Once when I was little...

I am not doing this for any type of praise...

Once when I was little... Maybe not so little, but little in the sense of age. I was 12 to be exact. My mother was working hard, she had changed a lot of her ways.. She was determined to make me happy. To make me fit in even when it seemed finacially impossible... That Christmas was sure to be the best of my life. There were sooo many presents under that tree. Someone broke into our house on Dec 22nd. Everything was stolen of course. This made me realize that people would go to the most extreme to make their families happy. Not to justify what happened. My mom went to this program with Toys For Tots. One where you submit your name and your situation, and people who had the means to be generous would choose someone to give a gift to... On Christmas Eve, Stacy Jones (no relation) showed up at my house. She had bought everything that was stolen, and given it to me. She was a 20 year old college student. That taught me 2 things. To be humble, and not to be selfish. My mother cried and talked to her for what seemed to be hours...

I didn't get why she cried, I didnt get how emotionally strong Stacy was. North Carolina has a similar program. I stared at a picture of my mom for hours on the 6th. I decided that I would donate my XBOX 360 to some kid for Christmas... I didn't want to meet the family, just wanted to give back... I got a phone call from a Millie Drisco, she gave me the rundown on a few families. One kid was 12, good grades, plays football, product of a single mother and a father that didn't really care. His mother is 30 and works at a hotel... That hit sooo close to home... I met with him, his mother, and his uncle... She cried and thanked me soo much. Then I realized why my mother cried and how strong Stacy was. I felt so depressed to know that even Great People struggle. But was immediatley cheered up by knowing that is when other Great People pick up the slack...

iJonesy (X)

Twitch

Twitch. I am strung out. You know you get that 1st high. That first taste, and you continue to want it. You want those few seconds of ecstacy, even though you know nothing, but more wanting proceeds. Yet you do it anyway. Hoping that this time it will last a little longer, you will be a little high-er. Thats why we do it anyway. To duplicate that sst time, to get a little higher. Seems impossible, but maybe this time is it. Or maybe I am playing Russian Roulette. Whatever the case, it is my game, my life, my high, my twitch. I am strung out.

Thought Of the Day

This one came to me while I was walking on a sidewalk. When I was younger we used to do this thing while walking on sidewalks. "Step on a crack, break your mothers back." Seems harmless.
Only difference was my mother was in a abusive relationship, and it seemed as if everytime I stepped on a crack, well you know the rest. Back to today, I was walking on this sidewalk, and still avoiding cracks. Crazy, huh?!

Something else is: People tend to build these things up on weak foundations. I say if a person is not practically saying that you are someone that they would like to build something with, then don't set yourself up for suicide. I, myself can say I have been in this situation a few times. With people liking me, and end up hating me because I was not interested in a relationship with them... My thing is I look for friends before I do anything else. But this isnt about me. It is to say. OIf you are not at least 98 percent sure about something dont invest a lot of time and energy into it. Results are sometimes fatal and uneccessary.

-Thats All

21

I have always been that guy that people go to when they seek advice. The one with "his head on straight", all of my marbles, or no loose screws. Maybe you as a person on the outside looking in will think that is irrelevant. I don't.

Where do I pick up. Few years later, no longer in the 3rd house, actually in the 1st one on the left, now. Drama in my life is pretty much.... LOL, not happening. This can be my "what if" story. My "hypothetically of course". It's not often I get to be soft, so here we go.

What if I completely gave you me, be it now or years later. If I take it slower than slow, and still make the decision to make you my all. If I completely let m guards down, and show you how I feel. Illustrate my emotions for you at every given chance. Lose, the "secure" not caring front, and show you the vulnerable, damaged person I have become. I bleed confidence, but what if I show you my insecurities.

Good 'what if". Right? Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So you take that bitch by the horns and you say "Let's Go". Let it change you. Great motto, but does that mean you jump at every chance you get, to do anything. Or is it okay to pass it up. A thing I tell my self a lot is "Fearless, not stupid". I plan on knowing and respecting my limits. While exceeding them, daily. I don't want to settle. I want the best, for me.

So what if I let you in. What if I showed you how to hurt me, no matter my track record. What if once again, I gambled and presented a chance for heartache, pain, and drama, to play a role in my life. All for the sake of being happy.. whatever that is. What if I became your blank canvas, your ball of clay. What if I wasn't talkative. What if whenever I get to hug you again, I am don't speak. I just let our hearts have conversation that our mouths are too afraid to?!

-Hypothetically of course.

