#WordsofWednesday · Art · Life · Oakland · Poetry · Uncategorized

Chapters

Chapters

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Your Peace by Kenny Kore

 

The pages turn

Each new experience

Like a marker to denote that particular stage

The memories vary

Exploring you as a person

Pulling you here and there

Beyond range

Each feeling unique

Sometimes strange

They empower and build you

As you travel along with your map

On your journey of self

All along your own way

 

 

The wind blows

The pages flip

You hold on tight

Squinting

Trying to stick to the script

But life is a movie

And the credits roll as we go along

The curtains stay open

For those who are able to stand strong

No popcorn

For the weak

Like a flick in the box office

You’re trying to maintain a devastating streak

Trying to keep your mind afloat

And your dreams on fleek

 

 

Again you pick up the pen

Ready to write in another experience into memory

The who, what and the when

Your heart remembering what is unique to your story

Survival instincts to ensure that you

Are remembered now

And not as history

So we buckle down

Drenched in the storms of life

Riding the waves like sitting on a bike

This journey will batter and leave scars

Just remember to empower yourself and learn lessons

From each mark

 

New beginning

Different meaning

Same purpose

Pushing on from last year

Where you probably came really close

But how to do you navigate

Some mow through life

Like a GPS system

Trying to direct their lives

Navigation

But even the machine itself

Needs initial direction

So who’s road map are you following

And to what destination are you going

The new layout might be just as challenging

But keying to the source will give your story

New meaning

 

As we flip the page

A lick of the finger

The taste of paper

Symbloic to life’s experiences

Will linger

Be an avid reader

Gathering knowledge from others

As you write your next chapter

Your story is one for greatness

So be true to it

And rule your life

Like a royal highness

This is to you and the next phase

This is to empowerment as you run your own race

 

 

2014 is over and we usher 2015 in. I began to think as I wrote my resolutions and prayer requests., that I have seen things many inspiring and some I regret.

I do not believe in people who say they live their lives with no regrets. I feel like we all have some, albeit some have very few.

I believe every instance, regretful or otherwise, is a unique lesson.

 

Resolutions get me thinking. I love goals and I love being able to achieve them but I think about life and my experiences. I mean, I really think about them.
I truly weigh whether or not I have learned from them.

2014 came with a lot of challenges and it left some scars but each one has left a mark. In my heart and in my mind.
IT has been a chapter in my life, one that I will never forget easily.

The truth remains that 2015, like the year before it will be unique but I ask you to take the pen and hand it over to the source of the ink

Let him write and let him lead.

Here’s to a challenging 2014 and all the greatness in a glorious 2015!

My hope is that your fulfill greatness in the new year and come the end of 2015, we will all be here to celebrate together.

Learn, laugh and love in 2015.
Fill up the pages in your heart with great memories. Leave an indelible mark of love in the heart of every person you meet. That might just be a chapter in their life but it is infact a key component to your story.

 

What will your 2015 be like? 

What have you learned in 2014 and do you have any big plans in 2015? Comment and Let me know. 

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE AND SEE YOU NEXT YEAR! Well, on Saturday for Homeless 3 for  #SanmiSaturdays

 

Art · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Oakland · Poetry · Sex · Uncategorized

Homeless 2

Homeless 2

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Follow @adewus4real on  download
⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PRESS PLAY HERE BEFORE READING

Stay In Love ft. Ayoola by Tope Odu 

Darius and I walked out of the restaurant into the cold and dark night. We began to walk towards my car again.

“So tell me what happened Darius”

I asked with excitement and anxiousness in my voice. He smiled and said

“ I proposed”

I somehow felt pleased but immediately overcome with a sense of sadness due to my high expectancy for happiness.

“So what happened next?”

I asked.
The smile on his face disappeared and he became somewhat serious and said

“Things moved pretty quickly from that point. By the end of the year, we were about to get married. The wedding was set for the 24th of May if I remember correctly, if I remember correctly”

“Wow, that was quick, right?”

I asked as if to fact check what he had just told me. He shook his head as he said

“Once you know your partner is the one you want to be with forever. What is the point in waiting?
It just felt right. She was everything to me. There was no point waiting”

 

I nodded and the Darius took over.

I remember when I got my promotion at my job to the regional manager position at the Port of Oakland. The pay increase was great but the most rewarding feeling was in the look in her eyes that night. I derived so much pleasure and confidence in how she looked at me. She always made me feel like I was the greatest at everything I did just by how she looked at me. That was one of the hardest things to part with when things became hard. That look eventually disappeared.

But that night I told her about the promotion, I had told her to pick me up from my apartment. Funny how I regretted when we stopped to fill up for gas. Not because I didn’t want to ride in her car but because Kim has horrible taste in colors! Her car was hot pink!
We always stood out whenever we rode in her car but the night was just great, little things like that didn’t matter.

20141226_160951

It was about three months to our wedding.
We were having dinner at one of my favorites; a Thai place in this place called “Porto Moniz Grove”
She had gotten me hooked on the place. The noodles and the soup always took me back to when we first met. It was the go to place.

We had wrapped up our food. Filled to the brim, I leaned forward in my seat and said

“I have good news baby”

she looked around really quickly and said

“okay…. What is it?”

The words childishly coming out behind her smile, I smiled back as I started talking.

“I got promoted today.
To Regional Manager “

Her eyes grew big! Her smile was even bigger

“Oh my God baby! I’m so proud of you!
I knew you would always continue to grow. Come here!”

she motioned to me as I leaned in and she briefly got up from her seat to plant a kiss on my lips. She squeezed my cheeks and sat back down. She had that look in her eyes.
it’s not quite like the one a parent has when you make them proud, but it is very close and there it was again. She sat back in her seat and looked at me.
The look was now replaced with another one. A totally different one and I knew this one very well. I liked this one too. A lot!

She said

“You ready to get out of here?”

I knew what was going to come next. I nodded and then said

“Yes”

She pulled out the cash from her wallet and placed it on the table. It was enough for the meal and the tip. She signaled to me to get up. I had no choice but to obey her.
you didn’t want to mess with Kim when she was in that mood.
We got into the car and she began driving. I thought she was going to be driving to my house but about 5 minutes later, she pulled the car into this vineyard on the side of the road. The moon was lit and bright enough to see things with the naked eye.
She opened the sunroof and allowed the moonlight to illuminate the inside of the car. She turned towards me and without saying a single word, she unzipped my pants and that was it.

That was how we were. We understood each other. We were in sync with each other and we both wanted to spend the rest of our lives with each other.

Which is funny because we hated our wedding day.
Okay, maybe hate is too extreme of a word to use but it we didn’t like how the day panned out. It was a very stressful and demanding day. I come from a large family and Kim has a lot of siblings; six in total.
All older than her, so you can imagine how big that day was.
it was hot and we had decided to have it outside. Big mistake.
The food was good but I remember at one point, we looked over at each other during the reception and she said

“I know babe”

and then she kissed me.

See the kind of person I am, I enjoy seclusion probably a bit too much. I would much rather be inside my house with Kim all day just staring at her. So that day, was a me completely outside my comfort zone and I appreciated the way Kim acknowledged that.
The wedding was our day of union but I think it was just a showpiece for our families to celebrate and it wasn’t really bout us.

If wedding days were meant to be pointers to how a marriage should be, ours was the complete opposite. Our wedding sucked but our life together was amazing. I had never felt happier.
When God blessed our union with my first daughter Daisy, I was overjoyed.
I always found a way to leave the office early so I could go to the daycare and just watch Daisy interact with other kids at her daycare.
She was such a joy to behold and my life with her mother was just complete.
When she was about 1, I remember this vivid memory of Daisy and her love for the cartoon “Cailou”. She would come around the coffee table, bend down and grab the remote control. Straight to me, she would storm and place it on my lap while pointing to the television as if to tell me it was time to watch “Cailou”.
Her doing that always put a smile on my face no matter how hard whatever I was going through was and there was going to be a lot more coming soon; much that we weren’t ready for.

