. I know that he is capable of perfection and I see the God in him.

So I defended myself, because there is no way I could help him if I couldn't help myself. He asked me what was I dedicated to and I said *You* and although that surprised him that was really my way of saying *Me*. For if he needs me to compliment him, support and encourage him, fight for and with him, then he needs me to be on top of my game.

As a reward for finally beginning to unleash myself, I wrote another song for my new *album* -- the first song in three weeks that I've written. So just so you know that I didn't lose focus from the topic of this post, I intended to share the song -- and here it is.



It feels good to wake up every morning
It feels good to breathe the air
It feels good to watch the sunlight dawning
Feels even better when youíre there
It feels good to hear the music playing
It feels good to lay a track down
Through my song, my love for you Iím showing
Feels even better when youíre around

Cause no matter what I do
Itís always better with you, with you
To share my dreams
To laugh, to cry through everything

It feels good to see the rainstorm has passed
To feel the wind blow through my hair
It feels good to run barefoot in the grass
Feels even better when youíre there
It feels good to know Iím loved by family
To know theyíll always be around
It feels good to love the reflection of me
Feels even better when youíre around

Cause no matter what I do
Itís always better with you, with you
To share my dreams
To laugh, to cry through everything

I do love you
I doÖ
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[*] posted on 4.18.2005 at 09:33 AM
a few days later


My best friend came home this weekend.

For the record, I have more than one best friend. Besides my older sister, I also have the guy who you are all acquainted with, and a white lesbian female that I graduated from college with and I consider to be one of my best friends.

She has a job organizing hospital workers with the Service Employees International Union, and currently they've stationed her in Iowa City to head one of the largest organizing campaigns of the region. Previous to that, she was in Las Vegas, and before that Chicago. I havent seen this girl in weeks.

She comes home on Saturday, unbeknownst to me, and calls me to tell me she's heading up to my house to hang out. Shortly after I finish getting ready, she calls to tell me she's not coming, and asks if I can get a ride up to her house. My brother says he'll go with me, to hang out, play poker at her house, and I call her back to let her know I'm on my way, and she says never mind, I made other plans already.

Somehow, I'm starting to feel this friendship fall apart. Or, perhaps, I havent been paying attention and it's already gone. But somewhere along the line, the connection she and I had snapped, and we arent on the same road anymore. Or, perhaps, we are on the same road, but we just can't travel together.

It sucks because in all the research I've been doing lately, and all the reading I've engaged in, I havent heard one author claim that Afrikans cannot be friendly towards whites. I've seen research prove that we cannot trust them to head our institutions, or allow them to run our cities and schools. I've seen examples where Afrikans were mislead by whites, taken advantage of, and mis-educated by. But I've also heard every author say that those whites who truly do identify with our cause should and can be a part of our movement.

But more and more lately I've been feeling like she and I just can't be friends. I've tried to think of every reason why she isnt like some ordinary, red-blooded American white girl. The fact that she's the daughter of immigrants and not the daughter of slaveholders. The fact that she's gay and therefore has experienced discrimination -- although not on a level that even compares to my experiences. The fact that she acknowledges the benefits she's allowed because of her lighter skin. The fact that she works to uplift the condition of those who are disadvantaged by a capitalist system.

Maybe we just can't be friends because she's just not a good friend.

If that's the case, then why do I feel like this is not just about what happened on Saturday? Why do I feel guilty for even being her friend, and wanting to find justification? Why do I feel like I'm betraying myself or my people by calling her a friend?

Maybe I am just so tired of trying to convince people that its ok for her and I to be friends. Maybe I'm just tired of convincing myself. When I first started college, I was determined not to be friends with any of them, and as time went on, I found my circles included them more, out of necessity, similar majors and interests. But college is over, and I'm now in the real world. I just don't know if there's any place for us to be friends in this world.
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[*] posted on 4.19.2005 at 02:35 PM
laxatives


My stomach hurts.

Oddly enough, it began hurting around the halfway mark during my walk to the train station this morning. I kept pushing, thinking it was just hunger. At the station, I kept rubbing my midsection, thinking that I overworked myself by walking so fast and that the pains would calm down shortly.

Yet, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, I find myself in the same predicament of the morning. My stomach hurts, and it's all because I was in such a rush to cleanse my body.

Yes, that's right. I didn't want to walk around literally full of sh!t. I won't go into details, but being backed up just isnt that great of a feeling. I felt sluggish and moody. I felt annoyed and depressed. I felt constipated.

So I took a laxative. This isnt the first time and probably not the last either. The first couple of times were during periods of fasting. I dont remember how my stomach fared against those pills, because I was too busy trying to convince myself that I wasn't really hungry. Believing that this would simply give me quick relief I went for it and now I'm typing this curled over onto the top of my desk in writhing agony.

Why was I in such a rush? I bet if I had waited, everything would have happened naturally, the way it was meant to happen. But I had to take things into my own hands and control the outcome. I couldn't just wait.

For every action, there is a reaction.

I'm not just telling you about my bathroom battles just for the hell of it. This is all tied into a larger issue which I am working to learn right now: To Just Let Things Be.

