Another Love Entry

I'm no good at expressing myself...expressing feelings...it's why I write...because for some reason, writing gives me the freedom to speak what I'm feeling no holds barred.  I'm not worried about who will read it, not worried about whose feelings will be hurt because my writing has nothing to do with anyone and everything to do with me...my therapy...my emotions...my feelings...my peace of mind and trying to obtain it.

I don't really blog...I mean I used to a lot but I don't now.  I do journal entries.  Even the name of this blog has everything to do with it being an extension of my journal.  Onyx...who I have sitting open in front of me right now...I started an entry in her yesterday but couldn't finish it.  I was on the phone and couldn't see past my tears.  This is something different...sort of.

Love...

Seems like I'm always writing about Love.  I don't know what to make of it.  Seems like there's always so much sacrificing for it...and for some reason I always feel like I end up with the short end of the stick.  I love Love...but Love doesn't love me.  That is my conclusion...I've never cried so much in my life as I do when Love is involved.  Love has this funny way of kicking my ass and then kicking me when I'm down, no matter what I do...I give up this, stop doing that, suppress that and do all this...and yet, Love just keeps spitting in my face, which flipping sucks because if I'm being honest, I really do want this...I'm just tired of what it seems to be costing me.  I know this will be read and the question will be asked, "What is it costing you?" or "You don't think I've sacrificed, that this is costing me as well?"  *shrugs*  Whatever...this is about me...and maybe this shit is all in my head, idk...lord knows the idea has been presented to me once or twice...or a billion times...before.  Maybe it is...guess I'll never really truly know the answer to that.

While having a separate phone conversation from the one that had me crying while writing in Onyx, I expressed that I sometimes wished that I never met my ex, "Gem" because if it weren't for her, I would be able to love blindly, ignore the negative because all I was concerned with would be pure unadulterated happiness. <<< Paraphrased >>> I'm the type that will respect your privacy, whether I have a feeling or not because once you go looking for something, you always find it.  Once found, trust dwindles and it makes it damn near impossible for happiness to ensue.  "Gem" was my first love...pure love...unadulterated happiness because I chose to ignore my gut and give her the benefit of the doubt...and even with the fights and arguments we had, my doing that filled that relationship with happiness and good times that I wouldn't trade for the world.  But it also got me a world of hurt in the end.  It's because of this...that blindness I loved her with and the hurt and astronomical pain experienced behind it that I will never love blindly ever again.  One will never receive the benefit of the doubt from me again because, as this was once stated to me, doubt has no benefit.

What frustrated me during this conversation is that this was not met with understanding...it was met with,

"You're not the only one who has experienced pain, not the only who has put up with shit and put up with shit just for the sake of love.  You're not the only one who has loved blindly.  I've done that shit time and time again...so I don't wanna hear shit about, "Gem".

Imagine my frustration in hearing that...because in all honesty...I really don't give two fifths of a flying fuck who experienced what and if I'm the only one or not.  I'm me...and I only know what I've experienced and how it affected me and the way I feel about things.  I don't give a shit about anyone else because I'm not them and everyone handles things differently, everyone experiences things differently...and I was head over heals, write our names in the sky, pages and pages of poetry dedicated to you, tattoo your name on my ass in love with this girl...young love...first love...the type you only experience once love...I saw a future with her which is more than I can say for most...I saw us having children and living a life of forever and a day happiness with the necessary rough times.  I saw everything that mattered...with her...I cut people off...for her...feuded with family...for her...because I loved her...was in love with her, truly and unconditionally, no matter what we endured or what I endured because of her.  So fuck me for being pissed off that I was not heard and what was heard instead was...I'm making one pay for another's mistakes...I guess...but what I said was totally missed because one thinks they know what I felt and what I'm feeling...right?  Idk...

I know I'm frustrated as all hell...and you know what....fuck it....I don't want to write about this anymore...tired of shedding tears because I seek understanding of everyone and no one seems to seek the same of me.  I'll just continue to suppress things...parts of me, parts of emotions, parts of thoughts...who the heck cares...no one's gonna flipping get it anyway.  Just seems easier that way...that way, no one gets hurt or angry or frustrated but me...and no one will be the wiser, that is, until I freaking implode. FTW & FML

~An Abstraction Trying To Be Understood~

Fish Oil

I am your drug
Place me on the tip of your tongue
And taste the purity of my essence
100% grade A shit
Guaranteed to stimulate your mind
And get your mood stabilized
Intoxicating sobriety

I am your addiction
Seeping through the skin of your fingertips
Infecting your blood stream
Feel Me
As I digest your T cells
Become apart of you
And fight in your honor, the sickness of reality