.     .     .     .       .

Sometimes we spend so much time defending ourselves from the usual suspects of life that we fail to notice when the unexpected hits and damages us.
You somehow expect in a marriage that infidelity, fights about money, lack of communication and such would be the deterrents to a happy relationship but they aren’t always the ones to watch out for.

For our second wedding anniversary, we had planned to go to Disneyland in Los Angeles. Kim had always wanted to go as a kid but her family were never really able to. So I planned the trip to have us go down to Disneyland as a family. We knew that Daisy wouldn’t be able to remember anything from the trip a few years down but truth be told, I think the inner kids inside us just wanted to have some fun too.

Four days before our trip, I had picked up Daisy from the daycare as usual.
We spent the evening together; playing, watching television and eating but she was not sleeping. Daisy had a specific time she would go to sleep each day. Give or take about 5 or 10 minutes, she would unfailingly fall asleep within that period of time.

That day was particularly harder. No tactic seemed to work. I read to her, sang to and with her. I even took her for a drive but she still didn’t sleep.
We returned home and I took out her toy kit and we played with some of her blocks while we had a separate tea party going on. I’m still not sure about what time it was but I remember waking up and noticing Daisy fast asleep on the floor next to her. Her head was in an uncomfortable position.
I smiled as I picked her up and headed to her room to place her in comfortably in her bed.
I had put her on her bed and I was fixing her blanket when I heard keys at the front door, Kim was home.

I started heading back to the living room when I heard a loud thud. I ran straight into the room and there lay Kim on her back, wincing in pain.
it looked like she had slipped. But she didn’t yell. I think it was because she had the presence of mind to not wake up Daisy.

“Are you okay, baby?”

I asked with concern laden in my voice.
She didn’t respond as she tried to get up

“Don’t move babe. Don’t move”

I rushed and picked up the phone to dial 911 while holding her hand. The ambulance arrived to pick her up and take her to the hospital. Kim’s cousin came over to be with Daisy through the night.
4 broken ribs, a punctured lung and internal bleeding was the verdict at the hospital. She would have to go under the knife very quickly to stop the bleeding.
The decision to go into surgery was the easiest part of the rest of our lives because it saved her life and gave us hope to believe in.
She would stay in the hospital for a few weeks under observation.

I played that night in my head over and over many times. Our entire lives had been affected in the most unexpected way. She tripped over one of Daisy’s toys and here we were fighting for her life and our marriage.

 

.       .     .       .       .

 

My All to You by Tajan

We never went Disneyland.
It was 8 months after the incident and Daisy was heading towards two years old. I pulled the car into the driveway; I stepped out of the car and pulled out her wheelchair from the trunk.
I helped her out of the car and into the chair, I wheeled her into the house. She had not seen the insides of the house in 2 months.
There had been some complications after the initial incident; none of it was the fault of the hospital before you begin to worry. It just happens sometimes.

She had now had 4 major surgeries and she had packed on a lot of weight because she was so bed ridden and not able to be active. I loved her the same but I could tell that it was starting to get to her.
I was working way less and feeling pressure from my bosses to be more present at the Port but my home needed me.
We had burned through our savings from procedure to procedure because if you know the system well, you will know that it is not everything that the insurance companies pay for.
So there we were. We had been hit.
Hard.
And by all accounts, it seemed like we were still standing but tougher tests were yet to come.
The lady I hired to transport Daisy from the daycare home now showed up. Daisy was talking to Kim while I was in the kitchen putting her food together. I emerged from the kitchen as Daisy danced her way to her room. She was happy to see her mummy home and I was glad to her home too.
I came in front of her and handed her a plate of vegetables; broccoli, cauliflower, carrots and some kiwis.

I could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t want to eat that. It was the nutritionist and the doctors had ordered to help regulate her sugar levels which had been fluctuating like crazy since the incident. She hated the change in her diet, so I change my diet too to be supportive. But I realize that it could be stressful.
She looked down at the plate and said

“I’m not eating that”

I looked at her with a puzzled look.

“What do you mean you’re not going to eat that babe?”

I asked. She repeated herself

“I said, I’m not eating that”

“But you need it to get better”

I replied as she looked at me. She was silent for a second and then under her breath, she said

“Maybe I’m tired of wanting to get better. I’m tired of waiting to get better”

The words hit my eardrums and angered me. How selfish could she be?!
We had a young marriage and an even younger daughter and she was talking about giving up?!

I think I might have raised my voice as I said

“You have no right to do that! That is so selfish!
We have a daughter for crying out loud!”

I had just finished talking as I noticed tears streaking down Kim’s face. She was looking up but not at me, she was looking past me to my left. I turned around and there she was.
I had never raised my voice at her.
Standing in the doorway was a confused and scared looking Daisy. She immediately turned around and with her tiny bowlegs she darted towards her room. I had made her mother cry.

My heart broke. Many times over

 

 

IMPORTANT NOTICE: In January, I will stop writing on #WhatTheHeckMan. I’m sorry but JUST KIDDING!!!! What I will like to do for the beginning of the year though is to do a “Behind The Writer” edition of my blog. Basically, I will spend that day answering questions all of you have for me. So PLEASE LEAVE YOUR QUESTIONS IN THE COMMENT SECTIONS BELOW. AS MANY AS 10 per person. I’ll pick the TOP 24 I like and answer them for you all in that piece! I’M DOING THIS SO ALL MY READERS,  SUPPORTERS AND WHOEVER ELSE IS LEFT CAN GET TO KNOW THE WRITER A BIT MORE AND UNKNOWN THINGS ABOUT ME.

ASK ANYTHING!!!!!

COMMENT!!! 

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for my part 3 next week. Name will be dropped on Wednesday.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WordsofWednesday · Drama · Life · Poetry · Sex · Uncategorized

In Terms of Love

In Terms Of Love

 

#WhatTheHeckMan Rants Christmas Edition by Adewus4real and F.M.S

There’s something about the bells

As they ring

The Christmas songs

Families’ sing

There is cheer around

And barely anyone with a frown

Eggnog and the sorrows drown

The mood is festive around the town

But no one really knows what I’m about

I’m sitting here while everyone feasts

But I’m that guy with nothing to eat

 

See I’m usually here

Well most of the year

Abandoned shortly after the New Year

People unintentionally forget about me

Until the month with 29 in the leap year

I’m hardly fed today

Everybody is happy

Merry

With their families they have gone away

But I try to keep my disappointment at bay

 

 

Truthfully

I beat like yours

Faster when I get nervous

Even worse when I’m anxious

There is so much to received but very little to given

The cards swipe

The coins clang

The wallets drain

But many are still in pain

I’m an empty heart

 

Today

I pray

That someone will come my way

Someone will actually stay

From sadness I try to refrain

But I swear

It’s only a matter of time

When the lights come down

That I’m filled with pain again

The cheer is superficial

The heaviness is residual

People are not truly happy

But everything is in red

And there is Jollof rice

So make merry

Sigh

 

 

Today the year comes to a close

When next I’ll feel this

I will not know

But for now

I’ll enjoy the Christmas glow

When we finally call each other

And sing a new carol

This is a happy time

But I know what comes after

And that makes me sad

Every time

 

 

It’s that time of the year again. When there is commercialized love. Everyone seems to be filled with smiles and happy thoughts. I want that to be it! Happiness all around! But we need to sustain the feelings.

We catch wind of what is happy for a few weeks and once the New Year rolls by, we all go back to our various hustles and forget the spreading of the love. People only remember the cheer and love because we eter the final two weeks of the year. Sad but true.

I’m keeping this short today. My #WordsOfWednesday to you is that you keep the love flowing at every opportunity you get. Go beyond the confines of “family” and spread and give love. TO EVERY AND ANYONE.

Reach out to those who have no one to share these festive days with and be present for them. You are a vessel of love. Let it flow through you always. Give always as the world will continue to replenish you.

 

Today I want to say, I love you all! Merry Christmas and know that if anything, you have one person who has real love for you out there; ME.

