Wednesday, September 26, 2012
The Sock Diaries: 9/26/2012
You ever make yourself a promise to not do something you knew would be bad for you, but you wanted to do it so bad, you just couldn't resist the urge. I did that recently, and it IMMEDIATELY backfired in the worst possible way that it possibly could. I have simply come to the assumption that you always give yourself advice for a VERY good reason. Have you ever tried to blow dust out of a bowl shaped object? The experience was a lot like that except that instead of dust, it was more like blazing hot volcanic ash, mixed with despair. Needless to say, I won't be ignoring my own advice anytime soon. I will also not be giving myself any advice any time soon. It feels a lot better when you can claim that no one told you not to do it.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Don't turn out the lights just yet...
Remember when you were younger, and you used to flip the light switch and dash for the bed, taking great care not to get your legs too close to the dark abyss under your bed as you leapt Indiana Jones style onto your bed, yet again narrowly escaping the monsters of the dark? And remember how you cowered under your trusty, cotton soft, super-titanium blanket, wrapping yourself in that shroud of impenetrable armor, knowing that the evil that lurked just outside stamped it's silent foot in rage at being foiled yet again?
All "normal" people have had that very rational fear of the dark. The reality is, most people don't realize exactly how close they still are to that fear. As you get older, your eyes develop, and your imagination wanes, as science and logic take hold of your adolescent mind and direct your focus to much more real, and inherent dangers, like embarrassment, or rejection, or failure.
We all end up with one major fear that shapes our lives in a major way, whether that fear be heights, (picking that office on the 3rd floor instead of the 33rd) sharks, (never telling your husband about that free cruise you won) failure, (alienating everyone around you and considering them a burden instead of a blessing) or the most common one, being alone.
We've all heard the phrase said, in some way or another "He/She is the light of my life." That metaphor stems from that common fear of the dark. When we're older, and looking for that perfect One (or two, or thirteen) that we want to spend the rest of our lives with, those nights alone can seem like the darkest times of all. When you have someone with you, in person or in spirit (not ghost, just in thought, mostly), the dark doesn't seem like such a scary place. It's a big, scary, malevolent-looking world out there when you try to go it alone. But you don' have to be. There is always someone who will be willing to hold your hand as you hit that switch, and make that leap of faith over that dark abyss into that bouncy haven. Just ask. They might be waiting for you.
All "normal" people have had that very rational fear of the dark. The reality is, most people don't realize exactly how close they still are to that fear. As you get older, your eyes develop, and your imagination wanes, as science and logic take hold of your adolescent mind and direct your focus to much more real, and inherent dangers, like embarrassment, or rejection, or failure.
We all end up with one major fear that shapes our lives in a major way, whether that fear be heights, (picking that office on the 3rd floor instead of the 33rd) sharks, (never telling your husband about that free cruise you won) failure, (alienating everyone around you and considering them a burden instead of a blessing) or the most common one, being alone.
We've all heard the phrase said, in some way or another "He/She is the light of my life." That metaphor stems from that common fear of the dark. When we're older, and looking for that perfect One (or two, or thirteen) that we want to spend the rest of our lives with, those nights alone can seem like the darkest times of all. When you have someone with you, in person or in spirit (not ghost, just in thought, mostly), the dark doesn't seem like such a scary place. It's a big, scary, malevolent-looking world out there when you try to go it alone. But you don' have to be. There is always someone who will be willing to hold your hand as you hit that switch, and make that leap of faith over that dark abyss into that bouncy haven. Just ask. They might be waiting for you.
Friday, September 21, 2012
The Sock Diaries 9/21/2012
So I was jacking off, right?
Ha, I don't have a story that goes with that right now, but I kind of always wanted to start a story that way. Anyway, I had just finished jacking off, right? And when I finished, I sat there for a second, trying not to make a mess on myself, when something struck me as odd. I turned around and looked at the woman I had just had sex with and wondered if I may or may not have a problem. Naturally, I decided against that notion. But I realized, I couldn't just keep sleeping with random women, trying to replace my ex. I mean, my post relationship sex list is about triple what it was before I got into that relationship. I mean, even my ex was on my post relationship list. I've never been a player, nor had I imagined I would ever be one.
My dream as a kid, was to find a woman who would look at me and imagine that the sun shines out of my ass, I shit rainbows, my fingers play angel harps, and my penis was one of God's toes. I could honestly say that my ex was that girl. But I wasn't satisfied with that. I don't know when guys develop this conquering complex, but I suddenly found myself wanting more. Not more as in emotional connection or moral support, but like more as in Playboy mansion style orgies, with Playboy Bunnies and dead celebrities like Anna Nicole Smith and Marilyn Monroe along with, NBA basketball stars, like Lebron James, Michael Jordan, and of course, Kobe and Tiger, and we all know why.
Honestly, I don't regret the decision, I regret that I'm at a point in my life where I was in a position where I had to do it. I always thought I had met her way too early in my life, and that I needed a few more years to man-whore myself around a bit, and live. Truth is, though, I really need to get to a point where all I'm doing is living. Just living. Ha. Man, sometimes I just wanna go home...
