Bullet Proof Soul

Quoted lyrics: Half Gifts by Cocteau Twins (Thanks to Ylisa I am a fan too)

It's an old game, my love
When you can't have me, you want me
Because you know that you're not risking anything

Intimacy is when we're in the same place at the same time
Dealing honestly with how we feel
And who we really are

That's what grownups do
That is mature thinking

Well I'm still a junkie for it
It takes me out of my aloneness
But this relationship cannot sustain itself

Intimacy is when we're in the same place at the same time
Dealing honestly with how we feel
And who we really are

That's what grownups do
That is mature thinking

I just have to know
How to be in the process
Of creating things in a better way

And it hurts, but it's a lie
That I can't handle it
I still have a world of me-ness to fulfill

I still have a life and it's a rich one
Even with mourning, even with grief and sadness
I still care about this planet
I am still connected to nature
And to my dreams for myself

I have my friends, my family
I have myself, I still have me

I realized lately that I have had a shift in my views about love and romance. I don't think this is because of disappointments or bitterness though (then again, I am sure on some level I have been impacted, way more than I care to admit). Somehow I have taken on a new perception because I have seen, felt, touched, and tasted true love. I know its texture. I know its affect. I am familiar with its possibilities. I know it because I truly love ... ME.

It wasn't always this way. I surely have transformed into a different person than I was years ago, and that's a great thing. The true love and acceptance that I have come to know with myself is deeper than I ever imagined it could be. Outside of God's love, I had no idea I could be the recipient of such a pure love.

Lately I have been comparing my self-love to the love that I crave from a man. My "fantasy" no longer involves "falling in love" just for that butterfly/roller-coaster sensation that I became hooked on before.

This leads me to my point.

Thanks to the FABULOUS, MOST DYNAMIC Xquizzyt1, I was up late watching a classic film, one of my favorites, with that sweetest thing called love with Darius and Nina:




I used to be the incessantly romantic, hopelessly idealistic type that would get completely caught up in copping that "gushy" feeling. I suppose I DO want that still, however, I think what gets me MORE enthused is the thought of being totally committed and totally accepted. I still get warm and fuzzy watching love jones, however I am not seeking the magic love in the movies. I want the kind of love where romance will take on many forms. Those less ostentatious gestures and subtle displays of affection will make me swoon and melt me inside. That's my gushy stuff.

I still can savor the newness of something promising. I can dig the romance, flowers, gifts, anxiousness, dishing details to my girls, and other fun stuff.

But I also picture the open discussions and dream swapping. I imagine spooning late at night having a full fledged dialogue about A Different World and my affinity for Maxwell. I look forward to hearing about his favorite music and having in depth sports conversations. I want to have the kind of love that compels me to do those thoughtful things, even if I think it is lame or unappreciated, simply because I feel that he deserves way more than any woman is doing for any other man, and it is ALRIGHT because it is perfectly reciprocated, not matched, but reciprocated effort.


Truth is, there is nothing all that profound about "falling in love" The thing that's worth praising isn't really the falling in love part. To me, the defining moment is when you reach that precise point where you acquire the propensity to support and sacrifice for the person who desires to grow old with you. It is the ability to squash those warped desires that accompanies that "grass is greener" mentality because you want to spend the rest of your life catering to the one that you decided to make it LAST with.

If I can't have it like THAT? I would be getting half gifts of love and that is simply unacceptable and unwanted.

Half Gifts are NO LONGER ACCEPTED HERE.
Discontinued. Disavowed. Denied.

Take that half gift love shit somewhere else.


In one of my favorite scenes of the film, Savon said, "everybody is running around, tripping.. falling in love, falling in love ain't SHIT!.. somebody PLEASE tell me how to stay there".....amen brother...AMEN!!


So...I will keep hoping that I will get the love that I want and deserve from a man...but if he doesn't come along?

I have my friends, my family
I have myself, I still have me

and that's QUITE alright by me!

Quoted lyrics: Green Day - Wake Me Up When September Ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends
Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are

As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when september ends

I think I am getting my blog mojo back. Thanks CHELE for kick starting me!