Merry Christmas #WhatTheHeckMan Family!!!!

 

PLEASE CONTINUE TO LEAVE YOUR QUESTIONS IN THE COMMENT SECTIONS BELOW. AS MANY AS 10 per person. I’ll pick the TOP 24 I like and answer them for you all in that piece!
I’M DOING THIS SO ALL MY READERS,  SUPPORTERS AND WHOEVER ELSE IS LEFT CAN GET TO KNOW THE WRITER A BIT MORE AND UNKNOWN THINGS ABOUT ME.

Art · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Oakland · Poetry · Sex · Uncategorized

Homeless

Homeless

Follow @adewus4real on  download
⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PRESS PLAY HERE BEFORE READING

Tell Me A Tale by Michael Kiwanuka

 

I was actually one of those people that left the office late. Way after anybody else with a life did. I was always in there working my head off trying to make something of myself.

I armed the alarm as I entered the door code. The code always seemed to make me laugh, it was “Lucy”. I always laughed because Lucy happened to be the only girlfriend I ever had that broke up with me. And she had done it because of my dedication to work and not having any time for her. Oh well.

I straightened my pea coat as I fixed my laptop bag that was strapped around my neck and headed into the cold of the night. It was a few minutes past 10pm.

 

Cooped up at my desk, I worked on report after report.

I think I sometimes had a fear of the outside world. How the world would view me. Or maybe it was just how my father would view me?

My father was a very difficult man to please. A great man in many ways but his lofty goals sometimes seemed unattainable. Since I moved here from Columbia, I have had to deal with culture shock but also a growing list of challenges. Being the first presents its unique challenges but being the son of a former Army general turned lucrative business man; it is expected in my culture that I turn out “perfect”.

To be a perfect example for all my siblings and the greatest role model to walk the face of the earth. All of this, as I doubled as the flag bearer for my family.

The pressure continued to weigh on me, so with my mother’s influence, I convinced my father to allow me to move to San Francisco. I was mandated to visit once a year and twice if, my schedule permitted.

Originally, I was going back home to Columbia twice a year. At least for the first few years but when I decided in my sophomore year of college to study journalism and not Economics, the trips became once a year at Christmas.

My father was understandably pissed but I needed to find myself.

I know he wanted me to take over his business in his retirement but it was not really what I wanted. Besides, he was still “young”, only in his mid fifties. He wasn’t letting go of control anytime soon.

I arrived at the sushi spot. It was this late night place; the only place open till 2am and the sushi was always great. I placed my order and sat in the corner of the room, at the end of the bench.

Fiddling with my phone, I finally got a chance to respond to text messages from the day as I tried to reconnect with my social life.

One of the hostesses walked up and asked me in a somewhat disrespectful tone,

“Did you say you wanted cream cheese?”

She asked. I looked up at her and forced a respectable smile and said,

“Yes, I do”

“You know it’s an extra $1.50, right?”

She chimed back. I took a deep breath and responded

“I know and yes, I’ll still like it in there”

I rolled my eyes as she turned away. The people in the restaurant didn’t always have the greatest customer service but something about that interaction seemed to annoy me.

I got my food shortly after and headed home. I was somewhat bothered about why she thought I couldn’t afford the cream cheese. At least that was what it sounded like.

But I guess that was also my biggest issue, I always worried about what people thought about me.

The food was good and sleep came shortly after. Something was off in my spirit though I couldn’t put my finger on it.

 

 

.       .       .         .         .

 The interaction from the night before with the lady at the sushi place was still weighing on my mind. I lay there staring at the wall clock and counting the ticks as my mind wandered.

Did she think I was a bum?

What had I actually achieved in life and more?

These were the thoughts that disturbed my morning.

See I always knew I was born to do something great.

But somehow I spent the majority of the last two years of my life looking for purpose. Trying to understand who I was, what I should be and my imprint on the earth. I had only started interning at this publishing house trying to gain experience for my perceived future as an author and journalist.

I was maintaining a blog and trying to grow it while attempting to save a rapidly flailing relationship. I could feel that I needed that big thing.

My current state made it impossible to give all of me to my partner and all she gave to me was justified complaints. She loved me so she hung on a little longer that she should have in truth but I just had nothing to give.

 

I had the day off from work and I decided to go and do my laundry. Cleaning seemed to be soothing for me.

I stopped by the coffee shop to get a drink and some change for the coin operated machine and then I headed for the Laundromat.

“James”

The lady called out over the counter. She pronounced it wrong, like almost everyone does.

My name is actually pronounced “Ha’mess”.

Funny but that was how I would always write it out for people to say it when I first moved to the States.

It would turn out to be a symbolic act in doing my laundry. That day, as I removed the dirt and life’s physical deposits off my clothing, my interaction with a man who man in life would consider “dirty”, gave me the purest inspiration and clarity on what life, love and its manifestation should be. I saw life through his eyes.

Through the eyes of a completely socially discarded man that had so much more to offer but the rest of the world was not paying attention because they perceived him as less but he and I had a lot more in common than our attires allowed us to realize.

 

I parked my car with the rear end facing the door. I stepped out and began to lift my clothes into the basket.

Carrying them into the building, I set them on the table and began sorting them.

I was about halfway through when a lady walked in and seemed like she was about to approach me. It was clear she was homeless. From her dirty clothes to her tattered shoes, she practically fit the bill as a homeless woman.

I continued to sort my clothes, colored from whites as I awaited her approach. It came shortly after as neared me and said,

“Hello sir, could you please give me $.65cents to catch the bus home”

I smiled and shook my head. Not in disgust but in attempt to tell her not to lie to me. I was going to give her the money anyways, her lying to me just made me uncomfortable.

There is a certain stereotype that all homeless people are drunks or addicts and that is all they would use the money for.

I bought into the notion that day as I dug into my wallet to give her the money. I expected her to immediately cross the street and head to the liquor store. As I gave her the money, I noticed that she glanced at the rest of the money sitting in my wallet. I looked up at her with the three dollars I had given her clutched in her hand and almost said “don’t be greedy”.

 

I turned around and continued sorting my clothes. True to my thoughts, the lady crosses the street and heads for the liquor store. I shook my head in sadness and turned my head down.

A few minutes later, she emerges with a jug of milk. My sadness quickly turned to regret as I had wrongly judged this woman. I tried to shake it off but I couldn’t. I watched her cross the street to a bus stop and she sat next to a man.

Something in my heart continued to pick at me and I eventually took out the five dollar note in my wallet and walked out there. I handed it to the man and he thanked me as I walked away. It felt good to have followed my heart and done something good.

All my clothes were now in the washer as I headed to the back of the building to get into my car. I was about to enter when I heard a man say,

“Excuse me. Excuse me”

I turned around to look at him. It was the man I had just given the money to. I thought he had come to complain again or something. I was wrong. He said,

“Thank you for the money but I have a question. How did you know that I needed it?”

I smiled and said,

“I didn’t know you needed it. Something in my heart just pushed me to do it and so I did. I’m glad I was able to help.”

He looked down at the money and began to tear up.

“Able to help?”

He said as he fought back tears,

“You just gave us our dinner and breakfast tomorrow. Initially the money you gave us was only enough for my friend and I to buy some milk. We were going to beg for the rest to get some cereal. Thank you.”

I was now the one trying to fight back tears. I was so moved. I did not know that my simple obedience to my heart was a blessing to someone else.

In that moment I knew I had to do more as I said,

“You’re welcome and I’m glad I was able to help”

I just felt my interaction with this man was not complete until I said,

“Would you guys mind if I bought you a hot meal for dinner?”

The man’s eyes grew big. He definitely was not expecting it.

He agreed and rushed back to inform the lady he was with. He returned alone and ready to go. I asked about the woman and he told me that she was going to head to the shelter they were going to spend the night at to secure good beds for them.

It made sense with the plan being that he would bring back some food for her.

So into my car he went.