Ha, I don't have a story that goes with that right now, but I kind of always wanted to start a story that way. Anyway, I had just finished jacking off, right? And when I finished, I sat there for a second, trying not to make a mess on myself, when something struck me as odd. I turned around and looked at the woman I had just had sex with and wondered if I may or may not have a problem. Naturally, I decided against that notion. But I realized, I couldn't just keep sleeping with random women, trying to replace my ex. I mean, my post relationship sex list is about triple what it was before I got into that relationship. I mean, even my ex was on my post relationship list. I've never been a player, nor had I imagined I would ever be one.
My dream as a kid, was to find a woman who would look at me and imagine that the sun shines out of my ass, I shit rainbows, my fingers play angel harps, and my penis was one of God's toes. I could honestly say that my ex was that girl. But I wasn't satisfied with that. I don't know when guys develop this conquering complex, but I suddenly found myself wanting more. Not more as in emotional connection or moral support, but like more as in Playboy mansion style orgies, with Playboy Bunnies and dead celebrities like Anna Nicole Smith and Marilyn Monroe along with, NBA basketball stars, like Lebron James, Michael Jordan, and of course, Kobe and Tiger, and we all know why.
Honestly, I don't regret the decision, I regret that I'm at a point in my life where I was in a position where I had to do it. I always thought I had met her way too early in my life, and that I needed a few more years to man-whore myself around a bit, and live. Truth is, though, I really need to get to a point where all I'm doing is living. Just living. Ha. Man, sometimes I just wanna go home...
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
The Diary of Avery Blackman: Learning
It's been years since I'd been freed, and I still haven't seen one acre of my own land from my government. I now realize that it'll never happen. Now, I just hope to get a decent education so that I can get a job and buy my own land. My school is miles away, and without a bus system or any personally owned vehicles, I have to walk the distance. I finally made my way off of my former master's land, and am now living on my own. Times are brutally difficult in the south, the white men are bitterly determined to prevent me from making anything of myself. Things are a little different up north, but I get the feeling that even in the north, the white man doesn't feel like I am his equal. I will prove myself, and become something great, so that my children may walk in my legacy and remember my sacrifice and dedication. Praise God Almighty for the opportunities He has given me to prove myself. I believe in Him, even through the violence I endure simply for the color of my skin. I make it through with the power of song, and dance, for His namesake. I know I can be more than just a Nigger. One day, I will prove it to the world.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Moving up...
People talk a lot about moving on after a break up, where the people involved actually cared about each other. They give you some form of the "Get back up on the horse" speech and send their sympathetic looks your way. Your friends try to convince you that your ex wasn't all you cracked them up to be, and invite you out to go hunting for a temp replacement for a night.
This is all find and dandy, and it's awesome that you have such great friends, but in reality, you need something much more healing than a one-nighter with a Brazilian tranny.
You don't need your friends to belittle your ex, or to tell you all the dirty secrets they heard about them and the high school football team and cheerleaders before a homecoming game. Embrace the awesome you just lost. Think about all the great things about that person and how they made you feel. Then, go back and think about how awesome you used to think your ex was before that, and how your new ex made your old ex look like a failed extra point in the Superbowl in over-time. And if that was your first relationship, then just sit back and let Papa Sonata walk you through this.
When you're in a relationship, and all is well, and the sun shines out of your boyfriend or girlfriend's asshole and they shit rainbows and puke pixie dust, and suddenly, you're single and alone, things can get a bit dark. BUT DO NOT FRET! Hope is yet only around the corner. Or, more adequately, up the hill.
Try thinking of your time being single as you going up a hill. Each relationship you get into, is like a home you move into. You settle in, you try it out, and if it doesn't work out, you pack your bags and move out to continue your trip up the hill. Each new house you take the time to get to will be closer to the top of that hill. You'll leave each house with a little more baggage, and that'll make your trip up the hill that much harder each time. But you'll find that the houses up the hill have bigger couches, softer beds, and bigger closets, with more room for all of those bags you've acquired on your way with all the same commodities of the old house and more.
These things don't come easy, and you have to watch out for those mobile homes heading in the opposite direction. You might pit stop in one for a night, to catch your breath and rest your shoulders, but you get out, dear reader. You get out of that house fast, and continue your trip up that hill to the next house with a basement and real plumbing.
But that's enough of that analogy, I think you get the point. You can't just quit and wallow on the front lawn of your old house (there goes that analogy again), and you don't just need to move on, you need to move up.
This is all find and dandy, and it's awesome that you have such great friends, but in reality, you need something much more healing than a one-nighter with a Brazilian tranny.
You don't need your friends to belittle your ex, or to tell you all the dirty secrets they heard about them and the high school football team and cheerleaders before a homecoming game. Embrace the awesome you just lost. Think about all the great things about that person and how they made you feel. Then, go back and think about how awesome you used to think your ex was before that, and how your new ex made your old ex look like a failed extra point in the Superbowl in over-time. And if that was your first relationship, then just sit back and let Papa Sonata walk you through this.
