Freckles' Halloween 5 Points

·         I do not dress up for Halloween to often – not really my thing.

·         I love that all the candy will be on sale the day after.

·         I do not like to be scared.  I do not watch scary movies.  I have tried going to haunted houses but its kind of a mess but it depends on who I go with but I haven’t been to one in years.

·         I do not like clowns.  Watching IT at a young age ruined them for me.

·         I love to see kids in costumes.

Random Relationship Reflection...

Single folks need to stay out of the business of married folks business.  Married folks dont need to advise single folks on being single just as the single advising the married how to be married.  It is easy for a single person to find or see flaws in a relationship that doesnt belong to them.  Some single people continually find fault and unsolicitly advise some married people as to what they believe that they should do in their marriage.  Married folks need to stay out of the business of marriend folks too. 

Relationships arent always fantastical.  They take work - a lot of dedication.  There will be rough times, need for compromise, possibly some agree to disagree.  This is within any relationship.  It is easy for one to tell other something that they need to do to better their situation with not much regard to what makes them qualified to do so. Just my thought.

 

 

Freckls' Thought for this day..

Looking back you realize that a very special person passed briefly through your life;

And it was you. It is never too late to find that person again.
Robert Brault

May 8: A place you have traveled to and where you want to go

In the country I have been a few places.  I was born in Los Angeles, lived in Las Vegas.  When parents separated my sister and I lived in Rockford which is about hour outside of Chicago, went to college in Nashville where I traveled through all sorts of states with my college friends.  Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, Georgia, the Carolinas, Virginia, Maryland, NY, DC.  When I lived in Atlanta my job sent me to Iowa and Nebraska which was quite an experience.  The headquarters was in Missouri.   

I’ve been to Mexico.  Tijuana and Resort style Mexico.

I want to go to

Barbados

Sidney Australia

Dubai

Amsterdam

as well as a few other places.

MO to my JO

My last relationship was all sorts of beautiful. In the moment I often believed in giving him my forever and it was easy and simple.  It all felt all kinds of right.  I thought he was the one. The end all, be all. The final key to my lock. The ball to my chain.  He was the perfect verse over a tight beat (BROWNSUGAR).  Until… he decided otherwise.  Though I cannot truly fault him for being all in his head and not in sync with his heart <HOWEVER THAT’S ANOTHER SOMETHING FOR ANOTHER TIME…POSSIBLY MAYBE>

A N Y W A Y S…

During this time I let go of the team and made him my FRANCHISE PLAYER. There were no backups or substitutions. I didn’t believe it to be necessary.  I cut off all alternative options.  Also in this time I began all of the us associations. We can do this, we will do that, do we want… We, we, we with not much regard to I.  It was ok initially because I was suppose to have further need for it but when that changed I needed to be reacquainted with HER.  My supreme individuality of being me but better.  SHE is the very essence of me without attributing and alter ego.  We are one in the same.  She is the MO to the JO better known as my MOJO.

mo·jo/ˈmōˌjō/

Noun:

1.     A magic charm, hex, or spell. I got my mojo workin'.

2.     Magic power

3.     Style. I've got my mojo goin' on!

4.     Sex appeal. I've got serious mojo. 

Honestly, there was a large part of me that hoped that He would recognize that I was all the things that I felt he was to me so I kept the communication open along with my heart.  Then one day it all just made sense. It clicked and it was affirmed that I needed to move forward and let him go.  No need to just stick your toe in the water when you can cannon ball. 

MO is uber feminine.  She is way girly.  She is into stilettos, dresses, skirts, mascara and lip gloss. MO is womanly polite and allows a man to be a man.  She enjoys chivalry and being treated the way a woman should.  She holds her head up and appreciates her best assets.  MO is smart and well aware of her surroundings.  She is nice but not naïve which sometimes get confused by some as a weakness but she embraces it as her strength.  She is not into conflict, strife or unnecessary roughness.  MO is the girl in the woman that believes in love and feeling good in the midst.  She is well put together and all into her presentation which makes ME feel good.

aggressive, militant, assertive, self-assertive mean obtrusively energetic especially in pursuing particular goals. aggressive implies a disposition to dominate often in disregard of others' rights or in determined and energetic pursuit of one's ends <aggressive in his business dealings>

assertive suggests bold self-confidence in expression of opinion assertive speakers dominated the forum>. self-assertive connotes forwardness or brash self-confidence self-assertive young upstart>.