 

His clothes were dingy and dirty but not smelly. He looked like he hadn’t showered in days but his teeth were pearly white; well taken care of.

I began to get the vibe that this man was not the “average” homeless guy.

He said nothing as he sobbed in the passenger’s seat as I drove to a local Chinese restaurant. The plan was to order a lot of rice to last them a while.

I navigated the uncomfortable silence by playing music. I believe.

 

 

Just Want To Say Thank You by Louis Baker ft. Jordan Rakei

Was playing. I just wanted to get there as quickly as possible because I didn’t know what to say.

I was not afraid of having him in my car but I was worried about not being able to be emotionally available for him.

We arrived at the restaurant and he wiped his face. We sat down after we ordered and waited for the food. I looked over to him and he said,

“I’m sorry I was crying”

I responded,

“It’s okay. We all have moments where we need to”

He nodded and said,

“I was crying because I wondered if there were people like you around the world being nice to my kids like you are to me”

My heart strings tugged. I almost cried I tell you.

Those were words so sincere but they also made me a bit sad. 

“What is your name sir? I never asked”

I said.

“Darius. My name is Darius”

I then replied,

“Darius, you have children?”

He looked up at me and I quickly caught a glimpse of his eyes filled with tears. He bowed his head again and replied,

“Yes I do, I have two daughters.”

I almost lost it. Believe me.

All I had experienced in Columbia and my struggle with my dad, living on my own in a foreign country. I thought it had all made me stronger but I realized that it hadn’t. Moments like this made me feel so human on the inside.

I had my own emotional walls built up but the thought of two girls being homeless drove me to brink.

I gathered myself and said,

“Are they homeless too?”

He shook his head with assurance and confidence as he said,

“No no no! Never.

They are well taken care of. They live with their mother and grandmother… Doing just fine”

I let out a sigh of relief as he completed his sentence.

Not that his being homeless was anything to be relieved about but I felt some comfort in knowing his daughters were taken care of.

And then I asked the question that would open the doors to so much more and allow me to see a different world of life. I said,

“Darius, how did you become homeless and how long have you been homeless for?”

He looked at me and sighed. It was loud and loaded with such emotion and sadness.

He cleared his throat and sniffled a bit before saying,

“A little over eight months and these have been the worst months of my life. I lost everything!”

“Gambling? Addiction? Death?

What caused it?”

I asked in concern. He turned and said,

“Do you have enough time to hear it all?”

I nodded and said

“As long as you want, sir”

He said okay and then he started.

This is his story and it then becomes my story.

 

 

.       .         .       .         .

 My name as you already know is Darius.

My wife was by far the most beautiful woman I had ever set my eyes on. She was beautiful in so many ways.

She inspired me and pushed me to be a better man each day. Her name is Kim.

I remember when I first got my last job.

I was working at a sports complex as a manager at the time of the offer, handling all the day to day operations but I never really wanted to leave.

I was making “okay” money and taking care of my responsibilities and saving up for a wedding.

When the job offer came, the first person I called was Kim.

I told her about it while underselling it so she wouldn’t make me explore it further.

 

But there was something about Kim. She had a way about her. She just somehow knew that I was underselling the job. She stopped me dead in my tracks and said,

“Darius, take the job. You have so much potential and deserve an opportunity to grow. Take the job and stop making excuses.”

There was nothing left to say at that point. The training for the new managerial position at the port of Oakland was tough but I continued to go with her support and love.

The weekend after my training was done. We took a trip to a little town about three hours away from where we lived. That trip would change my life even more than homelessness has.

 

We arrived and checked into our hotel. Took a short nap and then headed out to dinner.

I had made reservations at a place called “The Red House”. It had some of the finest Italian dishes I have ever seen.

The night was going well and we were enjoying ourselves and laughing. Till today, I think that was our best date ever.

It was nearing the end of the night and our food had finished when I reached into my pocket and said

“Kim”

She smiled and said,

“Yes baby?”

Her beautiful smile lighting up the room; I said as I reached into my pocket.

 

“Kim, you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me…”

I flashed a puzzled look at Darius as he had stopped talking. Following his eyes, I turned to my right and noticed the hostess holding the Chinese food we had just ordered. I collected the bag from her and gave her my card. I set the bag down between Darius and I.

I smiled at Darius and said,

“Please continue”

He was about to start up again when the lady returned with my card and again interrupted us. I took it from her and turned to Darius as I said with a smile,

“WhatTheHeckMan”

 

IMPORTANT NOTICE: In January, I will stop writing on #WhatTheHeckMan. I’m sorry but JUST KIDDING!!!! What I will like to do for the beginning of the year though is to do a “Behind The Writer” edition of my blog. Basically, I will spend that day answering questions all of you have for me. So PLEASE LEAVE YOUR QUESTIONS IN THE COMMENT SECTIONS BELOW. AS MANY AS 10 per person. I’ll pick the TOP 24 I like and answer them for you all in that piece! I’M DOING THIS SO ALL MY READERS,  SUPPORTERS AND WHOEVER ELSE IS LEFT CAN GET TO KNOW THE WRITER A BIT MORE AND UNKNOWN THINGS ABOUT ME.

ASK ANYTHING!!!!!

I LOOK FORWARD TO IT!!!!!!!!!!

COMMENT!!! 

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for my new series next week. Name will be dropped on Wednesday.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WordsofWednesday · Art · Life · Poetry · Uncategorized

Damaged Goods

Damaged Goods

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Follow @adewus4real on  download
⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PRESS PLAY HERE BEFORE READING

The One That Never Comes by Asa

 

IMPORTANT NOTICE: In January, I will stop writing on #WhatTheHeckMan. I’m sorry but JUST KIDDING!!!! What I will like to do for the beginning of the year though is to do a “Behind The Writer” edition of my blog. Basically, I will spend that day answering questions all of you have for me. So PLEASE LEAVE YOUR QUESTIONS IN THE COMMENT SECTIONS BELOW. AS MANY AS 10 per person. I’ll pick the TOP 24 I like and answer them for you all in that piece! I’M DOING THIS SO ALL MY READERS,  SUPPORTERS AND WHOEVER ELSE IS LEFT CAN GET TO KNOW THE WRITER A BIT MORE AND UNKNOWN THINGS ABOUT ME.

ASK ANYTHING!!!!!

I LOOK FORWARD TO IT!!!!!!!!!! Now here is Damaged Goods

 

I never realized my pain

Till one Friday in fourth grade

I must have just turned eight

Sitting alone in the corner

I felt might friends could not relate

My mother had called the night before

Telling me she wasn’t coming home for Christmas

The ticket was too high to afford

So I showed up to school

Acted like I wasn’t fazed

Everything was cool

My friends even invited me out to the pool

I sighed inside

I was already drowning in one with my emotions with no lifeguard in sight

 

I’ve been in the same job for 3 years

I could go

Leave

Push myself and look for self increase

But I’ve been comfortable

I hate change

I hate variables

Let me stay here

I’m in control of the situation

No outside threats from anywhere

My fears are magnified

The continue to leave me impaired

Like a car in neutral

I can move but really not go anywhere

She just stormed off

Because I asked her not to take the brakes off

Slowing in down

I just wanted to hide in the shadows

Somewhere beneath the clouds

My insecurities scarred me

Made it hard for me to understand why anyone would love me

My mommy hadn’t been there to protect me

She was out working hard to give us money

To give us a better life and opportunity

But forgetting that this side of me was the most important story

 

Blame

Shame

Self doubt

I’ve been involved in many mind games

I’ve spent many nights in search of fame

Planning how to make it big

So each and every one of you can remember my name

Thinking maybe when you all start to clap for me

It will all feel normal

Somewhat sane again

 

I gave her all of me

My virginity

My Honesty

For her I honed and worked on my integrity

But she left me with no warning for the big city

It broke me

From the darkest parts of me

It invoked me

And then I went into hiding

Behind the great Wall of promiscuity

And uncertainty

Never giving enough of me

For anyone to think they had me

 

