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
Monday, April 26, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
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
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
Thursday, June 4, 2009
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
"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
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Take This Body it is Yours
I feel the urgency to purge. So shut up, stop thinkin', sit back, and read.
I am Dennis "iJonesy" Jones. I am a creator. I am created. I am a talented male of color. These eyes have saw more struggle then they reveal. These eyes are the epitome of deep brown. These eyes will let you in or leave you knocking.
These lips have forced many smiles. Cursed many people. These lips have kissed an angel with the most pretty wings. These lips have comforted and spoken true love. These lips have liberated, and torn down. These lips have spoken lies, and been wet from the tears of sorrow.These lips are contradicting...
These cheeks. These cheeks have been bright red in embarassment. They have been blush after a compliment. The reveal my dimples. They have been sore from laughing, wet from crying, ached for talkin alot. These Cheeks... These cheeks...
These ears have heard the best of news to the loudest of screams. The sweetest music to the loudest explosion. Accidentally recieved the faint breath of a angel. These ears have listened to all of the problems. They have burned and turned red from jealousy.
Theses arms have lifted the impossible while carrying the weight of the world. They have been touched an sent into an immediate chill. They have shaken from Muscle Failure, and bled from mistakes. Squeezed tightly, and held loosley.
Theses Legs have ran thousands of miles, and walked double. They have been sore from the result of no car. They shine even though they are hairy and they keep me light. They dangle from a parachute harness as I leap from a plane, and when I ake contact with the ground they support me still.
These Hands, Oh boy theses hand. My favorite part. My hands are me. Man/Soldier/lover/fighter. These hands are the outlet of my brain. They touch in the sweetest way, and they cause the worst pain. They ache from typing, and go numb when i support my head with them through the night. The make the best music, and throw the straightest of blows. These hands wonder. They search and destroy. They assist but they can force. My brain once put my hands through 12 hours of purging. Not once did they complain. Truth is my brain tapped out first.
"Take my body its yours" Look past the distorted image media and the tainted of society have put on this, and see it for what it is. This body is yours. You can have these ears, the lips, the cheeks. You can have it all. If I say "lets make love" that means I want to absorb all of you as you do I. Nothing less, but alot more.
I write what I write for a reason. If it doesnt make sense to you then you wer not meant to be touched by it. Try another one of my "typings". But if you were then this is you. Simply, react. I can type all day, but you hear me..
iJonesy
I am Dennis "iJonesy" Jones. I am a creator. I am created. I am a talented male of color. These eyes have saw more struggle then they reveal. These eyes are the epitome of deep brown. These eyes will let you in or leave you knocking.
These lips have forced many smiles. Cursed many people. These lips have kissed an angel with the most pretty wings. These lips have comforted and spoken true love. These lips have liberated, and torn down. These lips have spoken lies, and been wet from the tears of sorrow.These lips are contradicting...
These cheeks. These cheeks have been bright red in embarassment. They have been blush after a compliment. The reveal my dimples. They have been sore from laughing, wet from crying, ached for talkin alot. These Cheeks... These cheeks...
These ears have heard the best of news to the loudest of screams. The sweetest music to the loudest explosion. Accidentally recieved the faint breath of a angel. These ears have listened to all of the problems. They have burned and turned red from jealousy.
Theses arms have lifted the impossible while carrying the weight of the world. They have been touched an sent into an immediate chill. They have shaken from Muscle Failure, and bled from mistakes. Squeezed tightly, and held loosley.
Theses Legs have ran thousands of miles, and walked double. They have been sore from the result of no car. They shine even though they are hairy and they keep me light. They dangle from a parachute harness as I leap from a plane, and when I ake contact with the ground they support me still.
These Hands, Oh boy theses hand. My favorite part. My hands are me. Man/Soldier/lover/fighter. These hands are the outlet of my brain. They touch in the sweetest way, and they cause the worst pain. They ache from typing, and go numb when i support my head with them through the night. The make the best music, and throw the straightest of blows. These hands wonder. They search and destroy. They assist but they can force. My brain once put my hands through 12 hours of purging. Not once did they complain. Truth is my brain tapped out first.
