happy belated birthday, stevi.

OH ! i turned 21 on sunday. i would tell you all about it, but ... you know. anywho, i want to thank everyone who wished me a great day, showed love, or simply gave me a little thought. it was greatly appreciated :)

i don't know what TWENTY ONE means exactly, but i can sense that this marks a different chapter in my life that will exceed anything i did before. I am finding so much peace with life - all of the triumphs, joys, tragedies & everything in between. God is allowing me to see things in a new, vibrant, enlightened way. I'm just so grateful. I love myself and i'm feeling like the world is my playground. (i wonder if i sound extremely crazy, lol...nevertheless, i have never had so much clarity).

I also want to acknowledge my sister Samantha who passed away. I thought about her a lot on my birthday and i wish she could have been here to scream at me through the telephone. I'm going to use her legacy as a constant internal reminder to cherish everyday and accept nothing but the absolute best for myself.


never regret loving in permanent ink...

PTSD: post traumatic slave disorder

I am not perfect. In fact, I am far from the standard of perfection. When I write about the many aspects of life –whether it is music, dating, God, or self-actualization- I’m striving to spread a sense of consciousness. I do not write to formulate some “sound doctrine” of living or create the new mold of societal behavior. I find human complexity to be beautiful and something worth preserving.

Nevertheless, we live in an age that is unlike any other before us. I remember reading “Letters to a Young Brother” (because I’m ridiculous) and Hill Harper tells his reader that he is the next and newest model of human. Like a car, each preceding creation is better than the next. Even though we have the tools and intellect that surpasses our predecessors, we still find pleasure in ignorance. Quite frankly, it is disheartening. It baffles me.

We revolve around worldstarhiphop and celebrity gossip. If there is anything “new” in the media, we “play pretend” internally- disguising our entire mindset. We're Obsessed with alternative lifestyles and trends that are merely replicas of things done in previous generations. We’re an arrogant generation – pretending that the Madonna’s, Marilyn Manson’s, Prince’s, and Oscar Wilde’s did not exist before us ... the "real" rockstars. We are master pretenders, the aesthetic remixers -simply imitating the prototype and calling it our own. We confine ourselves to the smallest possible versions of ourselves and trick ourselves while we bathe in our complacency.

I always pray for my generation. I don’t care if they make stupid decisions or even if they’re disrespectful. I care about their oblivious mindsetabsolutely clueless about the way the world is molding their perspectives on life, without their permission. I have never seen so many people caught up in the most trivial things. There are BILLIONS of people in the world. There are other countries, REAL misery & joy across the ocean, stories to be told in your grandmother’s kitchen, memories to be had outside of our facebook accounts, books to be read, revolutions to jumpstart and life to be embraced.  there are things that are bigger than this nonsense - eternal concepts that the human language is not complex enough to define. Until we can get in touch with our spirituality and being,  We’ll always be slaves. 


oh, language .. mm.

"We are unraveling our navels so that we may ingest the sun. 

We are not afraid of the darkness. 

We trust that the moon shall guide us. 

We are determining the future at this very moment. 

We know that the heart is the philosopher's stone. 

Our music is our alchemy." 

 Saul Williams



here's the key to love; we don't make copies.

When God shifts the playlist of your life to “True Love”, attraction should be stemming from within.
Skin complexion, money, status, and social connections simply do not make the cut.
True love does not rejoice in being blind, but finds peace within enlightenment.
True love breakdances on the basis of truth, not denial.
Love does not flee from adversity, but joins lovers together in a fight to the finish – confident in the outcome. Confident in God.
We always say we want a “ride or die”. But contrary to popular belief, your girlfriend fighting over you in a grocery store parking lot is not true love (**). That does not even compare to standing by you through poverty, self-actualization, aging, children or disease. that requires patience, gentleness .... real love.

True love understands that distance can equate to clarity. True love is humble and confident that space apart cannot dent a deep-rooted devotion.
Real love will help you to understand that smothering is only a consequence of desperation and doubt. Love brings trust and peace of mind.

True love is selfless.
Overflowing the brim with agape, true love yearns to heal the counterpart with absolutely nothing in return.
True love sways to the sound of God’s “Well done”.
True love sees sex for what it is: amazing, but not the glue- a gorgeous hand grenade given to the irresponsible.

STEP NUMBER ONE: realize what love is.
STEP NUMBER TWO: accept your state: infatuation or love?
Understand that flattery, obsession, attraction, sex, over-protectiveness, jealousy, compatibility, children, or even marriage cannot hold true love together. The foundation for true love is GOD. If you do not accept this, you’re in for MONUMENTAL HEARTBREAK. 

Me? I do not know myself completely and I am more than proud to say that. I am complex, multi-faceted and I have experienced things that have tattooed my mindset on life. Nevertheless, the more pitfall relationships I dive into or immature, insecure boys I entertain (not all lol, but some)… I know that whoever “HE” is will have to see the eternal beauty in me, take accountability for manhood, understand what love is & ultimately love God more than he loves me. 

**(pst, by the way… if your girlfriend or boyfriend is fighting over you, nine times out of ten they are just fighting their out of insecurities and jealousy. That's not love, dummy. lol).