Good things happen to those who hustle.

That is exactly what I am starting to do. Hustle. Wish me luck ya'll. It's time for the next level.

I am forcing myself to take a blog diet. Until my emotions un-intensify, and my anger becomes less militant, I must refrain from visiting blogs that are not on friendly territory.

I am never one to back down from debate; I welcome opposing views because it compels me to think deeper. This week though, there has been conservative, liberal, open-minded, close-minded, opinions that are sort of draining my already taxed psyche. I have learned a lot from reading and discussing issues that are being highlighted these past few days, but I am going to take a self-imposed blog break. This is well-timed because I will be replacing my blog reading with textbook reading.

It's interesting because after going to predominantly white schools from grade school through high school, I am rarely shocked by attitudes, opinions, or views of other races. Having a cross burned outside your dorm room sort of drives the point home: Ignorance exists everywhere. That doesn't stop me from being saddened though.

I am glad I was able to comment on one particular blog. It was not my intent to change anyone's position on any issue. I just wanted to offer a different perspective. Below is a comment that I posted on a blog entry that truly saddened me, and from the response I received, I can tell that my opinion was heard. The lady posted my comment to her blog entry in a new post: (my comment followed)

I officially closed this subject. However, there is a very articulate well-written opinion that deserves to be read. The main thing that she says that ruffles my feathers is that I don't know what it is like to live with hate and that being black is worse than being white. I lived in an inter-racial relationship for 3 years. I was turned down for jobs because of it, I had black women treat me like crap because of it and I had white men do much the same. I do know the discrimination that black people feel. I do not however believe that the issues in New Orleans have anything to do with race.

Please read and think about what she says. It doesn't change my opinion of the Katrina ordeal. Again, I don't believe what happened there was racially motivated and I don't believe that the government (regardless of where you were born) has a responsibility to take care of you. I believe you are to take care of yourself.

Bullet Proof Diva said some interesting things though and did so without attacking for the most part. I appreciate that more than anything.

My comment on her entry (which was pasted into a new blog entry)

The pics on CNN made me sad, your post just makes me sadder. I don't expect apathetic people to see beyond socio-economic stats, census reports, and other dehuminizing numbers to see HUMAN beings for what they are, not refugees, not faceless, nameless individuals, HUMANS. This last week made me realize that apathy is a disease in our country.You are entitled to your opinion, of course, I just wonder if you truly realize how much privilige you are extended because you are white? Do you know how relatively easy it is for you to go through your day and NOT have hatred spewed at you? I don't make excuses for people who CHOOSE not to empower themselves when they DO have an opportunity to do so, nor do I JUDGE them for the choices they make, because I really have no idea what "they" have dealt with in their life: abuse, rape, alcoholism, mental illness (hugely undiagnosed), and a myriad of other things that stand in the way of poor people of ALL races. I just don't know and neither do you. Maybe you should think about that when you talk of people "expecting the government to take care of them". I think, that is exactly what they SHOULD expect, it is their birthright, it is all of ours, really, to be protected by the leaders of this country. You expect a fireman to show up at your property in case of fire, would you dare DEMAND that? Of course, and you SHOULD. What makes this any different? Because they are poor? Does poor mean lazy to you? I guess your broadstroking things just makes me SAD. I mean how can anyone in THIS country go to "a city that doesn't belong to them"? ....AND for reasons that are beyond their control? Do you even understand what you are saying?

Interesting discussion, the only thing I have left to say to you is, your perception is your reality, as is mine. I hope you never have to endure what the hurricane survivors have endured."

Sometimes I have a jazzy mouth, and I know I can be sarcastic when I want to, but I am learning to tone that down when I want my message to come across. I suppose that shows a bit of maturity and personal growth. I will still cuss a mofo out BUT...I think there comes a time when your bark should preempt your bite.

I remember getting my first taste of Hip Hop while I was away at boarding school. My parents were strict about secular music, so I was sheltered from radio, a LOT of television, as well as secular magazines. By the time I got hip to it, there had already been notable artists, exploding on the scene in NY.