"Take my body its yours" Look past the distorted image media and the tainted of society have put on this, and see it for what it is. This body is yours. You can have these ears, the lips, the cheeks. You can have it all. If I say "lets make love" that means I want to absorb all of you as you do I. Nothing less, but alot more.
I write what I write for a reason. If it doesnt make sense to you then you wer not meant to be touched by it. Try another one of my "typings". But if you were then this is you. Simply, react. I can type all day, but you hear me..
iJonesy
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The Soldier Who Walks With His Head Down
I said to myself. This will be your most thought out yet. For once I said. Fuck the reader. I don’t care how lengthy it is or how many words I type.
I sit here and I am conflicted within myself. That’s the worst by the way. Arguing with the person who knows you best… You. It is May 14, 2009 here as of now I don’t know what I am going to title this. I know I want to reveal. That a once very close friend to me. His birth day was May 13th. I initially opened his Facebook profile to say “You are the luckiest, you got to come out of ya sexy mama’s vagina on this day… Let’s trade.” See Bennett’s mother is extremely beautiful. It was an inside joke with the athletes of Northwest. What I saw floored me that day, 1830 May 13 2009. I saw people wishing him a happy birthday, followed by R.I.P... For the record. That profile is still on my screen. I am not sure of when it happens, but I know how, and it makes me cherish life. A little more.
Why am I conflicted? I feel like I am trying to excuse myself for not knowing. There is no excuse. I am in Iraq, had I kept in touch, said hello. Didn’t wait till his birthday. Or holidays. Maybe I would have known. I know people live and die. But for a friend to die and you not know it. Wow, I can’t help but wonder if he is angry with me for not knowing. Not talking to him as much. But then again. He is Bennett the easiest going person in the world. Seriously…
Before every situation that molds me in my life happens. I have the weirdest feeling. I have millions of thoughts. I actually recorded them this time. I wrote over 6 blogs and A 12 chapter book in 2 days. I thought it was my way of purging. I thought finally, without writers block. My brain was bleeding. I let it. 20 years of suppressed emotion came out. After the massive headache, and the dead sleep. I felt so relieved I smiled all of May 12 2009. I had purged. And I had shared my story…
I felt like a horrible friend when I found this out. It took some of my friends from my past reminding me of good times. Fun times. How innocent youth was, and how taken for granted it was, but we did it and enjoyed it. How we were so silly, and mostly how Bennett and I were not the only people to fall out of touch… Touché friends… Touché
My career, as of now it keeps me out of touch. I was here when Bennett died. This is ultimately my 1st excuse in my book. I don’t have much to say in this paragraph. It’s my career. I enjoy it, but even the people who have their dream job. I.E. rappers, pro athletes. Even they have days when they hate their job. This is mine.
Nija told me in a comment on FB. I always had a way with words. Christian absorbs her in everything I write. Natalie said I have the gift of expression. My mother says I like MLK so much because like him I can move people. I can sway people. An ex called me manipulative in a good way. I didn’t know there was a thing. A fight instructor told me I should be a lawyer because I can destroy people with words. Anne Jones told me I was destined to be a man of god I used perfect analogies, and was born “bible based”. Leaders tell me I am a good leader, and I don’t even try to be. Friends say I liberate them. Natalie said I changed her. Christian, loves me.
I feel as if I have said enough. One day my stat read on facebook. If u looks down when you walk you are conceited. Someone asked me why I always looked down when I walked. I do. I look at my shadow though. So I was called conceited. But On May 14, 2009 I didn’t. I got out of my bed, and I needed air. I grabbed my hat and eye protection and I got up and walked. The stale, dusty air of Iraq was fresh that night. I looked down as I walked. My hands were in my pocket, I had taken off my hat and shoved it in my pocket. Nothing but glasses on. “And no shit there I was” in the middle of Iraq with no weapon. I was a walking target for UCMJ. Uniform Code of Military Justice. As I walked. A soldier I joke with all the time came behind me. He said “ I could have taken your life” I saw him waayyy before he walked beside me. But took my life. That drew tears. TAKE my life. My life ends. Bennett’s life ended. On earth anyway. It ended before May 13 2009. That was the day he seized to exist on this planet to me. That’s the day Bennett died. That’s the day I walked with my head down, hmph, but I wasn’t looking at my shadow.