Ingest me
I was made for you
I erase the dry ass fallacies of life
And provide you with healthy notions
Equip you with cancer fighting agents
And force your heart valves open
Lowering your blood pressure

There is some risk involved
But there always is when it comes to love affairs
Those had between the drug and the addict
Difference in this though, there's no overdosing
No clouds of smoke fogging your mental
No dipsomania and the crapulence as a result
And best of all, no instability caused by shakes of withdrawals

Overall...I am good for you

Take me in small doses
Allow me to ease your mind
Silence your inner haints
Shoe away dementia
And hold on to your consciousness
While placing myself on your lips
Creating, & never letting go of, new memories

And if you decide the dosage should be greater
Increase your intake of me
And I will ride the streams in your veins to your heart
Pumping me through and through, always returning here
This will be my resting place
Until you are laid to rest in your final place
Cause of death being: Stroked Out On Me

Fish Oil

Back Home

Touch down
Easy landing
Rolling down the tarmac
Walking through the terminal

Back Home

Homie meets me
Baggage claim
Two duffel bags
Long stay

Get in the ride
After hugs and hi's
I have a demand
She's got the supply

Want to puff
Laughs...Do I want to breathe
Fire it up
Stress Relief

Back Home

Sitting out front
On the edge of being drunk
Officer drives by
"Have you seen this guy?"

Confer amongst ourselves
Then shakes heads, not around here
Officer drives off
I..turn & blow smoke in the air

Hats surrounding the blocks
Blocking streets off
Its a chase at high speeds
Sirens blazing & I got a front seat

Back Home

Stepped out for a smoke
Nigga looking like he strung out on dope
Walking towards me suspiciously
I...watch intently
Looking up then down the street
He turns slightly, I spot his piece

Black Suburban rolling
Gun in waste band
Ran & pulled...hiding
Can either be hunted or hunting
Need that steel for protection
He's the prey

Back Home

Flicked...
Been here four damn days
Already lights flashing in the rear view

Roll down the windows
Light up a cigarette,
Got to disguise that scent

I'm good but one of us is going in
Fuck the police
You're welcome

Welcome back
Back home

A Dream...

I went to sleep completely exhausted last night...or this morning rather...with a pounding heading and tension in my shoulders.  Yesterday, as most days have been since I've been home, was an interesting day...not necessarily in a bad way, just...interesting...but the most interesting was this dream I had that was very detailed and lasted most of the time I was sleep.

Now...it's been a couple hours but I'll try to recall as much of the dream as I possibly can.

Anyone who knows me knows of a long term relationship I had with...let's call her...Gem. I went through a lot with her and she caused great stress and pain in my life but I was weak for her to say the least.  This dream...factored around her.

From what I can remember I was staying with my grandparents who had this extravagant home with a loft and a nice size fireplace, cherry wood beams with stone walls and this HUGE picture window facing the backyard, sliding doors leading out onto a deck, beautiful green grass, shed and two dog houses for my babies, Lala & Tyson (who I no longer have and haven't had for a little while now).  My description isn't doing the house any justice at all for the picture left in my head.

I receive a phone call...it's Gem...I haven't heard from her in a couple years but she calls me up crying.  Naturally I go running to her rescue.  I go pick her up, ask no questions as to what happened and why she called me and I take her back home with me.

She's got bags galore and I'm helping her carry them into the house upstairs to my room in the loft. Room was decked out, too, btw, lol.  My granny is watching me do this, just shaking her head, probably asking the question I was asking myself as I watched this fiasco...how could you be so damn stupid?!

We get upstairs and I make sure she feels at home...we lay down together in my platform bed with cream colored sheets and down comforter.  I hold her, just like I used to and we fall asleep, her in my arms.  When we wake, things start off good...for like all of ten minutes, then she starts flipping out for no reason what so ever and we just get to arguing just like old times, then...

Change scenes...my grandparents are downstairs...they hear the commotion...Pop is sipping on his coffee...Granny is sitting with her arms folded, looking up at the ceiling...shaking her head.  Pop says, "We better go up there before she kills that girl."  Granny says, "Ion know why she went and got her in the first place. Now if you ask me, Gem need her ass beat."

Back to our programming...Gem is in my closet, then at the dresser, then back to the closet.  She's getting dressed, white hoodie, dark blue jeans, white sneaks, hair pulled back into a ponytail.  I'm trying to talk to her but she's hysterical, moving here and there, stuffing clothes into MY black leather book bag talking about how we should just leave together and start over.  I'm trying to respond but she's not listening and the more I try the more hysterical she gets because what I'm saying is not what she wants to hear.  Now we're both screaming at the top of our lungs.  I'm telling her if she leaves, she's going by herself and she FLIPS and somehow ends up on top of me on the bed trying to choke me out...