Emotional Rape (Cold Turkey)

Umpteen years later, down the road, the 3rd house from the end. That's where you woulda found me. Finger tips are cold, but I feel as if I am burning up from fever. I remeber when we met. I told my mom about her. "Your fingers are cold. You are in love", that's what she said. My mother and her superstitions... Guess it works the same way when you are falling out of love.
Cold turkey, that's what I will call this one. Cold sweats and waking up all through the night. The emotional overdose had been readily available. At my disposal, if I can say that. My own personal rollercoaster. The ups and the downs. You know, that feeling you get in your stomach when you go over a hump too fast. "When your heart falls in you stomach", that's what it's called. If ever I want to go to ecstacy it was right there at home.
Funny how ironic life is. You build to break. You get on the edge but you can't jump. Where is the fun in irony? Especilly now. Mama said "Sometimes you have to bleed out, let the wounds heal, and try it again". Or my favorite, "Get back up and try again. I didn't raise a quitter." After I got used to not falling though... It hurt that much more when I try to stand again.
Umpteen years later, down the road, the 3rd hous from the end that's where I was. Purging. Cleansing my body. "Cold Turkey", losing the addiction. That addiction. COld fingers, cold sweat, but you are balled up under that blanket. The hunger for that high supresses you appetite. I answer my phone attempting to hide that lump my your throat. Knowing that question "What's wrong?" always releases it. Shivering lips and shaky, sweaty hands. Open heart, funny how faliing in and out of love, hmph... Same symptoms differnt illness.

Personalntrest(Addiction) "Fatal Attraction"

Thinking, if I would have known from the start I'd still be here... I don't know why she had that control over me. Why she could alter my emotion with one word. I don't know where that fiery passion came from. I dont know why I got feelings involved. I don't know why they never went away. I don't know why the sky is blue or the grass geen.
Life loves the liver of it. Do I embrace it, cherish it, shelter it? By doing this do I not cease to live just a little? Wuth that being said , am i careless, wrecklees, and do I juts live for the thrill? Forgetting ones personal welfare, for the sake of ones happines. "Sometimes not feeling, is the best feeling at all" -Jonesy.
Fatal Attraction is what I will call this on. Fatal, but what does it matter. Even the Constitution states that i have ther right to pursue happiness. My mom taught me "trouble is trouble no matter how pretty it is dressed up". She also taught me " You must truly ndure hard times, in order to cherish good ones." Also, "Every well lit room has a dark corner." Lastly " If there is something you want, and it maks you happy then FIGHT, with every bit of energy your body can exeert. If it comes crashing down in the end, you will know that you put our all into it"
Hey mama, I guess your boy has become a man.I don't know why I am so forgiving. I dont know why I am so emotional. I dont know why God chose to give me this gift of expression. I dont know why she can take control over me. I dont know why I fell obliged, happily though.
I do know My mother raised me to be a man A thinker and a lover. A fighter when time called for it. A lover of good times. And the opressor of bd times. A voice of my silent emotion. By living my life. I eill Pursue nd achieve happiness. No matter how much I have to fight, cry, love, be hurt. I know in the end i witnessed the darkest of the dark to achieve my light...

-iJonesy

Stereotype

Nigga..Nigger. I do not usually use the word. But today I decided I would embrace it. I will be a Nigga, even if it makes me a Nigger. I will allow Nigga/Nigger to be my best friend and my enemy. My brother. I will be Colored. Look at television sets, even they agree. Without a little color shit is simply boring. I won't be a Nigger and feed into your stereotypes. But I will be a Nigga. I am a man. Muddy Waters said that. A man of color. A Nigga. The inventor of rock and roll. I am a nigga. I am a warrior. My light skin compliments my dark eyes and hair. My Nigga genetics make it possible for the sun to cast a shadow off of my muscles. My Nigga genetics make me a natrual fighter. My Nigga genetics make it possible to have you pick me for ANY sport.... Then you find out I am only a poet with no siblings.. Nigga..Nigger

"Jones, you're not black. You can't get mad because we say it"

Thats what triggered this. I am not black. Is that the reason even watching renactments of racist crimes make me tear up. Or the fact that MLK puts me to sleep. I find my self nodding my head and raising my hands as if the speech is not 45 years old. I am a man of color. On who feels pain.
I can't get mad? Honestly, I laugh at it. I stopped letting stupidity piss me off when I became man. So when I smile. I am not laughing with you. I am laughing at you... I know you look at me no different. I know I am just another "Nigger" to you. I know that when I turn my back you mumble it under your breath... Just like you say it behind your brothers back. I know why... You are intimidated. You want my skin. You want my dark meat. You want to be a part of something that worked to get where it is. You want to walk in my shoes. Play soldier in my position. Have sex with my sisters. You want to celebrate Obama. You want to claim/disclaim Micheal Jackson. It is a sad truth that racism has engulfed the minds of a vast majority of today's society. It is also a sad truth that that same majority has faltered to stupidity. It has become a way of life. It is a disease. I can't get mad.. I don't you humor me. You wave that sword. That weapon. You carry it and you use it. You live by it. "When you live by the sword, you die by the sword."

-iJonesy