New Series will be called “My Eyes” or “Perception”

 

Friends tried to get me to come along

But I was there for so long

I caught feelings for the wrong one

And treated me like I was the only one

Her name was sorrow

Honest and quiet

She let me know that she wasn’t there to borrow

Told me I was great

But I shouldn’t make plans for tomorrow

She told me the search for happiness was futile

Something like a pointless furrow

She hosted a party in my chest

She invited all her friends

Depression, anxiety and fear

Body image issues couldn’t attend

So she sent suicidal ideation instead

They ate everything

Leaving me naked and vulnerable in my stead

 

This has been my journey

My story

So please don’t tell me you love me

I’m broken

Not ready

I don’t know what to do with being happy

Its so alien in the depths of me

I’m tired so fucking tired of fighting

Who ever wants to be patient with me

Hold it down for me

Even when I push and tantrum out like a teething baby

Forgive me

I have a history

Dark and scary

Its truly hard to understand me

But I’m resigned to slowly moving along

Some day I might get it right

Barely

But for now

Gently place me back in my box

I’m clearly damaged

So end me back to the factory

Call customer service

Hopefully you can get a refund

Cos I’m damaged goods

And I obviously belong to no one

 

DO NOT FORGET TO LEAVE YOUR QUESTIONS IN THE COMMENT BOX BELOW 

Repeatedly and effortlessly, we allow adversity and insecurity to weigh us down. Trying to strike a balance between life and self worth. We sometimes conclude that we are worthless, empty and void.

I wrote Damaged Goods because I connected to the pain of those that feel empty. Unlovable. Alone. Tired.

Certain situations in my life have contributed to the notion I carried in my head that nobody could love me. I was severely bullied as a kid. Grew up with a huge inferiority complex as I hated myself and became puzzled as people attempted to shower me with love.

I allowed it to become part of my internal working model, that I was damaged goods. No matter how shiny or presentable I was, I would soon be found out as “not good” enough and discarded.
Boy was I wrong. And today I want to speak to those of you that feel that way.

Life has no return policy for situations and tests it puts us through. But we have a right to not let those situations make us feel like we are damaged goods.People will lie, depression might come but I have this belief that no matter how hard it is, as long as the sun rises the next day, there is a chance that it will be alright.

So forgive those that have hurt you or wronged you. And find love in you, the true you. Not the made up one or the “fluffy” one you have up for social media. Fall in love with you. Flaws and all.

Remember your first car or phone; it usually had one distinct defect. Either a dent or scratch or a part of the screen that was scratched but we loved it. In our eyes, it was perfect.

Fall in love with yourself like that again. And take it from me, you are beautiful and special in your own way. I hope you see it. And you throw your receipts of pain away.

 

COMMENT!!! 

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for my new series next week. Name will be dropped on Wednesday.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

Art · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Poetry · Sex · Uncategorized

Fallen Heights 4

Fallen Heights 4

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⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PRESS PLAY HERE BEFORE READING

Dead Again by Asa 

It all felt like a dream.

I felt like I was staring down the wrong man. I felt like I was in the wrong place.

I must have been dreaming, I thought to myself.

My Pastor?

He just stared at me, as the shock all over my face was impossible to hide. I couldn’t muster the words to speak. This was the Pastor I had just seen in church a few hours ago!

Here he was looking at me expecting me to perform sexual acts on him. I just sat there; speechless.

He smiled and didn’t say my name; all he did was pull his zipper down. I knew what it meant. I gathered myself and tried to imagine him as any other client.

With each moan, I felt something deep inside me die a painful death. I almost wished I could stab him with an ice pick.

This man was a disgrace to everything but who was I to judge him?

After all, I was part of the same worship team at the church and here I was. But this was a married man with a spiritual flock of children to lead towards holiness.

I began to see the world for what it was on a different level.

All the things I went through growing up with my mother were hard and I always assumed that it was just how things were supposed to go but this, this made me terrified of humanity.

This same man would stand in front of a congregation the same weekend and preach to the people. A liar. A total liar.

 

But I continued to suck. Nibbling and sucking harder than I normally would, I wanted him to just cum so I could get out of there.

I was sucking hard and he neared his climax. I was not going to allow any of his seed in my mouth. Somehow that just felt like a graduated level of stooping low.

I rolled his balls in my hand as he neared and then I pulled my lips off him as he ejaculated all over his pants. He seemed angry that I didn’t catch it all in my mouth. I pulled the door open and bolted out of the car. I didn’t run.

This time I was too shocked at what had happened to run.

I heard the door slam behind me and then his car drove past me into the night. I could not believe it.

I sat down at a table a Denny’s restaurant open 24hrs and just tried to replay all that I had seen in the last few days.

 

.       .       .           .         .           .

 I had ordered some food at the Denny’s but I couldn’t eat it.

I had stayed there till sunrise. When I got home, I snuck into my room and lay down on my bed.

I never felt so dirty in my life. I could not believe how much I hated myself.

Not because I followed through with it but because there was not a second while he got in the car where I considered stopping.

I kept replaying it back in my head. This was supposed to be the father of our church; the leader of the flock. I just couldn’t understand all that had happened and how I had allowed myself to be involved in that.

I could have gotten out of the car but I didn’t. I could have confronted him but I didn’t. More than anything I felt like I had fallen so far beyond morals.

Why was the pastor on the street at that time of the night and in that neighborhood?

 

Nothing was making any sense but I was old enough to know that I couldn’t say anything especially since I was the “hooker” girl in the town and he was the revered man of God in the town. I was trying to navigate all of the last 12 hours in my mind. I was trying to make some sense of everything.

I was so tired.

My mind was replaying everything. Somehow I kept going back to my phone call with Ms. Lecia the night before. Why didn’t she come to get me?

I suddenly felt like I couldn’t trust her. I knew what Ms. Lecia was capable of.

Over the years, I had seen it first hand. Girls suddenly being moved, losing their government services, out on the street. I knew that if I went up against her over this issue, I could end up on the losing side.

 

I was stepping out of the shower when Ms. Lecia knocked and let herself in before I got a chance to respond. She walked in as I stood there in my towel and water dripped down my face.

I was looking at her as she sat down on my bed and said,

“Jade darling, how are you?”

I felt her words tickle down my spine. I swallowed hard and said,

“I’m fine Ms. Lecia”

 “How was last night?”

she asked as she scanned the room.

“It worked out”

she smiled and said,

“So you have something for me?”

 “Yes ma’am. It’s in the bag”

I pointed to my bag sitting on the table. She got up and walked up to it. Picking it up, she unzipped it and began to fish inside for the money. I stood there frozen as my body air-dried.

She pulled out the bundle of money I had placed in there. I made no money the night before. The Pastor hadn’t paid anything and I was too nervous to ask.

I had placed some of my money there. My stash had taken a significant hit but at least she was getting her money.

 

She turned around and said,

“Aren’t you going to put your clothes on?”

I moved and headed for my closet. I had my back turned to her as she counted the money and then I heard her say,

“So, anything interesting happen after I spoke to you last night? Anything noteworthy?”

I knew exactly what she was talking about but I didn’t turn around as I tried to put on a flat affect. I slowly turned around and said,

“No ma’am”

I turned back around as I heard her inch closer towards me. A few seconds later, she was breathing down my neck behind me. I tried to steady myself and then she said,

“That’s good and let’s keep it that way. You know Jade, sometimes interesting things happen to people and they feel the need to share and then it can hurt them. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, right?”

 

I nodded. But I knew it was a direct threat.

I knew exactly what she meant. It was a “rock the boat and I’ll pull the rug out from under your feet” threat.

The Pastor had obviously spoken to her and it was clear to me that if our interaction ever came to light, I was going to be the fall person. Ms.Lecia was going to protect herself and the Pastor.

In those short sentences she uttered, it was clear to me that in everything she did, I was always collateral damage and sacrificing me was always possible to her.

She would do it in a heartbeat.

“You’re going to church tomorrow right?

