Monday, September 15, 2014

Freedom

Every once in a while, I’ll ask a few of my friends for a topic to write about. So when I asked last night, I received a few way different ideas. Jay told me to write about Freedom. Naturally, I’m like WTF? That’s not really specific. In turn he said, “The freedom of bettering yourself. Not holding yourself back”. A light blub came on as soon as I read that message.

The thing about writing is that there’s no wrong way to say how YOU feel. When you write, they may not appreciate your honesty or opinion but it’s yours and you own that shit. How can you tell me what I’m saying isn’t important? I don’t give a damn if YOU think it isn’t because when I wrote it, it meant something to me. I may write fast but if I write about it, I’ve put a lot of thought and energy into it. I don’t write for the likes or RT’s. Shit, most of the stuff doesn’t even get RT’s. But it may be the one thing that one person who read it needed to hear.

There’s not enough time in the day or care in the world for me to want to sugar coat things. If I write it, its usually in raw form. It’s extremely rare for me to alter anything because of how it will be perceived. Take it or leave it. You love it, hate it or feel indifferently about the topic at a hand.

It took me quite some time to start the project that I’m working on. Not because I didn’t have anything to talk about but I was giving too much of a damn about what people would think. Not strangers because I never really give a fuck about what people who don’t personally know me think. People as in MY people. People I speak to daily, weekly, monthly, ever. People who know me. Or people who think they do. How can I let people take away my freedom? Why would I? I knew that what I had to say was worth way more than an opinion. I knew that since I was a child, writing was my outlet. Writing was my savior. Writing set me free from any and everything that was wrong. Yes, I’d have to still face it but writing gave me the power to say what I want, feel what I want and not have to answer anyone’s questions or deal with their complaints. Writing gave me the space I needed to sort thing out. If I didn’t have $10, Writing would still be free. Freedom.

Writing. Simply put, it’s the shit. I have so many notebooks. Old, new, plain, fancy, everything. I love the freedom of choosing which one I want to deal with that day. I can go from PC to phone to good ol pen and paper (my personal favorite). So when I write, I take it seriously. I’m always trying to get better. Always thinking of new things for ME to write about. II t doesn’t matter if the topic has been visited hundreds of times by hundreds of people, It’s MY writing that matters.

For ME, there’s nothing more satisfying than finishing a piece. Its like a sigh of relief. Whether its finishing a post, and email, or a journal entry. To me, that’s what I do it for. Yes, I have a circle of people who love to read what I write. There are others who have no idea that I write. But in the end, I know everyone will know. So whatever it is that YOU do, make sure you set yourself free and take advantage of your freedom. Make sure that when you do it, you can stand by it. Make sure you love what you’re doing.




Saturday, September 6, 2014

Brain Bang - Round 2

It was only a matter of time after you had entered my mind that you'd make the next entry. You had just the right touch to unlock the Pearly Gates. 
You knocked. You entered. You're really here. Flesh to flesh. Face to face. 
You seem colossal next to my small frame. I'm swallowed by your warm embrace.  
The level of comfort was so natural. You take your time but made your eagerness known. 
The firmness of your gentle voice. The intensity of your soft touch. 
And just like that, still waters began to roar. Waves crashed against the shore. 
Your words still guide and manipulate my mind, body and soul. Is it possible for two familiar strangers to really be this aligned?
The television plays at a medium tone. The bathroom light peaks around the corner. With phones beeping, buzzing and ringing, this concentration can't be broken. 
I'd love to see your face but at the moment you're having deep convo with my lower lips. Explicitly speaking to my inner soul. Telling and showing us all of the things you're capable of doing. All of the feelings you are capable of evoking. By the feel of things, I think you may have bilingually explained it all in full detail.
They say the tongue is a powerful weapon but you've decided to use it for good instead of evil. You use it to locate the treasure that had been longing to be found. Unlocking a liquid language that only better prepares us for what has yet to cum. 
We transition. 
Somehow, we end up becoming a human display of every one's favorite numbers. 
Seems like we're ready but not until I show you the same appreciation that you've shown me. It's only right.
It's your turn to relax. A kiss on the head is an action of endearment. Sometimes you have to ease your way into (or onto) a situation. 
It's not long before we say "Fuck this". 
We meant that in every sense of the word. Mentally and physically. 
Who would've thought that the mental and physical would be so close? 
We knew this would be explosive but this was more than sexing. This was a meeting of both our bodies and minds. 
For every stroke the body took, the mind took two. The intensity was too real. 
When the time came, so did we. There was no denying or hiding this. The evidence was obvious. 
As the electric leg spasms slow down to a slow twitch, the tunnel vision starts to widen. The surrounds begin to reappear. Sounds now audible. 
You walk away only to return with a warm washcloth. You are definitely the real MVP. 
This might be the real thing. 
And the day we should meet again, I'll have no expectations because I know whether everything or nothing should happen, the connection is better than any physical encounter. 
BUT... that doesn't mean it shouldn't happen again and again and again.