This Little Piggy Went to Market . . . This Little Piggy Stayed Home.

* Yes, these are really my air-conditioned socks . . .

The photo above represents where I’m at in life:
Sparklin’ on the inside & full of razzle-dazzle
Feelin’ all hot-pink & sassy
I’se ready to shine for myself & the world
yet
I’m still shrouded in the everyday, charcol gray,
humdrum of my so-called life.

Well, at least I’ve got a few sparkly toes hangin’ out . . .

My momma said “STOP bitching and start thinking more globally about your talents. You know you got it - MAKE IT HAPPEN!!!!! “

Yes Ma, I know, I know!
I’m tired of talkin’ too.
I’m ready for some action. . .

It’s just that sometimes it feels like I’m carving my path to success with a plastic butter knife.
We all get the same 24 hours.
I really need to evaluate how I’m managing mine.
I really want some new socks, damnit!

2006 Is Going to Be Awesome: I’se Can Smell The Freshness

January 1st, 2006 - I took out the trash . I will no longer withstand the funky stench of soured friendships, rotten lovers and moldy “beef” ; peppered with folks personal issues and hidden agendas. There will be none of that in 2006. I refuse to get caught up in anyones drama, period. Moving forward, folks can carry all the guilt and grime they wanna, just so long as they don’t give it to me! That aint my bag, baby. You own it. Handle ‘ that ‘, Partner.

I’m letting go . . .

Farwell . . . Toodles . . . Smooches . . .See Ya!

I’m sure you get the picture.

And for the sake of checks and balances, nor will sit around in my own stanky shit and pretend it smells like fresh spun cotton candy, on a warm summer day. Shit stinks. I don’t care what you do to cover it up, or how it’s packaged . . . it’s still shit. Period. There is work to be done. And that’s all I have to say about it. I welcome 2006 with open arms and I anticipate positive results. HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE ! I hope 2006 is good to ya !

With that being said: There are a few new pics, over at my precious SNAP-O- RAMA.

Holla at the Dame !

Geez, I Sure Would Appreciate Some Answers. . .

Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid only of standing still.
- Chinese Proverb

I concur. We as human beings are a never ending work in progress. Remaining stagnant in our thoughts, actions and spirit is guaranteed to yield the same monotonous results time and time again. And in the grand scheme of this thing called life, growing through the ugliness is a bittersweet part of the process.

I understand that I still have much growing and learning and living to do. I’se still a young Grasshoppa with many lessons in store. There are an abundance of skills and traits I have not yet mastered. The ironic part is, I feel as though by the time I become a wise old owl . . . surely my body will fail me and I will die. The end. Just like a movie.

I have to wonder why life works this way. I enjoy a challenge, but damn - where’s the payoff? In heaven? The after-life? You know, it’s funny how many of us look to be rewarded for our struggles at the “Pearly Gates”. Like St.Peter is going to allow us access to a paradise unlike anything we’ve known or could fathom in our daily lives. A place where lions sleep on the bosoms of lambs . . . and everything is love, peace, happiness and understanding.

Is that the way it works?

Call me a cynic, but at one time in history, some Humans thought that if we sailed too far in our make-shift ships, surely we would fall off the edge of the Earth. The Greeks belived in more than one God, creating myths , to give their lives some reason and understanding. The Religious Crusades will go down is history as one of the most brutal and savage attacks against Man - all done in the name of God. But it was really all about money, power and intolorence. And then there’s Voodoo . . .

I could go on and on with this . . . I could go real far with it and say that the Bible is a book of fairy tales interpreted by Man, once again, to give our lives some rhyme and reason - and to control the masses. I know I’ve ruffled some Christian feathers now . . . but I can’t deny my uncertainty.

I don’t claim to be an religious expert (I’se still a young Grasshoppa, remember?) I mean no disrespect to anyones beliefs. Surely I don’t have all the answers. Just as you, I’m looking for something to believe in too. I am without faith. This could not possibly be a good thing. The point I’m trying to make is that I can’t stand on the word of ‘Man’, alone. I don’t trust it.