I need you to give some money to the Pastor. Tell him it’s a donation to the church building fund”

 

I said okay.

She rubbed my back and walked out of the room. I knew in that moment that I had to get out and I had to get out fast!

I put my clothes on. Reached for the rest of the money in my stash.

A few clothes together and my computer in my backpack and then I waited.

 

About an hour later, I heard her leaving the house. I rushed out the door and headed down the stairs. I went by the dining table and there was an envelope addressed to the Pastor. I picked it up and rushed into my car.

My next stop was a coffee shop about 15 minutes away from the house. I needed to talk to someone. And I knew just the person.

It was about an hour later when I had finished writing one of the longest emails I had written in a while. It was addressed to my therapist. I had been banking on her confidentiality.

Most importantly, I was banking on forcing her to break her confidentiality. I had detailed all the events of the last two days to her and in there, the final few lines in my message forced her to break her professional silence. It read,

“…… I have always teetered between what was right and would keep a roof over my head but with the events of the last 24 hours and my conversation with Ms.Lecia this morning, I am fearful for my life and my safety. I don’t know what she is capable of at the moment but I am also not hoping to have to find out the hard way. I don’t feel safe in her home, so I am leaving.”

 

I closed my laptop. My hope was that with everything I had told my therapist over time, she would talk to the police who would put out a protective detail for me and force the social services department to protect me.

My drive to the hotel I would lodge in was short. About 30 minutes later, I was settling into my room. I had some candles on the shelf and I bought a ton of alcohol.

I needed to alter my state and I needed sleep. The first glass was Hennessey and Apple Juice with Gatorade. I felt the first kick.

And then I looked at the time, it was a little after 5pm. I wouldn’t wake up till the morning.

 

.       .       .         .         .

Life by Efya

 My plan had backfired. It blew up way more than I had ever intended.

Overwhelm was on another level.

I had spent the entire day trying to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening.

I could not breathe.

Wherever I turned seemed to have my face on the screen.

My cry for help had set in motion a thorough examination of the system from Ms. Lecia to all the other foster homes in the area.

Everyone was being looked at, Ms. Lecia was being paraded on the television as she was arrested and the home was closed. The Pastor was also taken into custody while there were scenes of protests outside the church with people calling for it to be shut down.

One news station said that my case could potentially render many girls homeless as they began to explore their placement arrangements. Girls would be pulled from homes that they felt were not providing the most care.

I never intended for any of this. I truly just needed their support and a safe place to live. I was still trying to figure out how I got to this scary and lonely place.

My Facebook and twitter pages were flooded with hate. People called me names and compared me to the scum of the earth. I somehow felt like I was in a fish bowl and everyone was looking in on me.

I could feel the walls closing in on me.

There was no one to turn to.

Zoey had sent me this nasty text message that really got to me.

I tried to shake it off but it really got to me. I know she said it because she was hurt by the developments but her words really cut. I began to question all of me.

All my life, I had searched for my identity. For someone to love me completely and now, this life I had, however messed up was the closest thing I had to that.

And now it was being taken away from me.

In secret, my life had been difficult, people had turned me down and I had no one but the hope of a sister in another home, the hope that one day we would be reunited.

Life had dealt me a difficult hand after the other but I tried to remain strong but there was only so much more I could hold out for.

There was not a single place that wasn’t talking about the social services scandal that I had uncovered. Every thing was magnified.

They had my tweets online, some of my friends from school gave interviews about me. There were speculations about my person and everyone seemed to have an opinion.

No one was talking about the real me. The loving side of me or the resilient side of me, the fighter in me. Nothing of that sort was discussed.

I slowly watched any hope of me building a life in my community vanish. But there was something in me that continued to believe that it would pass. So I tried to stay strong.

 

I was staying in a hotel on the outskirts of town, somewhat away from all the media coverage around the house. I had returned from a walk where I had cried my eyes with no answers to all my problems.

I walked into the Buffalo Wild Wings restaurant to pick up some food. I was sitting on the couches at the front of the restaurant scrolling through my phone when a family walked in. The daughter looked at me while her family waited to be seated. She kept glancing over at me like she recognized me from somewhere and then right when they returned to call them to be seated, she looked at me in the face and pointed at the television as she said,

“I know you. You’re the girl on the T.V”

I turned around and true to it, there I was. In full high definition, my face graced the cover of the community’s resource for gossip and empty digest. I looked back at the girl with my face flushed with regret. She didn’t know exactly why I was on there; she couldn’t have, as she didn’t seem more than 7 years old.

But I knew and her mother knew as she shielded her away from me. I felt my heart crumble into tiny little pieces. This was not what I deserved.

A part of me died in that moment. The walk back to my hotel was the longest ever.

I knew I had given up. I just had nothing left to give.

I had lost my appetite for the chicken wings I bought and more importantly, I had lost my appetite for life.

For whatever reason, that interaction with the girl had gotten to me. It had cut deeper. I think in her innocent eyes, I felt myself as part of the evil in the world. Stories like mine would affect her. And then all I could think of was my younger sister, how could I ever face her again?

How could I ever try to tell her what was right from wrong?

I couldn’t take it anymore. My heart was racing. My head was pounding.

I could feel the cold hitting the back of my ears. My stomach was in knots.

My knees wobbled.

My palms became sweaty.

My gulps became harder. My breathing became shorter.

My eyes began to water. The tears began to flow.

I stopped right at the overpass. Looking down as cars disappeared, I pictured every hope I had of a normal future vanishing. Suddenly I was filled with rage, towards my mother and towards God. I knew what I was about to do was not right but why was he allowed to put me through all this?

It was often said that he only tested you with that which he felt you could handle but this was too much. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair.

The hand I was dealt wasn’t fair.

The tears began to flood my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted it all to be over. I placed the food down and climbed on the ledge.

My mind flashed back to 72 hours ago when this particular chain of events started and I reached for my phone. I typed out the message to my sister;

“No matter what, remember I love you. You are everything and so much more. I love you and I’m sorry”

I dropped the phone over the ledge and heard it smash on to the ground. And then I let go.

The lights went out shortly after.

The End

To some it can seem somewhat unfair that Jade eventually paid with her life after everything she had been through. In a way, I wrote this story to give credit to those that life deals the hardesr hands but try each day to make the best out of it.
There are many people like Jade out there, backs against the wall and having to do whatever possible to just stay afloat. Be thankful for your journey but also take it as a lesson to appreciate that of others. There will be Ms Lecia’s trying to use you and people like the “Pastor”, publicly screaming for your success but secretly only another tool to pull you down.

This story highlights resilience, determination, pain, struggles, hopelessness and above all, it shows that no matter what it is you build up, it can all crumble quickly so try to live right.

Jade might have jumped but you dont have to. Reach out to someone who loves you and together, reach for greater heights.

COMMENT!!! 

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for my new series next week. Name will be dropped on Wednesday.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WordsofWednesday · Art · Fiction · Life · Poetry · Uncategorized

Jealousy

Jealousy

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Subway by Asa

 

Meeting her

All I could do was stare at her

It was a Saturday

And my friends had forced me to go out that day

I just wanted to stay in and play video games

And then I saw you walk along the way

I started to come and say hi

But many men swarmed you

So many other eyes

You smiled and greeted

My confidence slowly depleted

And then I began to compare

What made them better than me?

Taking the risk to step up to you and get turned down

Was one so huge I couldn’t bare

 

Making night rounds

I “stumble” on to his page

I know I shouldn’t go through

But I’m already here and I can’t help it

So what would you have me do?

Refresh

Give me a second

Let me catch my breath

I’m scrolling down his timeline while I clutch my chest

Who is this bitch with her boobs hanging out her shirt?