I said I learned my lesson and I obviously didn't, and the proof manifested itself, quite literally and somewhat painfully. I have got to learn to stop trying to make all the decisions. I have to just be ok with knowing that Karma is real and that I am going to get what I deserve and what I'm entitled to. I have to trust myself to always put out my best and, in return, I will always get back the best.

Besides, being the best shouldnt be so hard. I'm already so... fantabulous. :yes:
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[*] posted on 4.25.2005 at 11:07 PM
doubting


The littlest things have the tendency to just throw me right off my game.

I thought I was in a position where I was comfortable and assured about my feelings and my relationship with my best friend -- the male one. I thought I felt secure, until someone began questioning them, and even before knowing this person's motives, or thoughts, or feelings about it, I immediately took that to mean that perhaps I was wrong.

Something's not right there. How is it that I can be so sure of myself around everyone else, but a perfect stranger can ask me something that completely knocks me off course? How is it that I can so easily begin to doubt myself?

Obviously because I was never secure in myself in the first place. But if I'm still harboring insecurities, then it stands to reason that I can't really be sure how I feel about him, and I can't really be sure how he feels about me.

I dont want to think this way. I want to just believe that he loves me. I want to just know that I love him because that's the way it is and that's the way it's always been.

But I dont just believe it, just like I still have to remind myself how beautiful I am, just like I have to remind myself to stand straight and tall and look the world in the eye. Just like I have to tell myself to stick up for myself and remind myself of all my amazing qualities. If I was truly convinced of any of these things -- if they were strong convictions in my soul -- then I wouldnt give any of it a second thought.

How could I still be battling problems from high school? I thought I would be over these ridiculous issues of self-esteem and in some respects I can see that I am but in so many others I know that I'm not and my rambling is leading me to see that I am unsure about myself.

I never expected to fix any of this overnight but one thing I did expect was to never feel the need to question my love for my best friend and yet here I am, questioning it, wondering if maybe I don't really love him.

He used to insist that I was just infatuated. That I had a puppy love crush on him that would go away as soon as someone better came along. That I was expressing repressed feelings for someone else onto him and that I do not love him and never have. I knew he was being serious but I always said he was being ridiculous. But when someone else asked me to explain how it is I know so confidently how I feel about him, I found myself wondering how.

Now I'm not so sure, and I'm scared. I'm losing the one thing I've had to be sure of for the last eight years of my life. How can I be sure of anything anymore? What can I believe in?
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[*] posted on 5.2.2005 at 09:56 AM
Dear Best Friend,


I have so much to tell you, so much to say.

My older sister is in the hospital, sick from gallbladder disease. She also found out she's pregnant. Personally, I dont think she should have the baby, but she knows that I'm going to support her no matter what decision she makes.

I've been trying not to let her illness and discovery affect me but I know it is. I know that I have no reason to be envious of her, but in some respects I am. I know that I cannot rationalize my selfishness nor my insensitivities in this matter. Regardless of how difficult things have been for her, she always seems to come out on top of everything, whereas my successes are bittersweet, because I never feel like I had as many obstacles to achieve them. Perhaps I should stop trying to compare her situation and her life to mine, but I always feel so shadowed in this relationship. In fact, I always feel so shadowed in all of my relationships.

I'm going to visit my father next month, and I dont know how I feel about that yet. I dont want to spend four days with him and his new wife and their *daughter*. The idea of pretending to like her or accept her as a part of my family is not appealing to me. I'm not much of a pretender, never have been, thanks to my mother. My emotions read clearly on my face. I called him a few weeks ago, upset and wanting to talk, and he quickly brushed me off since it was late at night. It's for his birthday and I know he will be glad to see me, but I dont know how much I care to see him. But I probably do need to see him, and I guess that's why I'm going.

My mother has a new love interest, who is ten years younger than she and currently still married. He is getting a divorce, although presumably not to be with her, and he has two young sons. I love my mother, but this woman jumps everytime he calls. I needed to discuss my sister's condition with her on the phone and she hung up because he was on the other line. There's a part of me that has a big issue with this. My sister and I, as well as the rest of my siblings, are all old enough to take care of ourselves, which is hardly the point. The point is, who would do that? Who would honestly skip out on their children to be with some new boy or girlfriend? This opens some old wounds for me because when we were in high school, she was dating the ROTC teacher, and she would go out with him on Friday nights and return early on Sunday mornings, leaving me, a 17 year old, at home with three teenagers, respectively 16, 15, and 12. Not that I feel neglected by my mother or anything, just that I feel like her priorities are immature and incorrect, and this is simply one aspect of her life where that truth has manifested itself.

My dear best friend, my mind is being clouded with doubt and fears. Doubting myself and the fame that I know is steadily approaching. Doubting my talent and my ability to stand up and be tested in the public arean. Doubting myself, overall, doubting what my conscious is telling me, doubting what I'm feeling, doubting what I want and who I am. Doubting you, doubting our friendship and fearing the worst. You always called me a pessimist and you would be right. You said that fear is indicative of change and the more I become consumed by my doubts the more I know that I must prepare myself for what is coming. I am so afraid and the more afraid I become, the more I want to just run from everything that I've ever been sure of, everything that I've ever believed in, everything that seems so less than sure now, so slippery now.