When you're in a relationship, and all is well, and the sun shines out of your boyfriend or girlfriend's asshole and they shit rainbows and puke pixie dust, and suddenly, you're single and alone, things can get a bit dark. BUT DO NOT FRET! Hope is yet only around the corner. Or, more adequately, up the hill.
Try thinking of your time being single as you going up a hill. Each relationship you get into, is like a home you move into. You settle in, you try it out, and if it doesn't work out, you pack your bags and move out to continue your trip up the hill. Each new house you take the time to get to will be closer to the top of that hill. You'll leave each house with a little more baggage, and that'll make your trip up the hill that much harder each time. But you'll find that the houses up the hill have bigger couches, softer beds, and bigger closets, with more room for all of those bags you've acquired on your way with all the same commodities of the old house and more.
These things don't come easy, and you have to watch out for those mobile homes heading in the opposite direction. You might pit stop in one for a night, to catch your breath and rest your shoulders, but you get out, dear reader. You get out of that house fast, and continue your trip up that hill to the next house with a basement and real plumbing.
But that's enough of that analogy, I think you get the point. You can't just quit and wallow on the front lawn of your old house (there goes that analogy again), and you don't just need to move on, you need to move up.
Monday, September 10, 2012
The Sock Diaries 9/10/2012
I was walking down the street recently, thinking about a party I hadn't been invited to.
"It's alright," I told myself. "It'll be late at night, and that's when I dress up in a costume and fight crime and save babies from burning buildings." That's what I told myself. (I was about 15 when I gave up on my dream of being a superhero ninja.) That's not what I'll be doing. In reality, I'll probably be playing video games, eating overpriced, late delivered Chinese food, waiting on a call from the girl who isn't good for me, or the other girl who isn't good for me, or the girl who didn't invite me to her party. Who also isn't good for me.
We all imagine ourselves as the protagonist of our own story. Often we do things we regret and wish we were in a reality where we could provide a valid excuse for doing something incredibly stupid. "Officer, the cure to cancer was supposed to be in that bag of weed. Look, I'll sell it to you for half he price I was going to sell it to that guy for."
The fact is, you're not always going to be the hero/heroine you wish you were. Sometimes you're the villain. More likely, you might come out as the trusty sidekick. And then, the most likely of all, you're the innocent bystander dodging debris and and hoping you're not the one who gets crushed by the billboard. Most of us don't want to go through our lives and come out on the other side unimpressive and unremembered. We spend so much of our time wanting to be loved, respected, and wanted, sometimes we become that villain. Or, worse, we forget to love ourselves.
I've been guilty of that, lately. Forgetting to take a minute and soak in a pool of my own awesome. I have a lot to get together, anyway. I really need to get my head on straight before I think about bringing anyone else into my situation. I've got some high hopes and a pretty positive attitude. And I don't even have an S on my chest.
"It's alright," I told myself. "It'll be late at night, and that's when I dress up in a costume and fight crime and save babies from burning buildings." That's what I told myself. (I was about 15 when I gave up on my dream of being a superhero ninja.) That's not what I'll be doing. In reality, I'll probably be playing video games, eating overpriced, late delivered Chinese food, waiting on a call from the girl who isn't good for me, or the other girl who isn't good for me, or the girl who didn't invite me to her party. Who also isn't good for me.
We all imagine ourselves as the protagonist of our own story. Often we do things we regret and wish we were in a reality where we could provide a valid excuse for doing something incredibly stupid. "Officer, the cure to cancer was supposed to be in that bag of weed. Look, I'll sell it to you for half he price I was going to sell it to that guy for."
The fact is, you're not always going to be the hero/heroine you wish you were. Sometimes you're the villain. More likely, you might come out as the trusty sidekick. And then, the most likely of all, you're the innocent bystander dodging debris and and hoping you're not the one who gets crushed by the billboard. Most of us don't want to go through our lives and come out on the other side unimpressive and unremembered. We spend so much of our time wanting to be loved, respected, and wanted, sometimes we become that villain. Or, worse, we forget to love ourselves.
I've been guilty of that, lately. Forgetting to take a minute and soak in a pool of my own awesome. I have a lot to get together, anyway. I really need to get my head on straight before I think about bringing anyone else into my situation. I've got some high hopes and a pretty positive attitude. And I don't even have an S on my chest.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
The Diary of Avery Blackman: Freedom
Today I realized that years in unpaid employment has left me with nothing. I complained to my government, and they promised that once the dust from the war had settled, I would receive reparations for my decades of work. Land and a beast of burden that I could own myself. It's a glorious day, I just hope that things get settled soon. My former master offered me and my family a job working on his land for actual money. I'll pay him rent and buy my food from him, but it's alright because at least this way, I'm still paying my own way. He even gave me a start-up loan to get me on my feet. He told me I could just pay him back at the end of the month, and with all the work I'm doing, it should be no problem. I'd love to start school soon, but the whites won't allow me into their schools, and have yet to build any for me. I'm sure it'll be a matter of time before the great President Lincoln comes through for me and I'll be living on and farming my own land.
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