Lost File

These particular thoughts of mine are called lost file, because some how I got lost without ever being found. I know that God has my back, front, and in between; but most of the time I feel stuck. It’s like I’m in between space and time, not knowing a way. Sometimes I feel like the stars are on the ground, and that the world is dark. I’m living without color, in or on a blank space. I feel like I’m nothing (No true value of oneself).

My misplaced hunger kills me everyday. I am not right. I am not perfect. I am not who I’m supposed to be. Who should I be? In the height of the darkness, I’ve found my way to a paper and pen. Hoping that this will make my life not end. The life of a biblical felon. I’ve fallen, and can’t get back up. I have disappointed myself. With each breath I take it is a waste of space. Leaving the life I knew, to become a complete recluse. Has made me lonely, in the most unsatisfied way. My face has fallen. My life has become a unwrapped cocoon. Creeping and hiding from the loves I once knew.

Till death do us part

My old life has gone. Now I am trying to move on. Taking the bitter broken pieces with me, not knowing how to shed the crumbs. I’ve taken my life for granted, with hopes that heaven should be more pleasant. Not knowing the unknown has made me again fall weak. How do I get through time that never seems to pass me by. I’m stuck in my bed because in sick in my head. My life is not living. I want to sing, and dance, and climb on things. I want the world to know my name written in fame. I wanna be great. I want to be happy (Whatever that means). In order to do that, I need to breath. But how? I’m 23 and have been diagnosed with: bipolar disorder, severe depression, post traumatic stress disorder, and attention deficit disorder. These things wake/make me up in the morning, and tuck me in at night. Its because of this. I am stuck. My mind, body, and soul, are weak. Because of these things consistently playing me like a drum. I can’t be strong, I can’t be happy, but I WANT TO BE CLEANED.

And Jesus Said “Come to Me”

Mar’Quelle

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Hello

When I was 7, I wanted to be 8. When I was 8, I wanted to be 12. When I turned 12 I just wanted to be 18. Then after that I stopped wanting to be older. Now I’m ticking 16-24 boxes just to see if I can blag it! I feel like I’ve spent my whole life so far wishing it away. Always wishing I was older, wishing I was somewhere else, wishing I could remember and wishing I could forget too. Wishing I hadn’t ruined so many good things because I was scared or bored. Wishing I wasn’t so matter of fact all the time. Wishing I’d gotten to know my great grandmother more, and wishing I didn’t know myself so well, because it means I always know what’s going to happen in the end. Wishing I hadn’t cut my hair off, wishing I was 5’7”. Wishing I’d waited and wishing I’d hurried up as well.

My last record was a break-up record and if I had to label this one I would call it a make-up record. I’m making up with myself. Making up for lost time. Making up for everything I ever did and never did. But I haven’t got time to hold on to the crumbs of my past like I used to. What’s done is done. Turning 25 was a turning point for me, slap bang in the middle of my twenties. Teetering on the edge of being an old adolescent and a fully-fledged adult, I made the decision to go into becoming who I’m going to be forever without a removal van full of my old junk. I miss everything about my past, the good and the bad, but only because it won’t come back. When I was in it I wanted out! So typical. I’m on about being a teenager: sitting around and chatting shit, not caring about the future because it didn’t matter then like it does now. The ability to be flippant about everything and there be no consequences. Even following and breaking rules… is better than making the rules.

25 is about getting to know who I’ve become without realising. And I’m sorry it took so long, but you know, life happened.