I sit here and I am conflicted within myself. That’s the worst by the way. Arguing with the person who knows you best… You. It is May 14, 2009 here as of now I don’t know what I am going to title this. I know I want to reveal. That a once very close friend to me. His birth day was May 13th. I initially opened his Facebook profile to say “You are the luckiest, you got to come out of ya sexy mama’s vagina on this day… Let’s trade.” See Bennett’s mother is extremely beautiful. It was an inside joke with the athletes of Northwest. What I saw floored me that day, 1830 May 13 2009. I saw people wishing him a happy birthday, followed by R.I.P... For the record. That profile is still on my screen. I am not sure of when it happens, but I know how, and it makes me cherish life. A little more.
Why am I conflicted? I feel like I am trying to excuse myself for not knowing. There is no excuse. I am in Iraq, had I kept in touch, said hello. Didn’t wait till his birthday. Or holidays. Maybe I would have known. I know people live and die. But for a friend to die and you not know it. Wow, I can’t help but wonder if he is angry with me for not knowing. Not talking to him as much. But then again. He is Bennett the easiest going person in the world. Seriously…
Before every situation that molds me in my life happens. I have the weirdest feeling. I have millions of thoughts. I actually recorded them this time. I wrote over 6 blogs and A 12 chapter book in 2 days. I thought it was my way of purging. I thought finally, without writers block. My brain was bleeding. I let it. 20 years of suppressed emotion came out. After the massive headache, and the dead sleep. I felt so relieved I smiled all of May 12 2009. I had purged. And I had shared my story…
I felt like a horrible friend when I found this out. It took some of my friends from my past reminding me of good times. Fun times. How innocent youth was, and how taken for granted it was, but we did it and enjoyed it. How we were so silly, and mostly how Bennett and I were not the only people to fall out of touch… Touché friends… Touché
My career, as of now it keeps me out of touch. I was here when Bennett died. This is ultimately my 1st excuse in my book. I don’t have much to say in this paragraph. It’s my career. I enjoy it, but even the people who have their dream job. I.E. rappers, pro athletes. Even they have days when they hate their job. This is mine.
Nija told me in a comment on FB. I always had a way with words. Christian absorbs her in everything I write. Natalie said I have the gift of expression. My mother says I like MLK so much because like him I can move people. I can sway people. An ex called me manipulative in a good way. I didn’t know there was a thing. A fight instructor told me I should be a lawyer because I can destroy people with words. Anne Jones told me I was destined to be a man of god I used perfect analogies, and was born “bible based”. Leaders tell me I am a good leader, and I don’t even try to be. Friends say I liberate them. Natalie said I changed her. Christian, loves me.
I feel as if I have said enough. One day my stat read on facebook. If u looks down when you walk you are conceited. Someone asked me why I always looked down when I walked. I do. I look at my shadow though. So I was called conceited. But On May 14, 2009 I didn’t. I got out of my bed, and I needed air. I grabbed my hat and eye protection and I got up and walked. The stale, dusty air of Iraq was fresh that night. I looked down as I walked. My hands were in my pocket, I had taken off my hat and shoved it in my pocket. Nothing but glasses on. “And no shit there I was” in the middle of Iraq with no weapon. I was a walking target for UCMJ. Uniform Code of Military Justice. As I walked. A soldier I joke with all the time came behind me. He said “ I could have taken your life” I saw him waayyy before he walked beside me. But took my life. That drew tears. TAKE my life. My life ends. Bennett’s life ended. On earth anyway. It ended before May 13 2009. That was the day he seized to exist on this planet to me. That’s the day Bennett died. That’s the day I walked with my head down, hmph, but I wasn’t looking at my shadow.
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