I believe in a higher power . . . and I do my best to live right. But I really wish my Creator would speak to me in a language I can understand. I need guidance. Dear creator, if you’re reading this post could you please holla back?

I’m not talking about some miracle type of stuff, either - nor a mystery voice from the sky . . . I want some face to face contact. Don’t we all deserve that as human beings? And I’m not trying to hear from any 5 Percenter’s talking about “The Black Man Is God”, either.

I’m probably rambling . . . don’t mean too. I guess I’m rambling on the inside. Rambling, but moving . . . and not stagnant.

I just wish our Creator would just show his/her/its face, talk to us directly and resolve some of the madness taking place in our world. But in the meanwhile, I’ll just continue to grow slowly . . . and eventually die. *sigh* But before I “kick the bucket” and move on to the unknown . . . perhaps I’ll have some proverbs of my own to write.

Trapped In A Theater

THE SCENERIO :

Friday night.
My younger sister & I.
Several glasses of cheap White Zinfandel.
A few generous ‘puffs’.
Posted up in the Penumbra Theatre.
Highly anticipating the performance of “Grandchildren of the Buffalo Soldiers”
Front row seats.
Center aisle.
*SOLD OUT*
My senses are on alert to the 10th power.
I peep how EXTREMELY close we are to the action.
So CLOSE, that If I wanted to, I could’ve propped my foot up on the stage.
So CLOSE, that I could’ve been an ‘extra’ in the play.
So CLOSE, that I started to feel a bit awkward.
So CLOSE, that I just had to mention it to my sister.
So CLOSE, that we both started to make ‘funnies’ about our potential dilemma.
Um, maybe front row seats weren’t such a good idea, after all . . .

Stage lights blared in our faces.
Bright White, Red, Blue & Pink.
The curtain opened.
The music cued.
The lights dimmed.
Enter stage left.
The main character took his position front and center.
Hella dramatic.
Florida Evans, Damn, Damn, Damn! Dramatic.
I looked at my sister.
She looked at me.
That’s when I felt it.
Slowing creeping from the “rooter” to the ” tooter”.
A serious case of the “giggles”.
Oh Lord, please not now. Not during the play. . .
I couldn’t help it.
My body shook uncontrollably as I doubled over and silently chuckled.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
I didn’t dare look at my sister.
But, I could feel her body trembling too.
I closed my eyes for 20 minutes.
Consumed with the fear that if I uttered a sound, I would disrupt the play and be bannished the from Penumbra Theatre for life.
For a few seconds I almost stopped breathing.
I couldn’t go to the bathroom.
I couldn’t escape.
I was trapped in the theatre.
Thank God I’ve ‘baby’ mastered the ability to focus.
Thank God for intermissions.
I will never, ever get seats that friggin’ close, again.
Unless perhaps it’s a musical comedy.

*Exhale*

Solitaire

sorry charlie
you’re not “the one”

if it makes you feel
any better
the guy before you
wasn’t “the one”
either

and
more than likely
the next mister
to come along
probably- won’t - be - “the one”

true
i’ve once wanted
someone
to be “the one”
but he
quickly told me
“baby,i’m not the one”

there are many others that
coulda been
“the one”
but
he lived too far
and
i don’t drive
or
he smoked cigarettes
or
his dick was too little
or
i didn’t like his colonge
or
he was too nice
or
he was too short
or
he had a lisp when he spoke
or
he still lives with his momma
or
he was too square
and
i was too ghetto
or
he did too many drugs
and
had too much unprotected sex
or
he was perfect
and
i was afraid . . .

given
my inconsistent disposition
and poor judgement
i may have already
encountered “the one”
& turned him away
cuz
he didn’t
appear
to be
“the one”

whatever the case is
for the time being
all of the above
works
for me

i do solitaire very well

like jilly
from philly
sang