A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge. - Thomas Carlyle

What I described in my prior post about “dragqueen love” was really just a description of infatuation. Love is not “blind”, infatuation is. Denial is the playground of infatuation- the “tingly emotions, butterflies, and hormones.” Now, nothing is ultimately wrong with infatuation but there is something remotely wrong with getting it confused with love. It would be like bringing a butter knife to a warzone – you’ll ultimately be ill-prepared for a trying and difficult circumstance. You need truth to survive with a partner for the long haul. in contrast, infatuation likes to turn its head away from the inconvenient truths.

People think they’re “in love” because they HAVE to be around the other person all.of.the.time (eye brow raised). Take a moment and think back to your high school dating and relationships, I’ll wait. How many times did you stay up on the phone late at night and deprive yourself of sleep just to hear them breathe? How many times did you spend every waking minute and hour together? Yes, count. Do you really think you were “IN LOVE” that many times? No, infatuation is a high that we're addicted to. it's so mesmerizing that we're scared it will evaporate. Subconsciously, we know that those feelings aren’t firm so we make sure our ‘lovers’ won’t leave: hence leaving us stuck to face the reality that it’s not real love in the first place. Love, real love, is so strong that you could leave knowing that the feelings are in a sound foundation.

I used to think that love was insanity. Nope, that is infatuation. You might ask what I mean by insanity or think “insanity” is subjective. I couldn’t agree more. Some think that things like:
-       -daydreaming about the other person
-      - becoming barbarically jealous and over-protective
-       -humping like rabbits in heat
are “love” insanity. No, that is simply infatuation insanity.  Those things listed stem from physical attraction (which is natural), insecurity about the relationship, and straight up being horny lol. In fact, sex is one of the biggest complications for people thinking they’re in love. The psychological research on sexuality is astounding. The Heritage Foundation found a substantial link between adolescent, pre-marital sex and depression/suicide rates. Personally, I look back at some of the guys I dated and talked to… if I had sex with them, I would virtually feel like a piece of shit now. & if you don’t believe the power of lust versus love, lookah here (btw, he’s hella graphic, so if you’ll be offended …don’t bother):

Link to the heritage foundation:


Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones. ~Mignon McLaughlin

I’m sure some of us break a sweat- sprinting and chasing the hope of “true love”.
We yearn for the kind of love that disintegrates the problems of the world like acid.
Burning and tearing through reality,
we want love that blindfolds us in a honeycombed paradise.
-Too sweet to taste the bitterness around us and so sticky that it slows down time.
Blind to the heavy hardships in life, this love would elevate elbows, toes, and hips into the air
 … looking down on the rest of the world.

We lift our eyes to the sky and with audible audacity - pray for “true love”.
Lovers that will crazy glue their ribs to one another in a desperate attempt to mimic Adam.
Facebook relationship statusing.
Kissing. Sharing the same breath, convinced that you’re conserving oxygen. You know you have asthma but you would flat line to spend more time …with her.
You tremble- terrified that if she walks away, you will be left to confront David’s slingshot of truth.

We want the kind of love that illuminates the good in our counterparts and buries the bad. Pushing these giant elephants into the corners of our limited rooms, we flatter and …wait for the storm of compliments to fall our heads in return. We give and wait for reciprocation.

We crave the kind of love that chains us in furry handcuffs wrapped to bedposts & each other.
This besotted love.
Smothering each other in momma-paid-for bed sheets.
Sinking in soft pillows and rough orgasms – hoping that roll-backed eyes will hold back time.
This obsessive love that transforms lovers into syringes, piercing the other’s veins with desperate dependency and hopes that are high enough to graze the feet of  a cringing God.

But I don’t need that “dragqueen love”: Infatuation dressed in “true love” wardrobe.


for the next few days i will be posting my post series on "LOVE". im sure it will make some people uncomfortable. it will make some nod in agreement or maybe have others mad at me (lol) who knows. i honestly wish i could muster up the strength to be more concerned about the latter. either way, i think it will help some poor lost soul out there who has made my mistakes, wants to avoid my mistakes, or has misconceptions about love in general. 

:) let's get it innnn shawty lol  ... (i know, i know).


three books, three outlooks.

okay: i read three new books in the past few weeks and i stand behind them (some more than others lol). any who, i am a very multi-faceted person so i think that is why the three authors appealed to me throughout the pages in three different ways. nevertheless, check em' out and see which apply to you :


Chip Ingram's "Love, Sex, and Lasting Relationships: God's prescription for enhancing your love life" was suggested to me by one of my homeboys (who i will not embarrass by mentioning his name lol). He said it was interesting and thought i would like it ... and i did. This book is for humans - married couples, newly single people, or even people who are single and wondering how they want to move forward. Ingram is honest and insightful - shutting down all of the superficial perceptions, expectations, and misconceptions about healthy relationships. If people read this book, i promise the married world would be a better place. I have personally gotten so much clarity, peace, and new perspectives towards relationships with this book.

