I must admit, I made this blog to vent frustrations, pass on wisdom, and examine the few weaknesses I have worked on, and continue to improve upon. Right when I looked in the mirror, and saw the lowest point of my life that I could let myself achieve without contemplating suicide....... The tides took a turn. Just when a long string of situations seem hopeless, and I am ready to just accept the fact that things are, the way they are. The world shifts, and I am opened to a brand new destiny.
I didn't expect it to happen, hell I thought at my age I have been introduced to all of the people I was ever going to meet. Especially in a world as cold, and fast to forget a person as the one I live in. A place where most people don't even acknowledge the existence of another human being (regardless of race) walking down the street. An area of the country that people see your disabled vehicle on the side of the road, and assume that its a trap to rob, or hurt helpful motorists.
I remembered her from my past. She was just a girl then: happy, and eager to figure out the mysteries of life. We did not spend much time together, so over the next few years, both presences have been stored in the back of each others memories, like a time release vault that will unseal itself when the counter reaches zero. I think the vault is the perfect way to describe the situation because without warning, at the zero hour. I was hit with an older, mature, adult version of what I had forgotten so many years ago. Instantly the memories took center stage in the 24/7 Grand theater production that is my mind. The happy little girl role was cut out, and replaced with a tall, dark skin, intelligent woman as the lead actress. When she began her performance, every eye, and ear in the house was affixed to the words, and motions of this ebony goddess. Each gesture recorded, and every movement noticed then stored away.
The clothes she wears, the curves in her frame, the shape of those big pretty eyes that seem to dissect whichever "macho" front I choose to put up. Also the conversation! How could I forget the way we seem to banter well back, and forth (which in my opinion is most important). I find myself inadvertently comparing her to other people. She hasn't lost a match yet, but I am slowly breaking myself out of the habit. I guess I spend a bit to much time thinking about her, but its not entirely my fault. She shares the blame every time my face lights-up when I receive a message, and when an image of her puts on another performance within my mind. The penalties for such actions are swift, and constant: A warm smile, never having to pay for dinner, all the mental kisses one can give, and the deep adoration of a young man.
I didn't expect it to happen, hell I thought at my age I have been introduced to all of the people I was ever going to meet. Especially in a world as cold, and fast to forget a person as the one I live in. A place where most people don't even acknowledge the existence of another human being (regardless of race) walking down the street. An area of the country that people see your disabled vehicle on the side of the road, and assume that its a trap to rob, or hurt helpful motorists.
I remembered her from my past. She was just a girl then: happy, and eager to figure out the mysteries of life. We did not spend much time together, so over the next few years, both presences have been stored in the back of each others memories, like a time release vault that will unseal itself when the counter reaches zero. I think the vault is the perfect way to describe the situation because without warning, at the zero hour. I was hit with an older, mature, adult version of what I had forgotten so many years ago. Instantly the memories took center stage in the 24/7 Grand theater production that is my mind. The happy little girl role was cut out, and replaced with a tall, dark skin, intelligent woman as the lead actress. When she began her performance, every eye, and ear in the house was affixed to the words, and motions of this ebony goddess. Each gesture recorded, and every movement noticed then stored away.
The clothes she wears, the curves in her frame, the shape of those big pretty eyes that seem to dissect whichever "macho" front I choose to put up. Also the conversation! How could I forget the way we seem to banter well back, and forth (which in my opinion is most important). I find myself inadvertently comparing her to other people. She hasn't lost a match yet, but I am slowly breaking myself out of the habit. I guess I spend a bit to much time thinking about her, but its not entirely my fault. She shares the blame every time my face lights-up when I receive a message, and when an image of her puts on another performance within my mind. The penalties for such actions are swift, and constant: A warm smile, never having to pay for dinner, all the mental kisses one can give, and the deep adoration of a young man.
1 comment:
aww this is really romantic. i hope you showed it to her. maybe this will make you a nicer guy?
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