I want to be told that all will be well. I want to be held and kissed and comforted. I want to be wrapped in safety and security and draped in reality. I want to hear that I can do it, that I just have to believe in myself, that I need to approach my fears head-on so I can conquer them and continue to grow. But I know that the only way I will feel and hear these things is if I comfort myself. Believing in myself means believing myself. I know that there is nothing ahead of me that my history has not prepared me for. I am ready to accept all challenges.

With love,
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[*] posted on 5.2.2005 at 04:26 PM
annoyed


I am so frustrated.

I've been at my current job for six months. Within the first month, I was working eleven hour days alongside all the veterans, trying to prepare our national book for its closing deadline. I got pushed and rushed into learning a lot of different things, and skimmed over others way too quickly for the sake of getting the job done.

A few weeks after that, the entire system gets modified. Now, everything that I rushed to learn had to be forgotten, to make room for new information. Of course there are going to be mistakes.

I made a mistake two weeks ago, and admitted it, fixed it, and apologized for it. The problem is, the other person who contributed to the mistake -- the sales rep -- of course keeps putting all the blame on me. The program doesnt work?? Blame me. The information didn't scan to the web correctly?? Blame me. The company changed its website without telling us and we still have the wrong links in our database?? Blame me.

Its frustrating because I dont like being yelled at. Not only did she not give me a chance to correct the mistake, but she notified all my supervisors without even finding out why the mistake had been made -- which could have been easily explained as a mechanical failure. I am so hard on myself that when I'm being criticized, I never look at it as something I did that was wrong, but as an extension of myself that is wrong. How could I make a mistake like that?? Why didn't I see it? What's wrong with me?

Now, of course, everything I do has to be checked and double checked because I can't let any minor mistake slip through the cracks from now until I leave here. It's just annoying, you know, to be berated and put down for one stinking mistake.

I'm not the type of person who can take such judgment. I try so hard not to dish it because I know I can't take it and it bothers me that I'm the brunt of all this anger and criticism and blame. Not that I shouldnt be blamed for the mistakes that I make, but what good does it do to yell at someone and make them feel bad for messing up?

I do want to be better, I always feel like I'm trying to be better and do better but my hard work is never noticed, hardly ever acknowledged, and my little slipups are always magnified to a larger-than-life degree. I always come out feeling so bad about myself, feeling like maybe I just cant be better than I already am, wondering if maybe this is as good as it gets.

My god, I've had a horrible day. I just need love. Lots of it.
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[*] posted on 5.9.2005 at 01:31 PM
heartless


People must really be under the impression that I am a heartless b!tch.

Not that I havent attempted to portray myself as such, but now that I'm older, I recognize the fault of my transgressions and are fully capable and willing to admit my wrongs.

I have a bad habit of cheating. I am so very good at it that I have never once been caught. I have cheated in every single relationship that I have ever entered, which means I have cheated a lot. Its not necessarily something that I'm proud of, but definitely something that I'm good at. I expect to be cheated on a lot in the future, as Karma takes its course.

Since I've never been caught, the only way an ex would know if I cheated or not would be to hear it from my lips. Some have asked and I've always been honest, usually leading to a breakup or at least a very bad argument. Others don't know or will never know, since I didnt care enough to tell them or cared too much to hurt them. And then there's Tanya.

Tanya broke up with me after I spent two months of my life in a foreign country just thinking about her and wishing that I could be with her. I made a real effort to be committed to her and to make our relationship work despite the long distances between us. But it wasnt enough, and eventually she called it quits. Shortly after, she started dating someone else, which led me to believe that she had that in mind when she dumped me in the first place. Out of anger, I told her I didnt care, since I had been cheating on her in the first place.

She calls me yesterday, after almost two years of quiet, to try to remember why it is that we stopped speaking. I reminded her, saying that I know I was wrong and I said what I said because I was mad. I had spent so much time and energy just writing to her and calling her and e-mailing her while I was gone so that she knew for sure that I was serious about us -- and she repaid me by breaking up with me. I told her that I said what I said because I was hurt, that she had hurt me.

She responds by laughing, telling me she doesnt care, she never cared, and why did she call me at all? Says, *Whatever S, I dont even know why I wasted my time.*

I dont blame her for being mad at me. I would be mad at me too. I deserve to have her and a whole bunch of other people angry with me. But just hearing her say that revisited some old wounds for me -- wounds that I tried to make her believe didnt exist.

How many other times did I pretend to not be upset when I really was? How much deeply buried hurt am I carrying under these pounds of baggage and bad disguises? How much longer can I afford to put up a front? Who am I fooling?

I'm glad she called because I can finally finish that part of my life. But I realize now why I didnt finish it then -- because it hurt. They say *No Pain, No Gain* and if that's true, then I expect a lot of gain in my future. Because I know I must have a lot of pain to work through.
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