JO is an extension of my MO that plays into her femininity.  JO is more shaken than stirred.  She is the perfect cocktail with equal parts spicy, savory and sweet over ice.  JO is sometimes mannish in her approach in a way that is sometimes overly sensual with several sexual undertones.  She has a way with words and uses them to her advantage to be boldly direct and sort of forward.  She says it like she feels is and leads with her physical emotions.  JO is a bit more aggressive in her dealings.  While she thinks before she speaks she tends to be a bit blunt compared to MO.    JO sometimes inserts random cuss word to get her point across and enjoys flirting though it’s not always intentionally to her benefit.  When she sees something or someone she wants she is focused, confident and self assured.  JO is very comfortable around men and is a lover of men.  She is a guys a girl.  JO loves football, chicken wings and an occasional imported dark beer.  JO unites with MO to become a total package of balance.

My MO to my JO is more in me than I previously noticed.  I thought that I was out of touch with her.   I just need to feel my way through and put it to use to see how far we can go.  We will spend some time out and get to know each other.  I guess it is sort of like riding a bike… you never really forget.  

Do you know your MOJO?

once upon a time he hurt me...

Once upon a time he hurt me, though initially it was not intentional.  It happens when he wasn’t strong enough to pass on the temptation of her.  She wanted him and he was so struck by his own ego that he didn’t pay attention to the set up.  I told him to watch out for her.  He told me that I was acting green though all I saw was red in protection to my love.  He gave into her though of his own choice and they created another.  A life that was not mine to share.  The cheat wasn’t the worst of the hurt.  It was more so that fact that he didn’t heed the warning and mistook it as a jealous girlfriend which I was not.  You see women (though people in general) often disregard the warnings.  I’ve been on the other side of this scenario.  We sometimes want what we want when we want it with no regard to the included parties.  She knew he was not available and she also knew he was into his ego.  She played on that and he allowed himself to be blinded by self centered curiosity.  Just the one time they both concluded but that it was all that it took.  The maximum side of hurt was that he was not man enough to tell me about the result of his discretion which she was all too pleased to share at 16 weeks.  The snide delivery of news made my neck hurt and my face hot.  My blood boiled and fury ran through my veins.  She felt that I needed to know and since he hadn’t spoke of it she believed she to be the one.  He was angry but said we could move forward as if it was much to do about nothing but his baby was not my concern and it was done.  He made a choice which not only changed his life but mine too without so much of a choice for me.  It hurt and he hurt me.  He crumpled my love like the condom package that was supposedly used.  I could not and would not be able to continue with us because it hurt too bad.

Once upon a time he hurt me, though he didn’t see it that way and it wasn’t even his intent.  He had a thing for fast money and street projects that was far greater than his desire to be the man he spoke of being for me.  I never tried to change him but attempted to uplift and encourage him that the streets won’t continue to love him.  He did his best to keep his secular life away from me and when we were together I could feel his potential followed by multiples.  He was good. Damn good.  The love I had for him was blinded by his potential and my blurred point of view kept me satisfied until it didn’t.  His struggles were unfamiliar.  His desires weren’t his ambition.  Constantly investing in so many and never in or for himself.  If only he would but he never did.  There were points of discontent and fear when he didn’t answer his phone or when the phone would ring with an unfamiliar number.  It was not the life I wished but it was my choice to stick around and the judgment behind that decision caused sleepless nights and a supreme yearning for more of my regard and his love.  At the end of the day I couldn’t love him more than he loved himself.  I couldn’t continue to want more for him than he wanted for himself.  He had to decide what he was worth to himself before he continued to fill me with empty promises of letting go.  I could not be the side chick any longer and I couldn’t compete with his hustle.  He chose to do as he had done for so long and I wasn’t worth his ambition.

