pack light. ohhh, oh!

Imagine taking a stroll down the street and seeing a beautiful Porsche for sale. All black everything, this car is stunning and breath-taking. The price is really reasonable… in fact, it’s practically a steal! You look inside the window to see that the car has 200,000+ miles on it. You, as the buyer, will probably do one of two things:

1.     You will decide that the car is not worth the trouble and leave it alone.

2.     You will buy the car (for little to nothing) and decide to use it while you can- expecting to toss it when it breaks down on you in the middle of the 205 freeway.

This could be similar to you- “breaking down” in the middle of Whole Foods on your significant other- making a huge scene because he/she said something that reminded you of a triflin’ ex lover. When you are traveling down the road of life, you acquire mileage. That is a given. Recently, I had conversations with people who are emotionally scarred- and it makes sense. People have a harder time seeing what real, healthy love looks like. Their parents barely say two words to one another. Their past relationships have literally shape shifted from gold to dog shxt. Basketball wives, football wives, baseball wives, housewives of Atlanta … and I cannot find one, legitimate wife on television. A lot of my friends are graduating from college believing that love is something that died in the 90s with the VHS and ducktail braids.

            So you “don’t believe in love”? cool. However, there is a problem: human beings are dependent on intimacy and innately search for someone to love them. Whether it is at the age of 19 or 60, eventually, we will level with ourselves and admit that we want someone to genuinely care-in a romantic sense- about who we are. A lot of my guy friends say, “I’m never getting married” or “Imma be a fifty year old bachelor”. Cute. The bible talks about roads commonly traveled being fruitless in its destination. However, the winding, narrow road always pays off in the end. Loving is hard and tedious. It calls for vulnerability, trust, and seeing yourself in its rawest form; But the reward is priceless. At my graduation dinner, my grandmother was in tears .. dying laughing because my grandfather was…well, being my grandfather. “Edgar!” she said panting, “You make me laugh, boy, you make me laugh.” It’s been fifty-two years and I swear, their love has sustained one another. That, my friends, is priceless. 

“you said you’re learning to trust men again. But this is love, made unselfish. Made for you to feel empowered, at the same time helpless.” – Common.

paper-clipped praying hands

"you've gotta past and i do to; we're perfect for each other..."

i was talking about testimonies with my friend today and i realized how much God really makes us tailor-made to inspire others. It's really astonishing. a testimony about self-hatred, estranged fathers, loss of family and friends, illness, or poverty can work to build up other people around us. it can really help to strengthen a person's character.

however, i think it's important that we watch carefully about shifting our testimonies into baggage. there is truly a fine line. often times, the things we have overcome make us stronger, but they can also make us self-riteous, bitter, apprehensive in love, and SKEPTICAL of everyone around us. everyone claims to have "a past" or a former heartbreak. join the club.

AND i don't have a solution. i wish i did. essentially, we are our past experiences - a bundle of events and our reactions to them. we can learn from hardship with humility, positivity and creativity. OR, we can let them dictate us and haunt us. just a thought, happy saturday :)

play with my fire .

ever thought you could stab someone with another human being ?
weaves . nails . belly button rings & shiny things .
past late night creeps used as an edge to carve it into a shank .

ever thought someone could be the ammunition for a disaster ?

a grenade filled with fitted hats, cologne, and basketball shorts . . .

the handle pulled and landing in your lap .

yea, where im from ... we call that baggage .

we try to move on in life and these dangerous shanks & grenades tip toe there way into your new relationship . They send a text . They aim us . They see you at a party, a kickback, walking to the store . Then that shxt blows up . It scrapes our necks . . . reminds us of the pain , the turmoil, where you don't wanna be ... or where you do . That's the funny thing about baggage . We like to pretend like everything in that bag was bad , we like to be in denial .

Little do we know, messing with baggage is like playing with fire ... sooner or later, you'll have third degree burns on your fingertips . I know plenty of girls who think they can tamper with their past just a little and that grenade blows up . They start texting cordially , then everyday, then they forget about all the lies, and cheating, and screaming . I know plenty of guys who dip their toes in baggage and pull em back out with bloody nubs instead lol . I equate baggage with dangerous weapons 'cause half the time they know what they're doing . THEY WANT YOU BACK , duh .

hey, sometimes it's worth it to resolve what you think is worth resolving . other times, you're left bruised, scarred & without the person who mattered most . . .