Favorite tweet one

Retweet tweet two

Subtle signs to let him know that he should only be tweeting about you

I could ignore

 

When we argue

I wonder who he’s talking to

I hope it’s not one of those

One of those that won’t leave him alone

They swarm

And try to stay under the radar

Like camouflaged drones

Blending in the shawdows

The have it drawn

Their bows and arrows

But the attention you give them only brings me sorrow

I’m jealous

But I swear

You would never know

 

I don’t want to watch them talk to you

But I gotta play it cool

I can’t be all sweaty on my palms while hanging with my crew

I have to be honest when I say this

All I want is you

But you’re out there and what can a brother do

I hate your Instagram page

The comments are nice

But they feel like needles thru my viens

Painful

Knowing others see your beauty can be stressful

I want to be the only one that tells you

 

 

Twisted

I twisted

Am I twisted?

I turned and sat up in bed

Thoughts of you running crazily through my head

What if you’re with another man

Truly then I’d rather be dead

I’m shaking at the thought of losing you

If you weren’t mine

What would I do?

There is so much I want to do

Such heights I want to attain with you

But I can’t fathom how to be vulnerable enough to let you know

That I don’t want to be without you

 

 

She just started a new job at the law firm

I’m proud of her

I truly am

But there s something within me

That makes me want to scream

I’m better than

Than her

Somehow I feel like I’m in the shadow from afar

And then resentment begins to set in

Going out with her becomes a thing I’m dreading

They said pray for your own

Do some fasting

But nobody ever said

I would feel like the one who always has to be in the back seat

 

It comes into you and eats

Jealousy creeps in and defeats

Fight it

Stand tall

Stay on your feet

The battle should be within

To be the best person you can be

Because the truth of the matter is

There is someone out there hoping to be you

And have what you have

So I say to you

Be content with what you have indeed

Don’t succumb greed

Jealousy only comes to defeat

Life should encourage you

Not force you to always want to compete

 

 

Over the last few weeks, I have been reevaluating the definition of this thing called love.

The same love will force you to move mountains for someone but could also have you heartbroken and in tears because you love someone and they don’t love you.

I have wondered about the strength of the word love.

Personally, I feel like our generation has not grasped the true meaning of it.

 

“Love is selfless”

 

Selfless in what sense, you ask?

Selfless in the sense that it can fend off so much from hurt to insecurities to life to pain. Today we allow love to be replaced by so many other unappealing emotions.

That’s how things like jealousy arise. You begin to find men and women who cannot stand or appreciate each other and would do anything to pull the other down because they do not truly love them

 

Loving selflessly is important. It is “okay” to feel a pinch when your friend gets a job you wanted but it should immediately be replaced with love.

Love in wanting the best for them.

Love in seeing their growth and letting it inspire you. As opposed to filling you with disgust, resentment and anger.

 

I had a friend this past summer, be put in a situation where he did not realize the truth about how he felt about me, would come out.

In hanging out, with some girlfriends of ours, he got upset about something and basically said he thought I was always putting him down because “Sanmi gets all the girls”

Everyone around was shocked and I was hugely disappointed because I have always had mad love and respect for the dude. It took me aback and led me to not trust him and most people.

 

I had the MOST HONEST AND OPEN conversation I have ever had with my mother a few days ago where she talked about what true love means.

Loving someone so much more than you love yourself.

Being willing to go through it all for their happiness.

Never letting your heart be consumed by anything but love. I wrote specifically about jealousy today but that is only one form of how a lack of pure and true love for another manifests itself.

 

I have friends and people I admire and aspire to be like but I never allow it to become jealousy. Never.

The feelings may start to creep in but it is your job to shut it out SUPER EARLY.

Never let yourself become envious or jealous of your brother/sister, be it about their relationships, jobs, belongings and even physical state.

Instead let what they have inspire you to be better always.

Today, I challenge you to love selflessly. Be happy for the people around you. Let lifting them up be your way of lifting yourself up.

Tonight, pick up the phone and pray for someone you love. Tell them you love them. Keep your heart pure from “unclean” thoughts.

Jealousy is only one way a lack of love shows. True love only has one way of showing itself. It grows.

 

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The End

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Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for part 4 of Fallen Heights; this Saturday.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

Art · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Poetry · Sex · Uncategorized

Fallen Heights 3

Fallen Heights 3

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 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PRESS PLAY HERE BEFORE READING

Her Past by Mar 

A couple hours later practice was over.

The way people always fled the church once we were done was actually fascinating to watch. I sat in the back just trying to compose myself.

I had just spent the last two hours belting out gospel tune after the other and trying to sell a perception of myself that I didn’t believe in.

I knew I had a good heart but I wasn’t a holy person.

I should have never been on that stage let alone leading them in worship. I would repeatedly feel sick to my stomach as I thought about all the things I had done.

But I would remind myself that I was hoping to get out soon enough; that I was a good person deep down and then.

 

I was busy booking the Uber ride when I heard my name. I looked up and the saw the Pastor of the church walking towards me.

I immediately remembered Ms Lecia’s tithe that I was meant to pay into the church’s coffers. I had almost left without doing it.

The Pastor walked up to me and sat next to me.

 

“Jade, my dear, how are you?”

 

he said.

 

I bowed my head in a mixture of shame and respect as he spoke.

 

“You have not been coming to church lately. What has been going on with you?”

 

he continued.

 

“I’ve just been really busy with work and school sir.”

 

I responded quietly.

 

He looked at me and smiled,

 

“You cannot be too busy for God”

 

he said and then continued on,

 

“God has a purpose for you. Everyday you are out in the world sinning, you diminish his plans for you. You have a light on you and a gift of a beautiful voice. You are meant to use it to glorify him not the world.

I heard from MsLecia that you’re sometimes out late and keeping questionable friends. That should not be heard of with a child of God. You need to decide on who you want to represent; God or the world. The world will only give you fleeting attention and lead you to sin. The wages of sin is death.

You need to live a life closer to God my dear.”

 

He turned and looked at me as I forced a smile and thanked him for his words. I truly felt empty.

 

.     .     .       .     .

 There was something about the ride. It was smooth but my heart continued to jump off the walls. I desperately wanted to make it stop but I could hear the words of the pastor playing over and over like a Vine looped without someone to stop it.

I just wanted to feel like I didn’t deserve all that but I knew I did.

There were no excuses to be made and I couldn’t conjure valid rebuttals. The truth was that I needed to get my life right and that meant getting out. I was thinking about it all and I just imagined my mother and all she went through for me to have a good life.

No matter what my mother went through, I always felt comforted by the fact that she had my best interests at heart. Even when she was selling drugs. I think that might have been what caused me to continue to tell myself that what Ms. Lecia was having me do was okay.

I knew it was wrong and I was getting tired of it but I had no way out.

 

Ms. Lecia and the pastor are siblings. Well half siblings.

They grew up together for years after their parents who had them separately got married. They divorced again but the kids Ms. Lecia and Pastor Clark stayed in contact.

Ms. Lecia was well known in the neighborhood. She was the last stop for girls that no one else in the system would take. So if you left her house without being adopted out or getting your own place, you were most likely going to end up on the street.

I was not going to let that happen to me. I was not going to be my mother.

I was not going to struggle with the same things she did but my means of security had to change. Being trapped by staying with Ms. Lecia was not healthy.

I still never understood why she had us doing that kind of work but I had heard from one of the girls that she had been assaulted in college and she basically was too traumatized to continue that eventually she dropped out and disappeared for two years.

She returned to the neighborhood she grew up in and has lived there since. She was said to be a different woman from when they last saw her.

Colder and more focused on her growth as a woman.

She got into various ventures and began to make a name for herself as a businesswoman.

For whatever reason, a lot of people were fearful of Ms. Lecia. Not many people wanted to approach her and even when she attended council meetings, what she said would go.

I realized later that she used us, the girls, as a way to control the city. She sent us to various men who we could then bring down if we chose to. That way she had them in her pocket, a lot of men in her pockets.

That was one of the things that scared me about quitting and running away. I always felt like I was trapped in a horribly negotiated contract. I was thankful to Ms, Lecia for taking me in but I was beginning to think about being more for sister and just for myself but what was I going to do.

 

.     .       .       .       .