Hilary Winston's "My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me" is a loud, "unclassy", crass nonfiction book about Winson's love life. After a bitter long term break up, Winston sees a book in Barnes and Noble where her boyfriend alludes to her as his "fat ass girlfriend". This funny, but quite pathetic story tells of her awkward dating life and reaches out to anyone who has been dumped, cheated on, lied to, or disrespected. More importantly, it stresses the idea of self-love and worth ... in a very messed up way lol.


Eckhart Tolle's "A New Earth" is honestly like nothing i have ever read before. If you have ever felt like people around you do not see what you do in society? in life? in people?... this book has your name written all over it. it takes your mind and spirit into a totally different way of thinking. in fact, it was just the tool i needed to get closer with God and understand inner peace before my friend passed away a few weeks ago. Sometimes it can feel like life has you tied to a string and is tossing you around like a rag-doll. well, because of this book i now understand what toni morrison meant when she said, "if you surrender to the wind, you can ride it."

*as a disclaimer, there were some things i did not agree with in all 3 of these books. our jobs as readers are not to soak in everything like a mindless sponge, but instead we should read it all, and decide things for ourselves.


miss mayda del valle .

i suppose i'll stop posting this when it stops becoming relevant to women everywhere .


thank you jihad .

"Gate C22" by Ellen Bass

At gate C22 in the Portland airport
a man in a broad-band leather hat kissed
a woman arriving from Orange County.
They kissed and kissed and kissed. Long after
the other passengers clicked the handles of their carry-ons
and wheeled briskly toward short-term parking,
the couple stood there, arms wrapped around each other
like he'd just staggered off the boat at Ellis Island,
like she'd been released at last from ICU, snapped
out of a coma, survived bone cancer, made it down
from Annapurna in only the clothes she was wearing.

Neither of them was young. His beard was gray.
She carried a few extra pounds you could imagine
her saying she had to lose. But they kissed lavish
kisses like the ocean in the early morning,
the way it gathers and swells, sucking
each rock under, swallowing it
again and again. We were all watching--
passengers waiting for the delayed flight
to San Jose, the stewardesses, the pilots,
the aproned woman icing Cinnabons, the man selling
sunglasses. We couldn't look away. We could
taste the kisses crushed in our mouths.

But the best part was his face. When he drew back
and looked at her, his smile soft with wonder, almost
as though he were a mother still open from giving birth,
as your mother must have looked at you, no matter
what happened after--if she beat you or left you or
you're lonely now--you once lay there, the vernix
not yet wiped off, and someone gazed at you
as if you were the first sunrise seen from the Earth.
The whole wing of the airport hushed,
all of us trying to slip into that woman's middle-aged body,
her plaid Bermuda shorts, sleeveless blouse, glasses,
little gold hoop earrings, tilting our heads up.

french kissing affliction .

 Then he said ,

"Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy envelopes filled with the essence of your passionate being and then opened by the same mouth and delivered back to you, over and over again - the first kiss of the rest of your life. A kiss that confirms that the universe is aligned, that the world's greatest resource is love, and maybe even that God is a woman. With or without a belief in God, all kisses are metaphors decipherable by allocations of time, circumstance, and understanding"

- Saul Williams .

sometimes, when pigs are flying in a fallen sky, i place my life in a tar pit. unable to move or make mistakes, it sits at ease, waiting for my command. i need that. and there, sitting in the moments of space and emptiness, i can collect myself enough to move forward. i gather the scents of disaster, the reflections of death, and echos of disappointment. i fill this heavy load with helium and let it fly away. the little things - a boyfriend bullet missed or saul william's quoted kiss, will just have to suffice for now ...
"honestly, im happy to be home but i know there's more to life than this. i'd rather be anywhere in the world than inside of my own comfort zone. complacency is the antithesis of success ."

facebook post, 06/07/2011



angels on earth.

GOD IS CALLING HIS CHILDREN HOME. please, get yourself right.

we need to be more honest.
we need to be more loving.
we need to be more REAL with ourselves & one another.
we need to squeeze tight on every breath because the next one is not promised.


standing nude in midnight.

i remember when life blushed from simplicity's smile.
but midnight did not exist back then.

midnight is the breeding ground for festering fears of who we are , at the cold core.
'round the bare hands of the clock - when it grips the 12th hour- actualization caresses my neck and squeezes brutally all the same.
midnight has tickled the soul since infancy-
luring us into the temptation of night-
the depths of possibility, unwarranted truth.

Her lips are painted black and blue, leaving the mind with depression kisses.
She has sultry, cascading locks - heavy with dread.
nights missing paramours or those who are dead;
midnight seduces insecurity out of the corners of our soul with a nude, josephine dance.
midnight's mouth births tunes of heartbreak memories singing sweet songs-
like a siren, those same symphonies will crawl into your eyes & crack the walls of water dams. 

inhibition washes the feet of midnight.
suppression is exiled during midnight.
sanity is a stranger 'round midnight.
lack of light scrapes off our calm, bearing blood and flesh - leaving the soul susceptible to the mind.
in the calm quiet darkness of night, we are left believing that we are the worst versions of ourselves.

midnight, with her legs spread and pushing - births the things that scurry in the light like roaches ...