Love,

Adele

Decisions

  Let’s assume that all is well. Her life is quiet, she has no financial problems, her grades are always good, and her love life is perfect.
Boring, is not it?
Sometimes I wonder if we do not go through all these problems to learn more from life. It is not always that you are going to have someone take you by the hand to the right place. And in those times we need the calluses that life gives you. As I always say, they are the mistakes we have made.
The problem with all this is indecision. To be eroded by doubt, by uncertainty. Not knowing whether to do x or y. The problem is the pain it brings.
It would be all simpler if we just knew what to do. But no, it’s not that simple.
Decisions influence everything. You can be selfish, do what you want, feel good about it, but hurt someone. Or you can be “altruistic” (in quotation marks since I believe that true altruism does not exist) and do what the other person wants, do not hurt her, but get hurt. Some people say that we always have to put ourselves first. However, there are people who feel better to see that the person they love is okay, regardless of the pain it causes.
Unfortunately, I am that kind of person.
I say unfortunately because too often the pain it brings is too much. However, it softens when I see the smile I like. I know I should focus more on what is best for me, but that would be against my nature. It would not be who I really am.
Is it worth changing so much so that I have some moments of selfish happiness?
I believe that these chimeras will always be present in our existence. And it all comes down to decisions. It comes down to the path you choose to take.

Matte Life

Each person sees life in a way. Each person sees different colors. People like me,
depending on the state, see either a lot of brightness, or everything frosted. Right now, everything is frosted.
Seeing the frosted colors does not mean that we do not see colors. It’s not just black and white. It means that right now, yes, there is the glow out there, but our eyes have erased it. It’s to see that the little things that made you happy do not make that much difference anymore. It is to see gradually everything becoming indifferent. Frosted
Gradually, the colors are losing meaning to us (these upset people like me). Nothing is brilliant, just good. It is to walk in a constant fog, to lose the pleasures in all or almost all the activities that would do us well. It’s feeling worthless, a waste of space, guilty almost every day. It is to close in its own cocoon as life goes on outside of it. It is to look in the mirror and not recognize that person so small and so human (even if you expected to see a different monster).
But one day, the brightness returns. After all, after conversations, friends and searches, the colors return to normal (or come back to too much, but that is already the other side of the story). In the meantime, I will continue analyzing the matte life, and shining on what it gives.

BitterSweet

Life was making me bittersweet.
I’ve always been sweet. But not that candy that’s sticky, you get it anywhere. A candy that you get only once in a while, on a special occasion, but when you try it for the first time, you do not want to leave.
I was like that, sweet. And I was happy to give the sweetness to others.
But they took everything from me, and there was nothing left. What was sweet, it became salty, sour. Bitter.
And no longer having the sugar, no longer had the profiteers. At the same time, the acidity of my words drove away who was there for liking myself, not just what I offered.
And so, I found myself alone. Me and the bitterness of life. And I felt good this way. Not that I had no one around, only those who were there were on social obligations most of the time. And I lived well this way. She was hiding in my barrier, and rarely let anyone peek behind her.
Until the day I opened the doors of this wall. Surprisingly, I still had some sugar in there, hidden. However, it was not enough, because when it was over, the acidity remained and I ended up alone again.
This time, alone and without walls.
Seeing me in this situation, I decided to change. I decided to take the reins of my own life. Now, I create my sweetness, but it mixes with the salty memories and difficulties of everything that has already happened. Some see the sweet, some only feel the bitter. Those who really know me today already see that I am a mixture of the two, and that you can live like that, like a syrup of salty caramel.
Life made me bittersweet. And I know I can be happy like this.

Day Dreaming

I could have had the world. Damn, I already had the world. I have lived what I dreamed, I have already loved what should be loved, I have lived where I dreamed. I could have had the world. But the world went away and left me here. 7 billion people and I’m just a heavy, muddled shadow. I am the Midas in reverse. Everything I touch turns to shit. And now I gave up. I give up being happy, I give up trying. This is my story, this is my life. But I still live in the “what if”… I tried… That’s it, I’m tired.

Inability to Choose

Choice. Everyone has a choice. That’s what I tell myself, as I bear witness to the endless cycle of camouflaged slavery. The existence of slavery forces our country to reveal the unjust reality, of those within the African American (Black) culture; my culture. In reality, there are many occasions were black people don’t have a choice. The prevailing interpretation of choice, “The act of picking or deciding between two or more possibilities.”  God created humanity and blessed us with the ability to choose. We all have the ability to make and process decisions; however, blacks do not have the same possibilities to choose from. Not having two or more possibilities is where the problem lies. Options have been taken from us, because of the continuous cycle of slavery. Boundaries condemn and deny African Americans the right to choose, taking away any choice we once had.

