As you take the opportunity to browse over my thoughts keep in mind that I write it as I feel it. Isn't that the way all writing should be?

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

welfare baby

Please explain to me why I have to work to support your lazy ass? Your rent is $32 a month, you get $450 in food stamps, and a check from the government. Yet you don’t work, never have in fact, and continue to pop out more babies while driving around in your pimped out Lexus. You want to know what I drive? I drive a damn Avalon, a 99 Toyota freaking Avalon. You want to know something else? I have $30,000 in student loans so that I don’t ever have to be on welfare. Guess what else? I know how to use a condom and I know what birth control does so I am not popping out kids I can’t afford. But not you. No, I mean why would you when it’s so much easier to just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work? I blame the government. The welfare system is designed to keep you on it. Think about it: a system that rewards you for doing nothing and penalizes you for trying to better yourself sounds sketch to me. As soon as I graduated high school and went to college every government benefit I had was taken from me including health insurance, the one thing I really needed. Yet, if I had stayed home and decided to pop out a litter of Bebe’s kids, the government would have paid for everything. As long as you don’t try to work the government will pay your rent but the moment you get a $7 an hour job they try to raise your rent to $600 a month. Seriously? This works how? Don’t misunderstand, I grew up on welfare and I am not ashamed of that fact. I remember the food stamp coupons in different colors. I remember being in the DSS office with my mom. I remember getting my medicaid sponsored checkups for school. I also remember a woman that went back to school, a woman that kept a job, a woman that did not want to pass down that life to her girls. There are those out there that are on welfare because they have no choice and they are fighting everyday to get off that system. I salute them. You, with your Ronald McDonald red weave, are not one of them. You seem to relish being a leech on society. You are proud of your inabilty to contribute to humanity. Hell, you probably can’t even spell “humanity” can you? You disgust me. You are not a woman and you do not deserve to use such a title.

Saturday, May 14, 2011


In one day my world was shattered. How can you look at a one year old with those thoughts? How could you hurt my nephew? Why did my little love one have to suffer? How dare you steal his innocence? My heart is so heavy. I hurt so much. I feel so guilty that I couldn’t be there to protect him. I feel guilty that I can’t be there for my sister to let her lean on me. You are a sick, disgusting individual. You deserve a place below Hell. You deserve the worst punishment that can be given. I want to be the one to make you beg for mercy but that is not my place. Vengeance is not mine. No, you will get yours. Continue to run. Continue to try and hide from what you deserve. You cannot hide from God. You will reap what you sow. Inmates just love *your* kind. Enjoy your freedom while it last because you are going away for a long, long time. You will answer to a higher power for what you have done. You have not won. You will not win.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Thoughts of the moment

It’s like 2 in the morning. My roommate is on the other couch with his laptop. I have a paper due by midnight tonight. What am I doing? I am listening to Speakerboxx by Outkast while eating Granny Smith apples. Who is Granny Smith anyway and why are her apples so damn delicious? Why am I asking you like you know? It’s moments like this that I realize I am truly blessed to have made it as far as I have in school because I have the attention span of a two year old. Not only that, I am distracted by shiny objects. Furry ones too. Oh, and anything that moves. And chocolate. Why don’t I have a dragon yet? Science has cloned sheep and cats but I don’t have my dragon and I am pissed. Wait, what was I thinking about again? Oh right the paper. Oh hey Elliott bought home a copy of the newspaper, maybe I should read it! No, no not that paper, the nursing school paper. Yeah, that one. Nevermind I’m going to bed…

Monday, March 28, 2011

Crazy magnet

I am a magnet for crazy. No, seriously I am a MAGNET. Not just like slightly crazy. I get the, on a bike, wearing six different colors, asking can he take me for a ride, crazy. If they aren't crazy then they are old enough to be my dad's dad. Like today. I walk out of my house to take my weekly trip to Mojo's for wings. This guy named Chemo, that's his name (he cuts grass in the neighborhood), starts following along on my walk just talking like we are old buddies. He walked all the way to 27th street with me. He turns off and then some guy on a moped decides I look just dumb enough to answer to "aye shawty!" Ignored him only to have a CAR FULL OF GUYS start honking at me. First of all why do ALL OF YOU need to hang out of the window to talk to me? You just look ghetto and creepy. Of course it's not just the neighbor hood crazies that I attract. I think being in the medical field makes me fair game for sick nut jobs. My patients in withdrawal, or with one foot amputated due to non compliance with diabetes, or with CHF and a child my age, those are the ones that want to flirt. Is it me? Am I wearing a sign that says "open season"? Seriously, am I putting off some kind of scent that attracts whack jobs? I can say that after talking to a friend in the medical field crazy creepers have become an epidemic. Crack heads are getting bold now. Ghetto heffas are feeling themselves for some reason. Wannabe thugs really think the stand a chance. Did I miss something? Did someone announce that having nothing going for yourself is "in season" now? Is "bum-chic" the new hottest thing on the runways? Somebody help me out here!