The Uber driver David told me that I had arrived at my destination. It was an Old Victorian home that was very well lit in front. I thanked the driver as I shook the heaviness out of my heart and headed towards the house.

Up the stairs I began to wonder what the client would be like. I know I was doing something wrong but I still said a prayer before I walked into every space asking God to protect me.

I arrived at the door and I slowly opened it up.

The house was very tidy. Everything looked like it had its place and would seem completely off if moved around.

I had been told to head straight into the bedroom and wait for him. This was meant to be a short transaction. Give him what he was paying for and leave once he fell asleep.

I walked up the stairs inside the house. I gathered that he was a Caucasian male with two daughters. Probably divorced I figured as I let myself into the bedroom. I placed my bag on the bed and headed for the bathroom.

It had been a long day and a shower was in order.

I turned the shower on and headed back into the room to grab a shower cap. There was no way water was getting in my hair.

I returned a few minutes later to hot water spraying out of the showerhead.

 

The shower was short but again calming. I felt my troubles leave my shoulders.

Briefly forgetting my problems, I was now in work mode as I exited the shower. I dried myself up and headed in the room.

One foot on the bed; firmly on the bed, I began to lotion my entire body. Covering all the reachable inches of my body.

I slipped into my all white lingerie as had been requested. A few daps of my perfume around my neck, between my thighs and I was ready.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and I was actually scrolling through my Twitter timeline when I heard the door unlock. He was on the phone.

His voice grew as he approached the room. He ended the call shortly before he walked in.

The way he looked at me was the way you looked at a new pair of shoes at the mall. He had that

“I must have you” look as he headed towards me.

I was standing up to introduce myself when he grabbed me off the ground and dropped me on the bed.

My first thought was that he was rough but I think he was just built up. He wanted to get all of the aggression inside him out.

His hands were strong and his grip was safe. Weird to say but I was beginning to get turned on by how he was holding me.

He was kissing my neck and working his way towards my breasts. My eyes closed as I was starting to get into the groove.

And then the door opened.

I couldn’t believe my ears. I opened my eyes and caught the expression of shock boldly written all over his face. The front door had been opened.

“You gotta go”

He whispered as he hurriedly jumped off me and pushed me towards the closet door. He grabbed my bag and threw it in there after me.

He seemed pretty affluent and the closet was huge. But there I was living one of my worst nightmares; half-naked in a married man’s home.

“Baby, I’m home”

I heard her say as she walked up the stairs. She must have returned early from some sort of trip.

I just hoped I would not get caught.

They began to talk for a bit as I heard her take her clothes off. Oh shit!

What if she needed to grab something from the closet?!

I turned around and noticed that both their closets were connected.

For a few seconds, her voice died out while he spoke and then I heard hers pretty close. She was in her closet!

I freaked out and gasped.

She heard me and said,

“Who is that?”

I didn’t give her a moment to ask her follow up question. I grabbed my bag and bolted out of the closet. Barefoot and ass cheeks hanging out of my clothing items, I ran.

I ran for my life as I headed down the stairs towards the front door. I could hear her screaming at him.

I yanked the front door open and continued running. I don’t think I stopped until I was about half a mile away from the house.

I must have looked like a lunatic running in lingerie during the dark of the night. But I had to do it.

I stopped with my hands on my knees as I began to catch my breath.

It all seemed like I was going to die only moments prior. I could not understand what had just happened.

 

I walked into a dark corner and put my clothes on. I needed to get home.

I picked up my phone to call Ms. Lecia.

The phone rang a few times and then she answered.

“Ms. Lecia… Ms. Lecia”

I said as I tried to contain myself.

“His wife walked in!”

She paused for a second as she sounded like she was waking up and then she said,

“Did she see you?”

She didn’t ask if I was okay. Her asking me if she saw me did not register initially. But then I put it together later.

“No I don’t think she saw my face”

I replied now feeling somewhat irritated.

“That’s good”

“Can you please come and pick me up? I’m uptown”

I asked her. She again went silent and then said,

“Did he pay you?”

The expression on my face changed as I said

“No…. I ran out remember before we did anything”

She wasn’t silent this time as she said,

“You know the rules Jade. You have to make your allotted amount on the night you’re given a client. I can’t come and pick you up unless you have full payment ready”

I hung up.

I didn’t even let her finish. I was so angry.

How could she?!

After all the money I had made for her!

I was furious but I also knew what going up against her meant. I had seen another girl shipped to Utah because she disagreed with Ms. Lecia over what school she should attend. Now with her money?

Who knew what lengths she would go to.

I picked up my bag and knew I had to head downtown.

International Blvd was my stop. My heart had dropped. I was in shock.

 

.         .         .         .         .        .

Kneva Know by Iman Europe

 

11:28pm.

I certainly didn’t feel like I belonged here. Trust me when I say I knew I wasn’t right or righteous enough to even attempt to judge anyone but I was not a streetwalker.

The cold was harsh. I could feel my nipples harden like frozen grapes.

It was dark as I approached the corner of the street.

There were some other girls gathered there. I just kept my composure as I entered their territory.

I did not want to be targeted or cause any sort of trouble. After all, I didn’t know how this night was going to go and if I was going to make any money.

The kind of money I was expected to bring home from the initial job was 20 times more than what I would have made on the streets in one night but I still had try.

My plan was to find the best looking car and take them for all they had.

Ms.Lecia had enforced that all the girls in the home took a self defense course on Saturday every year to sharpen our skills but we were also instructed to carry a pocket knife and some pepper spray.

 

The street light wasn’t too bright.

Enough to obscure faces from people looking from afar. Police or otherwise.

Customers had to come close enough to see the “merchandise” they were going to be paying for. It was so cold.

I kept trying to distract myself from the cold but I couldn’t help but notice how scantly dressed the other girls were and they didn’t seem cold at all.

I was wearing a pencil skirt that stopped right above my knees but I still felt sexy enough. I had managed to stay fit all through that summer. And for the work I did, it was a plus if everything was firm and perky.

 

There I was trying to convince myself that this was a good idea. I had considered just returning home and giving Ms.Lecia some of the money I had stashed inside my mattress.

But that money was important to me. It was for rainy days or for the day I eventually summoned courage. How glad would I be that I stayed on the streets that night.

One car pulled up and a girl got in without saying a word and I panicked for a second.

“What if he hurt her?”

I thought to myself as one of the other ladies walked up to me and stood right beside me. She looked a bit older. I guessed maybe a couple of years or more.

She scanned me from top to bottom before she inched closer and spoke in a low tone,

 

“You need to loosen up and act like you’ve done this before. If not, these girls will eat you alive”

I looked at her with surprise written across my face. She smiled and nodded,

“How did you know? That it’s my first time that is”

I was able to muster.

She looked straight ahead and smiled and then turned towards me and said,

“Because you look just like I did on my first night out here. Young and terrified. You’ll be fine. Just breathe and be yourself”

 

She patted me on my back and less than a minute later, a car pulled up and she hopped in. I just stood there.

One after the other, the number of girls decreased.

Soon enough it was just two of us left. I was standing closer to the curb as I looked at the time; it was a few minutes after midnight.

I was beginning to think that I was going to strike out for the night when a Grey sedan parked right in front of me. The car was shiny and I heaved a sigh of relief as I felt I would finally make something of the night.

Not meeting Ms.Lecia’s demands was a terrifying prospect and so I was going to do everything to make sure I got all the money.

I straightened my shirt and walked towards the car.

The windows were tinted.

I reached for the door handle and pulled it open.

There was a very inviting scent that hit me as the lights in the car went on. Somehow the scent set off this calming feeling in me. The passenger side on first glance looked clean.

I sat down and turned to greet the person. The inner lights in the car hadn’t gone off as I turned and looked at him.

The man I saw stunned me and I must have done the same as his mouth was wide open. I never esperred it but I did not realize when I blurted out,

 

“Pastor?!!”

 

There were no other words needed.

 

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Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for Part 4 next week.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan