KNOW THY Self

Knowing, learning, understanding and being aware of the health and wellness of our physical bodies is important.Knowing the different odors that come from our bodies is really important to our health. Knowing that everyone's body has it's own unique body odor. Some people are actually aware and are attracted to  your unique body scent. Our private parts should not smell like fish, dank, rank, or any form of stank. If they do, they we need to be committed to change from the inside and out. Being aware of the intelligence of our bodies. Learning how to shut up and listen to the signs like a headache, backache, congestion, or constipation can greatly save our lives. But only if you learn how to listen and trust your body's wisdom. You can be your own doctor. You don't need to hear from a professional to know that something ain't working how it was created to perform. You live with your body. You live inside of your body. You should be the master of your body. When something is off, you are the first person who ought to know. 

Just The Way

I write a lot about love. All the ends and outs. All the sweet moments from the beginning to the dreadful endings that seem to always get stuck in our minds more than the good times. The good times that actually happened but are foggy because of the indescribable things we do to the ones we love. I write a lot about love because I am love. I use the word "love" extremely too much. Any realist would say that someone can't simply love that many things. But the truth is, I really do. I love people. I love red heads. I love animals like lions, crows, turtles, dogs, cats, on occasion a spider here and there. I love trees. Big and tall. I love smiles. I love hugs. I love heart to heart conversations. Conversations just for the heck of conversing. Conversations to resolve an issue. Conversations that teach me something new. I love shoes. I love music. I love clothes. I love colors. I love food. I love velvet (that's random). I write so much about love that I harshly criticize myself for not writing about anything else. There are so many other things to write about in the word. Politics. News. Environment. Fashion. Food. People. Places. The human body. But I choose to write about love. Sometimes I'm annoyed and eagerly frustrated at my consistency in writing about love. I've been trying my best to venture and talk about other things, but I end up right where I tried to escape from. Even my daydreams and conversations with myself are about love. I sometimes daydream about writing love letters to the persons I can't stop thinking about. I actually dialogue with myself about what I would write in the letter while pacing the floor of course. I write about love a lot. It's in my blood. I live everyday through my heart's eyes. This is no glamorous life. Why do you reckon people live by "love ain't shit", "don't wear your heart on your sleeve",   what's love got to do with it". I believe they all say it because some how some why they have been hurt. I have had my feelings hurt, crushed actually. I have felt like someone was stabbing me in my precious heart. But no matter those emotions I felt, my affair with love remained intact. I cannot escape it. It pumps through my veins and pours out of my mouth. It appears in my smile and can be seen in my eyes. Talk with me for a little while and I guarantee you'll hear the L O V E in some form of the word if not the word itself. When me and another person are in a relationship, they have no excuse but too know that I love them. Strange thing is, I don't like saying "I love you" that much. Weird huh? I'd rather feel it through my bones and have you listen to my heart beat. I'd rather show you through me cooking for you, buying you a cheesy watch with your favorite cartoon, listen to you, take interest in what your life is becoming, kissing your neck, massaging your back, being playful with you. I need to get more better comfortable with saying "I love you". I don't want that to be my biggest regret when I get old. When I get sick. When I die. I didn't say it enough as I showed it. I didn't balance it out. Sometimes just saying the words in writing, over the phone, or in person is what someone you love and care for needs for that moment. I don't doubt that love needs to be shown, but I also understand the beauty of it being said. Like many things in this world, showing love and saying "I love you" needs balance. In my opinion. I hold the belief that we are all connected. Yes all of us. Even the mean old woman who looks at you disgracefully. We are all living on this planet, together. The land mass of this planet is huge, but we are interconnected that I'll bet we both have someone in common. Or the person we have in common has someone else we know or familiar with in common. It's a small world. It's true. Even if we never meet, you apart of me and vice versa. We share this planet and all of it's resources with each other. Oxygen. Water. Soil. Sunlight. Back to my point, when I miss people I love I always try to tell them how much I miss them. New though forming right now, if I hold the belief that we are all connected then how can I simply say I miss them like we are separate from one another. They, whomever they are, say love knows no bounds. That's referencing the physical distance. I read something about something the French say. Regardless if it's true or not I'm using this in my semantics. Supposedly, and no there is no references or sources to this information, the French don't really use the words "I miss you". They instead say  "Tu me manques" which closely translates to "You are missing from/to me". I don't know French so corrections are welcome. My point though is the difference that translation has. If I was to text a significant person in my life: You are missing from me, I feel like automatically without hesitation they know how important they are to me and a smile is guaranteed to be on their face or in their heart. Man. Just think to hear that from someone. How would you respond? What would you think? I think there'd be no questioning if someone loves, thinks, misses you with those words. You are missing from me. It just sounds like you are essential to their being. I write a lot about love. I love love. There are no ifs, ands, or butts. I write a lot about love. It'll never stop. There's a vast world out there in the topic of love. I'm here to explore every inch. 

NEVER AGAIN

HATS OFF

A month and a day ago, I GRADUATED from the University of West Georgia with a B.A. in Psychology and a minor in Africana Studies.

I learned some things in the classrooms, but I learned, applied, and experienced many valuable lessons outside of the classroom that could truly never be taught. 

I made friendships and acquaintances for a lifetime while others only came around seasonly. I struggled with being on time to class, but I had great relationships with most if not all of my professors. I was far from a book worm or star student. What got my blood pumping was the smell of a deadline inching closer and closer. I couldn't do what others did, I found that through college. As a psychology major, we had too many papers to write and every time one was due I waited until the last minute. It's something about the Line of Death that seems to enhance the flight or fight response in us humans. I remember reading something about procrastination. It mentioned how people who procrastinate only engage in this behavior because they are afraid of being as great as the know they can be deep down. Don't quote me on that because I vaguely remember the exact words, but it stuck with me since I self-identified as a procrastinator. Once I started getting into the rhythm of the person and student I was, I no longer stopped doing things I loved to do just to finish a paper or study for a test. Would it had helped if I had complete silence and concentration for those things, I'm sure but those abilities went to the next person who were more open to receiving them. I guess you could say I was a bit of a lazy student from my junior-senior(2) years. I assume that if I would have been motivated, studied 2 hours a day, read every book for all my classes, joined in discussion, started doing research on papers and studying for tests months before the events were scheduled to occur then I would have graduated on time. 

Yeah I didn't graduate at the expected date I was supposed to. I enrolled in the fall of 2008 and was supposed to graduate Spring 2012. When it didn't happen that way, I was upset and began beating myself up. I beat myself up for the exact things that I now accept with no strings attached. I felt like a failure for not graduating with "my class". I grateful for having to "stay back" another year. I've learned even more about myself, found out some things about the world that do nothing but generate more questions no matter how much "truth" I expose myself to, got to live with one of my great friends, and so much more. During my first senior year I was becoming introduced to alternative medicine. I had already become natural with my skin care and hair, but there was one class that did it for me. Now that I'm thinking on it I had an amazingly trans-formative experience. The class I spoke of was Holistic Health Psychology. It didn't help that a tall, man with  locks from Trinidad was teaching the class. This dude had knowledge for days. Sometimes he would go off on a tangent, but it all seemed to relate. And even if it didn't relate, it was just so interesting that I got so lost and after class I researched every inch. I was that hungry. The next one was basically the start of who I have morphed into, well more so values and beliefs that I have come to adopt into my everyday life. The psychology department sponsored an event that brought Alex Grey to the school. Alex Grey is a visionary artist who is associated with the New Age movement ( that description from Wikipedia ). I think I can do better at describing him by telling you what happened that night for me. I went to the event by myself. I had never heard of him before and was really interested just by the artwork on the poster. He and his wife came to share his art and his life. He spoke of his last day of college, where he ran into one of his professors and experimented with LSD. If I can remember correctly, he met his wife that night as well. His pictures were very telling, raw, and made me feel like "what in the hell have I been doing with my time in college?'. One of my favorite pictures from his life and art are when he and his wife (then girlfriend) were naked, looking like they were making love in a display in the museum. I was so enthralled when he got to his amazing paintings that include detailed representations of the lymphatic, nervous, skeleton, and cardiovascular system. I felt a sense of warmth, tingling, and a sense that something within me was shifting right in there in the chair. I just felt like I was at the right place at the right time in that moment. Directly after, I felt like I was high. I felt like I was in a trance. The trance-like state felt like it lasted for hours. I honestly was interested in trying LSD. I seriously looked up the hows, history of it, and the proper ways. During my research though, I keep coming across how some people who have tried it and professionals who have studied it said that LSD could help with psychological disorders but only with trained professionals and in the right setting. I also came across how it shouldn't be used recreationally, like say alcohol or cigarettes. Basically it's nothing to play with, that's how powerful it is. I started researching chakras, finally got the courage to do meditation, and became more appreciative of the human body. During my second senior year, I continued to fed off of that experience and my love for reading magically came back. I had lost my love for reading. I'll attribute that to the early college years of only reading textbooks that didn't give me any type of life. People knew the library at school was basically my second home. I had no shame. But when last year rolled around I was literally always in there. After class, that's where I was. Chilling in Starbucks. Exploring upstairs for books on any and everything that peaked my interested. Sometimes I would stay for hours, with stacks of books, writing notes, drinking a mocha frappuccino, and listening to music. I would describe myself in both of my senior years as hungry and thirsty for knowledge and information. 

Ready for the next chapter in my life. 

Sentiments of the Past

You ever find yourself missing someone you used to know when you were a child? I just had a bout of nostalgia just now while I was listening to "Always and Forever" by Heatwave. When I was little, I used to go to Kids r Kids Daycare and this girl named Tawanda worked there. She had to be in her early 20s around the 90s while I was just 5. She basically adopted me as her little sister. I loved being around her. She was so nice and friendly. She really was like a big sister to me; she let me sleep over her house, she took me trick or treating at the mall, she would babysit if my mom had to work late. I used to think she was so cool. She was tall and skinny and used to wear really cool upper arm bracelets and those belly chains. I just knew I was going to grow up to be just like her: independent, skinny, pretty, have my own car, and have a job. I remember buying one of those upper arm bracelets, remembering her style but it didn't fit around my muscular arm.I hate that I can't remember her face, but I definitely remember that she was pretty. She seemed to always enjoy my company no matter how tired she felt. I haven't been in touch with her in over a decade now. I think I moved and went to another school which resulted in me never seeing her again. I might not remember the specifics, but I do know I cried because I wasn't able to see her again. I wonder what it means when someone pops in your head that you haven't seen or spoken to in a long time. Maybe she was wondering about me too. I find it a little trippy, because I haven't thought or even spoke her name in a decade, literally. I'm one of those people who believe we are all connected at all levels, especially the soul level. If by some miracle, law of attraction, mind-blowing divine plan that's set up and we run into one another, I'm sure I would cry and smile like the Kool-aid man.

PSA: STOP THE SPAM!!!

Who doesn't love music? I think music is a universal language. A conversation starter. Ice Breaker. The knot that can hold anything together. I love music; all kinds. If it resonates with my soul, I'm all in. That being said, this is a PSA!

If you trying to make it into the music industry, please understand that you need to be working. Working real hard. If you are serious, your efforts need to be serious. No half ass. No short cuts. I don't know how the music industry works. I couldn't tell you any tricks on how to slide in, what manager you need to have, what process you need to take but as a fan of music I will give you some tips. Now you are unsigned and trying to make it big.

First: Don't quit your day job unless you just know you can. I think the point is implied, but I'll explicitly explain. You'll have something to fall back on if it doesn't work out. You will have extra money in your pocket to spend on graphics, studio time, or even a PR.

Second: Get in touch with your community. If you just know you good at signing/rapping/both expand your music within your community. This can build your fan base. We live in the technology era, so of course you are probably already on Youtube with videos of your covers or homegrown music videos, but it never fails to have your community behind you. Ask around if you could headline someone's show, do talent shows, or just start singing in public.

Third: STOP THE SPAM! I don't want to log on to Facebook or Twitter with just a link to your music video/song/download to your mixtape and we ain't never had a conversation. Or you are someone I went to school with and we used to associates but you sending me a link through Facebook chat but you don't say "Hey", "Hey, when you get some time could you please check the link out to my music", or any other acknowledging statement that let's me, as a music lover and possible fan, know that you care about your audience. It really grinds my gears when people do that. I don't care who produced your song, how many days and nights you were in the studio, how many takes it took, who you got featured on the song. If you want me to click on YOUR link to your CRAFT, show me some respect. Instead of just throwing your link at me, try having a conversation with me. You don't have to take me to dinner and a movie but at least remember that YOU want me to listen not the other way around. 

Stalker?!

Maybe it's because I've become more aware of myself, my surroundings, other peoples, things in life but I truly believe crows and ravens are stalking me. I saw stalking but I mean following in the nicest way possible. Now I know these two birds, that are different but kinda like cousins, are not the rarest in the world. I'm sure someone has either seen or heard one in their lifetime. If not then, maybe it's all in my imagination (scary). Everywhere I go they are there, the mall, school parking lot, parking lot in my apartment complex, on campus, in a painting at a store I've never been before. They are everywhere. I'm a believer that everything has a purpose, it can't just be. The just be, is just be for a reason (if you could keep up with the meaning). I believe I've come to the conclusion that they, both of them, are two of my many spirit animals. One time I was walking to class, something told me to look back and there it was landing on the light post and when i looked back again it was gone. They fly over my head. I'm just waiting for one to come land on my shoulder like the lady in Home Alone 2. Some have negative beliefs about crows and ravens and I respect their beliefs but I don't share them. A lot of people are afraid of the dark. They don't understand that balance is needed between the dark and the light. I think they are beautiful birds with so much mystery in not only their color but their eyes and calls. I get my crow and raven medicine everyday without skipping a beat. I'm surprised they haven't visited me in my dreams. I believe they have something to tell me. Stalker with a message? Why don't they just spit it out already?

I believe my other spirit animals to be spiders (ahhh!) and cats.

I've also come to another conclusion that instead of being irritated at them always following me, being where I'm at, I'm going to thank them and talk to them to see if I get anything. Not in my language of course. I'm fascinated by them yet shun them because of ego and not fully understanding their meaning in my life. from now on, I'm going to appreciate them. After all, they are created by the same Creator who created me. they deserve to share the spaces I occupy as much as someone else does. We are all apart of the Animal kingdom, although we are divided into different phylum, clade, and class. The Creators breath is in my beloved crows and ravens! 

Pressure

I miss your voice, face, skull and bones. I should tell you, but we're just friends. I respect our friendship. It's still difficult to assume the friendship role when we have always been more than since the day we met. I wonder will you ever get tired of this cycle. Will you go away again and never come back? Every time it seems that way, I always feel like it's not the end. How come it's never the end? Not asking in the sense that i want it to be the end but just curious. No matter what, I'll always love and cherish you. I've always just wanted to tell you the whole of how I have felt. So many emotions that creep out when I'm not paying attention. Most times I only showcase the obvious ones; the ones you readily acknowledge when we're together. There's so much to say, just can't find the words. 

Full

It's so much easier to go through a drive thru or sit in a restaurant and have them cook/warm up your food. Who enjoys being inconvenienced about anything? I don't see any hands raised. This culture is so used to grab-n-go. It's basically become a very important part of our lives. I don't want to keep relying on businesses ad employees who don't care about the quality of my food. At this point in my life, I barely have money to my name but I know I don't want to settle. If I'm invited to anyone's birthday, celebration I might have to plan it out. I won't be a debbie downer. I love my friends that I have and the friends I'm going to meet soon. I appreciate them and I know it's vice versa. I'm mainly talking about when I'm alone, on the way to my future job, taking a lunch break, snack break, eating before and after my work out, visiting a friends house, at the movies, heading home after work, dinner, lunch, vacation. My last $20, $10, $5 will be spent on something that I purchase from a farmer's market, health food store, select organic sections in chain grocery stores. Make your own food. Read food labels so you know it's real. And even if I do eat out, I'll be conscious of what I'm ordering. The myth that eating healthy, organic and natural food is expensive is just an illusion. What you see on the price tag is not necessarily the value.

Food is one of the most important basic needs we humans need in order to survive. take baby steps, take giant steps. Only thing I care about and the only thing you should care about is that you're taking steps.

This is going to be a tough shift for me since convenience is all around us with well lit signs and billboard sporting the colors that are known to stimulate appetite.

If you are overweight, slightly or extremely, consider yourself mis and ill-informed.
Our bodies are made to move, but just because you move doesn't mean that the weight will come down. Pay close attention to what you're putting in your mouth. Look up the names on the back of the bag or can that you can't pronounce.

If it's normal, then question it.
Why is gluten-free, dairy-free, organic, natural foods all the buzz and controversy... research it yourself.
Research includes documentaries also ( for all of those who enjoy a movie and visual learners)

it's just a show but...

the actors portraying the characters are so talented, you tune in every selected weekday to keep up with the lives of this fictional characters that more than likely have existed some time in the past, present, and future. 

Lane Pryce is an honest man, who was just too damn nice. He was a bit of a push-over all of his life because of his inability to stand up to his loving, yet domineering father. He would never hurt a fly with his pleasing smile and unprotected heart, except for the time he beat Pete Campbell’s ass but then again Pete Campbell is a pig, who deserved every single fiery punch in the face. Sometimes mistakes are made for the greater good of others, ignorantly, and sometimes it’s to get ourselves out of a rut that we just have  to get out of. I wish Lane wasn’t scared of standing up to his father. I wish he could really have sex with a black woman without the fear of rejection and disapproval from his father. I wish the energy he devoted to pleasing everyone, he could have turned around and pleased himself in luxury and the real self-satisfaction of saying NO (without beating himself up and being guilty). To be honest, he could never truly survive in America. His spirit wasn’t cut out for it. Although his relationship with his father was much like a strictly business partnership, I wish he would have taken the offer to go back home to England. America, back then and now, never knew how to stop working and enjoy a cup of tea. We, Americans, don’t understand the logic, principle, and psychology of enjoying life even during a work day. We just believe that working hard, long into the night, will get us to where we want to go and get us the material things we want. Only after we are pissy drunk, unsatisfied about the life we have built, have black lungs thanks to all the cigarettes we smoke a day, then we would realize that there is more to life than what was done with happiness waiting at our every beck and call. Waiting to please us with her delightful smile through the chirping of the birds, gaze of the sun, pungent and sweet smell of flowers, plants dipped in a delicious shade of green announcing that spring is right around the corner. I wish that everyone else’s dirty secrets were aired out for the company to see, but even if that were I believe Lane would have still left the company the way he did. He wore everyone else’s personal emotions and problems with beautiful cuff-links given to him for his 30th birthday by his wife. She never understood why and will confused for the rest of her life at his decision, but hopefully he talks to her at night to ease her pain. He should have told her the truth, but I guess he thought of that and even though he’s been promiscuous and has thoughts of continuing to be so, she was always there. Everything happens for a reason. That’s so cliche. But that’s the tagline to my life. Everything happens for a reason; even on a tv show. 

Sometimes it’s hard to separate characters from their actors. I’m not going to throw rocks or tomatoes at any of these beautifully, creative actors who have made me hate them, love them, and be disgusted by them. I’ll just clap really hard for their performances. bringing words to life through live action is a hard thing to do. Jon Hamm knows. I love him, but I’m on the fence with Don Draper. He still fine though. Now I’m off to cry my eyes about Lane Pryce’s decision.

(originally written on my tumblr: uniqueleo.tumblr.com)