Monday, March 7, 2011


Over the course of the night I have talked about everything from music to beer to tattoos. A friend told me she wanted to get “Timshel” tattooed on her. After much discussion I found out what it means. Can one word have enough meaning to change how you think? Maybe, for “Timshel” is Hebrew for “Thou mayest”. It means we are given a CHOICE. You can or you cannot. How profound. There’s a book called “East of Eden” that has a character that has a wonderful discussion involving “Timshel”. He is asking about a passage in the bible 4Genesis particularly the 7th verse. The KJV says “7If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.” The ESV translates it as “7 If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.” The character looks at “thou shalt” and “you must” and begins to question why the difference. “Thou shalt” he sees as a promise from God that Cain will triumph over sin while “You must” he considers a demand that Cain triumph over sin. He wanted to know why there was a difference so asked someone he knew that spoke understood Hebrew to explain this. In Hebrew it says “ז הֲלוֹא אִם-תֵּיטִיב, שְׂאֵת, וְאִם לֹא תֵיטִיב, לַפֶּתַח חַטָּאת רֹבֵץ; וְאֵלֶיךָ, תְּשׁוּקָתוֹ, וְאַתָּה, תִּמְשָׁל-בּוֹ. If thou doest well, shall it not be lifted up? and if thou doest not well, sin croucheth at the door; and unto thee is its desire, but thou mayest rule over it.” Neither “thou shalt” or “you must’ but instead “thou mayest”, implying a choice to conquer over sin. Does Timshel change the meaning? Does it imply that God gives us the choice to overcome sin? Choice. Such a small but influential word. Choice meaning it’s a decision we must make and thus live with its consequences. What a powerful thought…

Friday, February 18, 2011

Even books can be ghetto?

Can someone please tell me why there are books that look like bootleg CD’s? Why are there books with titles like “Marry your baby daddy” or “Ridin dirty on I-95″? Why are these called “urban books”? Urban, as in black you mean? I understand our people need to read more. I know, reading is fundamental but really? This is the best we can do? We couldn’t come up with something more positive for our people to read? We REALLY enjoy playing up to the stereotypes don’t we? It’s a damn shame that this is the best we can do. This is nothing to be proud of. Once again, we have got to do better my people.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Let the locing begin

So I have made a big decision. I am going to loc my hair. Yes, you heard me right I am locing. I have actually received quite a bit of positive feedback from my friends. I am so surprised at the encouragement that I am getting, especially from the black community. Why am I surprised at the support from MY people? That's easy, every negative comment I have gotten about my natural hair has been from a black man or woman. When I first decided to go natural I was met with negativity. "Why did you cut off all that pretty hair?"<--friends back home. "Your little fro looks like a burnt Q-tip."<--coworkers. "Are you going to get a texturizer to loosen the curls?"<--parents. "When are you going to get another relaxer?"<--family and friends. Yeah none of that was too encouraging, but I simply smiled and learned to let their ignorance of natural hair roll off my back. Yet every other race that I have encountered had nothing but positivity for me. "I love how thick your hair is!" "Look at those pretty springy coils!" "OMG the big hair is awesome, you should wear it more!" Why is it that the majority of support couldn't come from my own people? Why is my natural seen as unnatural by my people? Why must we always be so negative to one another? I almost went back so I could make everyone else happy. Then my hair started to grow. Then my curls started to show. Then I realized God makes no mistakes and if this is the hair He gave me then I have no reason to be ashamed. I have absolutely no regrets about my choice to be natural, my hair is healthier than ever. Now I want to try something new. Now I want to let the twists I always have be a little more permanent. Now I want to do whatever I want to do to my hair. So now I start my locing journey. There will be ups, downs, twists, turns, progress, and setbacks. You know what though? I am going to sit back and enjoy the ride. AND AWAAAAAAY WE GO!

Welcome to where the wild things are...

This is my page. I will tell you now that I am a strange one and my mind is never in one place for longer than like, a minute. Expect my blogs to have absolutely NOTHING to do with each other! These are my thoughts about life, the universe, and everything (gotta love Douglas Adams). Feel free to check out my blogs and whether you agree, disagree, or could care less, comment!