I was amazed, fascinated, and overwhelmed. It was so cool to see young, black kids expressing themselves with their rhyme skills, telling their stories with sheer honesty. Real. Raw. Intense.

It was poetry over music.

It was beautiful.

There was no need to take piano lessons (my parents still bug me about dropping piano). There was no high priced instrument to buy. Hip Hop was genuine talent and it was the TRUTH. Cats like KRS1, Public Enemy, Eric B & Rakim, Tribe Called Quest, and many others literally opened my eyes to things my parents had been TRYING to buffer my whole life. For me, discovering Hip Hop was an awakening of sorts. One that I welcomed and found completely irresistible.

I was in LOVE. Completely sprung. As a teenager, with raging hormones, and very few brown boys in my school, I especially fixated on all the B boys, and hip hop artists who I thought were FINE. LL Cool J (still fine!), Doug E Fresh (he still makes me giddy to this day) and plenty of others. It was true admiration and adoration. They seemed larger than life to me.

I felt connected now. Hip Hop was my husband. I loved Hip Hop and Hip Hop loved me.

As Hip Hop emerged, it began to encompass more than music. Art, graffiti, and clothing became an extension of the collective consciousness of Hip Hop artists. It became a more influential powerhouse.

Hip Hop culture evolved and the rap game evolved with it. Or did it?

I saw the hip hop game transform from a medium for black men to express their pain to the same medium they used to inflict it.... on us... their sisters, mothers, mothers of their children, aunties, cousins, lovers, and wives.

What happened to joints that talked about us making it through together?

When did the lost/low self-esteem having/in need of fathers, uncles, and brothers -girl turn into a gold-digging/ho/bitch/ or slut, that is only good for shaking her phat booty and displaying her breasts?

At what point did we become faceless, emotionless, mindless bodies that bend over while someone swipes a credit card through the crack of our asses?

Honestly? I think women bear some responsibility for contributing to this mentality as the rappers that write those songs. Our attitudes, behaviors, mentalities, or simple support of the misogynistic messages (financial and verbal) makes us just as culpable for the perceptions that are formed about women. So does our silence.

I get conflicted when I hear songs with hot beats that I could "drop it like it's hot" to on the dance floor, but after hearing the lyrics that include name calling or something disrespectful, that dehumanizes, and dishonors women, I recoil.

If I shake my butt to these kinds of songs, isn't that condoning the message in the lyrics?

I don't think I would be running to the dance floor if I heard a hot beat from Maroon 5 or Maxwell if they used derogatory names or offensive lyrics, so why is it easier for me to do it when those words come from my beloved hip hop artists?

I compare it to the same mentality one has in an abusive relationship: I excuse the behavior. Love the offender, and continue to subject myself to the abuse. I overlook the bitches and hoes that are peppered through songs. I get mildly aroused hearing the Whisper Song (I hate admitting that shit). I imagine this to be a by-product of my early love affair with hip hop and its powerful impact on me.

But where do I draw the line?

When will I call Game Over on the rap game's continued theme of misogyny and negativity towards women? Should I disconnect altogether or is it possible to change the landscape of hip hop?

Most times I don’t even feel the same connection to hip hop music, and sometimes an even lesser bond with some of the hip hop culture (Hip Hop opulence irks me sometimes). I know it's because the dynamics of the rap game changed and I didn't change with it.

But how many black eyes will it take for me to fall out of love with hip hop?

Well, thankfully, all hip hop isn't misogynistic. There are hip hop artists who don't perpetuate stereotypes or hypersexualize black women. I have many artists I can listen to who still rhyme about black love. Artists that promote, praise, and uplift black women, instead of tearing them down. Even if they aren't wife'n us.



I still love and respect what they bring to the Hip Hop game.


Speaking of changing the landscape in hip hop, I am SO proud of Fresh! Not only did she win a Black Weblog award (much deserved) but her outstanding comment was published in a hip hop publication. She represented women well (especially Hip Hop lovers) and gave us a voice. Check that out!

In the last week, I have felt surges of anger that I didn't even know I was capable of feeling.