Blacked Out...

Next scene, we're on the floor at the foot of the bed. We're tussling when my grandparents come in, my pop raising his voice, which he never does, so that I could hear him above our own screams tell me to get off of her.  My granny sits at the desk in my room by a huge window, gorgeous view, beautiful day outside (sorry, this is just very vivid in my mind). Granny says *Pop's Name Here* Let em fight! They need to get this out. Pop gets to fussing and she tells him to shut up and sit down. He obliges her.  The fight continues...

I rolled over on top of Gem, sitting on her chest with my knees pinning her arms.  I had every intention on beating the shit out of her.  But instead of banging her head on the floor like I was trying to will myself to do in the dream as I watched...I simply proceeded to slap her...repeatedly.

Pop grew nervous as my hands took turns slapping her across her face, each connection a transfer of pain and frustration from myself out into...wherever.  He said calls Granny's name...she holds up her hand.  He turns to me and says stop it and proceeds to grab me, Granny stops him, he sits back down.

I didn't cry, I wasn't yelling & screaming anymore, I wasn't cursing and swearing.  I was completely silent...and so was she...which is probably why Pop was nervous.  She probably looked dead to him.

No matter how many times I hit her, she never cried out in pain, her face didn't develop any bruising or swelling...I just continued to feel better...with each connection.  I slapped her for what seemed like hours...hands probably should have been raw or numb or maybe even both but naturally given that it was a dream, they weren't.

Now, I don't remember counting how many times I hit her while doing so...but suddenly...I stopped...one of my hands still in the air...chest heaving...and I saw her for the first time since all this started...she was squeezing her eyes shut...no bruising, no swelling, no blood, no tears.  I dropped my hand...thinking...I just hit her 104,361 times...104,361 times...One Hundred Four Thousand, Three Hundred Sixty One Times...  I have no idea the significance of this number but its what was there in my mind...its very random but but also quite specific.

I stood...she stood, slowly...even though there was nothing there on her face and I had hit her on both sides damn near equally, she cradled the left side of her face...I imagine because I am right handed.  She looked at me and I looked at her...the thought of her going to tell her sisters what I did and her sisters coming for me ran past the forefront of my mind and I mentally prepared myself for it, already devising a plan to take them all.  She turned...picked up the book bag and said, I'm sorry I came.  I said I'm sorry you did, too...when you leave...make sure you take Tyson with you.  She turned and looked at me again, THIS TIME, with tears in her eyes as though out of everything that had just gone on, THIS, my telling her to take the dog I got for her, hurt her the most.  She nodded, still cradling the left side of her face and disappeared out my bedroom doorway, leaving me standing there with no words, my grandparents sitting behind me.

Then I woke up...

Seems like this dream holds some type of meaning...or something...I don't think this dream was for naught...has to be my subconscious telling me something...and I feel like it's positive whatever it is...or maybe it was just a dream and I'm looking too much into it...

You know...I could sure use one of Jah's interpreter's guided by his holy spirit of the olden days to come and help me out with this...or at least say...FOOL! That dream don't mean jack! Lol...*shrugs*...Ion een know...*smh*...

Maybe....

Sitting here in silence trying to figure out this thing called love.  It's so flipping confusing.  I seriously don't know what to make of it...and I'm starting to wonder if it's meant for me.

I'm tired of love hurting me, tired of it making me cry, just tired of love period.  It's like...wtf is the point.  I thought love was supposed to make you happy, supposed to make life more joyous.  Well when the hell is that coming for me.  I'm so lonely...but at the same time with my track record, I'm just going to end up alone anyway because all those I end up with I make unhappy...in one way or another...I'm doing something wrong to hurt them, whether intentional or not...or vice versa.

And I'm ALWAYS compromising myself just so that they can be happy.  The moment I'm not, I find grief all over again.  I feel like the only way anyone can be happy with me is if I change who I am, what makes me, me, and be exactly what they want me to be.  I feel like I have to give up some part of myself...stop talking to everyone around me, become a hermit and unhappy with my life and self, then they will be happy.

I just wish that people would understand that I am not them...I do not conduct myself as such and the last time I did such things it was completely for naught and left me totally miserable during and after the fact which is why I refuse to let go of who I am and what I do now.  I don't give a f*** about who you talk to or may or may not flirt with because I am secure in myself...but everyone is not like me.  And I can't expect them to be but they cannot expect that of me either.

Love expects so much from me...never promising and actually delivering anything in return.  It's just so f***ing selfish and draining.  Yea...I'm seriously starting to think...maybe...love is not for me...because love...u suck.