Those who don’t understand my reasoning, or feel unsympathetic to this oppressed life style, are not exempt from having a superiority complex. As I’ve come to know the hand holding the whip, I’ve seen many people blame blacks for our enslaved mindset, “All black people have to do, is make a choice to be different. They need to stop being lazy, because they are no different than anyone else. Why do they think they deserve government assistance? Why are they all such violent criminals?”. Due to this kind of thinking, majority of my culture has fallen victim to these statistics.

Dear White People, I’d like to you invite you into the mind of the oppressed. Open your mind to the possibility, which is, your naive superiority syndrome has caused what is in effect. Your chains and whips, have become food stamps and welfare. Your corn fields and sugar plantations, have become ghettos and prisons. The repeated cycle of oppression, has become evidence. Proving black people don’t always have a choice to better our circumstances. Repeatedly having our choice striped away, allows me to believe, none of us are free until we are all freed. Freedom comes when a choice is available, “Nobody can give you freedom. Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything. If you’re a man, you take it.” (Malcolm X)

Some people make it out of the ghetto; however, many fall victim to the struggle. A rare case of success, does not compare to the reality of oppression. For instance, a black student is deemed successful by the dominant white culture, who falsely identifies themselves with the student as equivalent. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. While still remaining sovereign, the dominant culture secures its position limiting the subject’s options. This includes supervision, conditions, and set boundaries, which ultimately voids the freedom and choice the student once had.

It is said, everyone has a choice. My opinion on the matter is hardly black and white. Truth is somethings will always be out of range for black people. Due to the boundaries set, we don’t have equal opportunity, which means we don’t have the same options. Conditions of choices rarely allow blacks to advance in today’s society. To say all people, have freedom of choice, is a terribly naïve state of mind. The freedom to choose is a privilege not granted to most of us, it is shown as history repeats its self, denying any possibility for change.

Invisible Man “The New Form of Slavery”

Slavery still exist in america. We as black people are slaves to society, victims of a white man’s ego and grip. Old slaves were killed for reading and the new slaves wouldn’t read if it killed them. This is an example of how mentally malnourished we’ve become. I look out upon my fellow slaves I seen chains. The chains I speak of are not easily seen, but nonetheless they are physically and mentally defeating.

I went to see a man in prison and gave him these words

Invisible man who do you think you are? I mean your invisible as you lie behind bars, a cage placed on you by society. Trapped you crumble under the man’s foot. I stand watch as you try to satisfy that undying hunger to break free, reaching out for equality and peace, but at last you just get beat. Torn and ripped from your family; mother, daughter, & wife, now they have to fight. Fighting for a cause that will never sadly end. You see Mr. Invisible the world we live in is an unholy place, and that is why the caged bird sings.  We live in a world where people get strung up and shot down,  because of pigmentation. You say you pray, but as James said faith without works is dead, so stand up and fight for your freedom and loved ones. The mind is a battlefield, the enemies have crossed all lines, now is the time to stand up and fight back. Get right with yourself, being that you have been given all the time of the world, this is the first step to justice in our forsaken world. You see they want us to be blind, fin for yourself without thinking of others, our others we must show them the way. They see you behind bars with open wounds and scars, so they seek revenge upon the hands that put you in. Others also go out and further corrupt wars destroying their homes and city streets, thinking that its equivalent with true defeat. We must stop this, out down our guns and take off our chains before we continue to end up in this God forsaken cage. Be open minded to what I say, because these words are unspoken among society today. If change does not come, your inevitable future and your childs will be behind these bars. Until the wrath of God heals our broke society we must fight in this world to be freed.

Being a slave is a lifestyle, some choose to live this way others fight to overcome. The issue of renewed slavery, is that welfare is rising, because it’s the government’s responsibility to keep chains on the oppressed people of our nation. It is our responsibility to know how to take a stand and fight for a free life. Being able to discern how to help and not hinder the lifestyle of the enslaved is a role both sides must seek to make a change.

 

#We are not free until we are all freed

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