Anger at America

Anger at Media

Anger at FEMA

I have never ever wished that I could reach through a television and grab the neck of a person spewing the most ignorant bullshit that my ears have ever heard.

But I did. I wholeheartedly wanted to inflict bodily harm on the FEMA director Mike Brown on more than one occasion. Each time this man was asked questions, hard questions, he seemed to find a way to appear less and less credible, and more and more detached from reality.

Some gems that were dropped from this man:

"Saturday and Sunday, we thought it was a typical hurricane situation -- not to say it wasn't going to be bad, but that the water would drain away fairly quickly"

The director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency said Thursday those New Orleans residents who chose not to heed warnings to evacuate before Hurricane Katrina bear some responsibility for their fates. Michael Brown also agreed with other public officials that the death toll in the city could reach into the thousands. "Unfortunately, that's going to be attributable a lot to people who did not heed the advance warnings," Brown told CNN."I don't make judgments about why people chose not to leave but, you know, there was a mandatory evacuation of New Orleans," he said.


"People who were unable or chose not to evacuate are suddenly appearing. And so this catastrophic disaster continues to grow. I will tell you this, though, every person in that convention center, we just learned about that today and so I have directed that we have all the available resources to get to that convention center to make sure that they have the food and water, the medical care that they need"

What exactly is this man being paid to do?

FEMA had a drill recently for a hurricane catastrophe:

"We made great progress this week in our preparedness efforts," said Ron Castleman, FEMA Regional Director. "Disaster response teams developed action plans in critical areas such as search and rescue, medical care, sheltering, temporary housing, school restoration and debris management. These plans are essential for quick response to a hurricane but will also help in other emergencies"

What happened to the action plans?

What kind of effective emergency action plans lack the forethought, resources, and technology for the "worse case scenarios"?

Would the response have been quicker if it had been a terrorist attack?

There is undeniable racism, classism, and inequality that has been brought to light in the wake of Katrina and sadly, I am not even shocked.

Not at all surprised that even in the midst of disaster, privilige is extended, and there is no such thing as "equality" in protection:

AN Australian backpacker stranded in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina has told his parents he witnessed horrific scenes while sheltering in the city's Superdome, including murders, rapes and stabbings.

John McNeil, a 20-year-old university graduate, rang his parents in Brisbane yesterday from a payphone in the foyer of the New Orleans Hilton, where about 60 foreign tourists, including 10 Australians, were sheltering under armed guard after they were rescued from the Superdome by US military personnel.

Nor equality in rescuing:

"poor and black, like those stuck at the back of the evacuation line yesterday while 700 guests and employees of the Hyatt Hotel were bused out first"

I expected terms like "lawlessness" and looters to land in the stories. I expected "those people" type comments from certain individuals.

What I didn't expect is the media playing dual role as irritant and advocate in the stories that were told. The blatant racism displayed in the "looting" and "finding" pictures incensed me.

Then the next minute I am watching Anderson Cooper cut off a politician who had the unmitigated gall to thank government officials when people were knee deep in death and dying. He actually had me cheering.

I feel like I have been on this infuriating cycle of emotions that honestly has left me changed.

I am changed by the attitudes that I saw exposed around the world, in media, and in the blogosphere.

I am changed by the realization that regardless of social status, education, or economic empowerment, some people will always view poor people as animals, savages, and "looters".

I always thought that I had a pretty good idea of how our country works but now my perspective has changed.

The upside to my anger?

I woke up.

Now I will become more aware of who I vote for.

I will keep watch on issues that may not impact my everyday life but affect the lives of other people.



I don't want to come through this past week unchanged.

The images and sounds I have heard won't let me.

After my anger subsides, I want to have clarity on the world I live in and my place in it.

I have tried to adjust to the new place. It isn't that easy and uncomplicated as I first suspected. I just wanted something simple, and it became apparent that the features I initially liked, were not that great. Comment features were rather odd, and not friendly. The favorite blog links only allows TEN blogs. Can't even begin to list my favorite TEN blogs! I have over 40 that I check in with weekly, some daily. So I will go back to blogger, for now. Sorry for the inconvenience if you changed your links. Thanks to all who came over during my brief stay.