Once upon a time he hurt me, though he was only thinking of himself to be better for me.  However it hurt nonetheless.  After many years of life lived we were reconnected.  I had no initial expectation but figured at least we could spread wide for old time sake.  We caught up, spoke and decided to rekindle an old flame.  It was hot, sweet, passionate and very honest.  He shared his desires and asked me to be open to the future.  Initially hesitant I gave in and us became we.  We went fast and hard.  He was hard fast and he deeply stroked my mind multiple times in each and every session.  We began to speak of the future and I exhaled believing that God had finally heard my heart blessing me with His Adam to my Eve.  I was in.  He was in.  I began to fall in.  Somewhere he halted. “I love you but I don’t think that I am in love with you.”  Those words left his lips and slowly serenaded my ear before entering and making connection with my brain.  I felt my heart drop before tuning into the rest of the verbiage supporting his initial statement.  There were several concrete details and facts supporting his feelings.  There was no wrong or right.  He was all in his head and was not able to be with me and work on him too.  Though I understood and I knew this circumstance was not due to anything that I had done in particular.  It hurt. It hurt badly.  Those tears came from deep within and the sting of the words spoken caught me off guard though there was no malicious intent.  I felt broken.  How can one be so full of love one moment and then decide to make a decision that impacts us for me with no regard to my heart.  Selfish he admitted but it was how he felt and I respect that to an extent.  We as people are fully entitled to feel as we feel.  I try not to minimize how one feels whether I agree or not.  There was no true comfort. I began to feel all my emotions come to the surface.  I cried. Cried hard exploding heartbreak, hurt, anger mixed with overwhelming frustration.  I cried so hard that breath couldn’t catch up to the tears.  My chest wanted to burst open to free the emotions, yet instead they trickled slowly holding me captive to relive his words over and over in my head.  The thing about being all in my heart and not in my head is that the break is paralyzing.  I don’t want to feel regret especially after I was at a point where I was wide open and feeling completely free to explore all of loves options with him in mind.  I love him and he doesn’t love me enough to fight for us. 

Most great love stories or shall I say fairytales begin with Once upon a time.  Followed by some overcoming circumstance where the conclusion only ends happily ever after.  I would be lying if I said that my love for love doesn’t makes me want to believe in happily ever after.  I still want to believe in fairytales and sometimes it’s hard to feel the joys of love when hurt sneaks in the mix.  I still believe and I have learned that every experience is character building and will bring one step closer to be prepared for the love of my life.  I just have to stay open and one day my once upon at time will have my very own happy ending.

These Freckles: Perfect Imperfections pt 1

These Freckles: Perfect Imperfection

Definition: a small brownish spot on the skin often turning darker or increasing in number upon exposure to the sun.

They define me and allow me to be close to him. I see him and he is me as I am he.

Each one has its own story, own purpose, own location. Not to be removed. Perfectly permanent.

Each has more hope, more faith the size of a mustard seed.

Keep me wonderfully original and unlike anyone else.

Special blessings with the kiss of the creator.

“Four be the things I'd have been better without:

love, curiosity, freckles and doubt.”

Dorothy Parks

“I wasn't always black... There was this freckle, and it got bigger and bigger.”

Bill Cosby

“If you're asking whether I intentionally mess up my hair, no, I don't.

And certain things, like my freckles, they're just there.

I don't do anything consciously.

I suppose I could get contact lenses.

I suppose I could comb my hair more often.”

Bill Gates

“If a man also or a woman have in the skin of their flesh bright spots, even white bright spots; / Then the priest shall look: and, behold, if the bright spots in the skin of their flesh be darkish white; it is a freckled spot that groweth in the skin; he is clean.

unknown

Freckled Faced girl – I haven’t always had them. As a child I didn’t have any and as I got older they began to speckle across my nose and apple of my cheeks. My auntie once told me that once I get about 20 they would take on a mind of their own and boy did they. Spread clear across my face.

When I got to college my freshmen dorm mother asked me if I wanted to some cream to get rid of them. I found that to be very strange but she said that so many people disliked having them on their face since they messed up the complexion. Blank stare.

Cause a face without freckles is like a sky without stars

why wastea second not loving who you are

those little imperfections make you beautiful, lovable, valuable

they show your personality inside your heart reflecting who you are

natasha bedingfield

Fathers Day: the day after

I woke up yesterday very emotional and not particularly interested in getting out of the bed.  I did the regular and prepared for church.  I was not really too enthused but tried to encourage myself in the process. I put on my good praise music and got myself together.  I gried and prayed. prayed and cried.  I did my best not to give into the moment of dark sadness.  Put my dress on and went outside to clear my head and had a very interesting conversation with my neighbor.  He said some wonderfully encouraging things that I gave complete consideration. 

I went ahead and went to church. I love my home church.  It is just a feel good place.  A place where it is completely ok to release.  My pastor said to me that I needed to just let it go and not hold it in.  She said holding it all in will hold you hostage.  Tears are for cleansing so let it all go and I did just that. She told me that the first everthing is tough.  Aint that the truth.

I fully intended on a posting yesterday but my spirit would not allow me to do much of anything but mourn my father and reflect on all things that were him. I miss him.  I love him so much and I often wish he was here.  In my reflection, I realized that I often compare men to my father.  I am drawn to men that have some of his same attributes - good and bad.  My father was far from perfect but he was the love of my life.  I know he cannot be duplicated and nor do I want him to be but I do want someone to love me as unconditionally as he.  Is that asking too much?