The Ramblings of Mr. Diggler

simplified complexity...

This morning I woke up from a dream whose topic matter would be far from suitable for anything short of a very adult dvd.. sure that doesn’t surprise many or any for that matter.  Initially I was tickled at how good the dream felt and actually considered being consumed with the subject matter of the dream. What surprised me was what I was able to take from that dream.  I realized that a void in my life that I’m always trying to fill is not one that is some very simple its complex.  In a recent conversation with a non-genetic sibling (sister from another) a question was posed to me that touched on the subject of human existence and human nature.  She wanted to know why things ALWAYS have to be so complex… so hard.  I gave the answer I have come to accept, as an aspect of the reality that I see.  Things in life are hard because WE as people make them hard.  Concepts like Algebra and Calculus complicated the simple reality that 1 + 1 = 2. Why the complication was necessary I don’t know but apparently it had something to do with the necessary challenges that help make us feel as though something has been accomplished that everyone else couldn’t just as easily accomplish.

What I discerned in thinking about my dream is the same thing I realized about the person in the dream and the person I was thinking about before I went to sleep and the person I spoke to on the phone before I decided to call it a night and my fraternity brothers and a plate of mashed potatoes and chicken fried steak with cream gravy they have all proven to be something I seek to have as a constant in my life – comfort. Comfort food eases the spirit and soothes the soul and makes us forget that something may have been wrong. Funny enough a person that brings that comfort has the ability to do the same thing so long as I allow them to serve that purpose in my life.  While each person in my life serves their own individual purpose, they all work in a web to help me stay afloat over the pit of despair and depression that plagues us all at sometime or another.  Perception allows us all to spread the weight and strength of comfort in ways that don’t usually allow a singular person to be too intricately woven into the fabric of our comfort.  However there are those of us that suffer the slings and arrows that life uses to assault us when we find too much comfort in others and not in ourselves.  For those devout religious figures this would be the part where they would say that the best thing to do is to make sure that you remember that GOD is the ultimate comforter and that allowing GOD in your life is what helps.  I could argue the point either way and probably get a kick out of the process but what I will say is that the presence of a higher power in an individuals life is still contingent upon that individual which points to something that I, and maybe others have missed for so long, the main source of comfort may well be housed right in ourselves.

I’ve found comfort in hanging out with my rowdy frat brothers because it’s a chance to be one of the wild boys and to let it all hang out.  I’ve found comfort in my jobs because I’ve felt that I’ve been able to help people with aspects of their lives that have proven to be a challenge.  I’ve found comfort in the arms and affections of women as they allow me the chance to feel as though even for a fleet moment I’m either the match or the wood but most importantly I’m part of the fire that burns in passion.  I’ve found comfort in writing as it gives my words a chance to get out of my head and maybe touch more people than I could by talking.  I’ve found comfort in the peace that comes from being alone while I’m walking or swimming as I take that time to clear my mind and just be. 

If you’ve taken up the mantle – once or numerous times – thank you for being a comforter in my life, you’ve helped more than you might ever realize.

hi there...

so a little over a year ago I walked into walmart... it was late and most of the world had already called it a night, but me I was getting off work and I knew I needed to get some diapers for my son, so hi-ho the merrio a-Walmarting-I-must go. I was wondering what else I might need when my eyes locked on her.  I was pretty sure she wasn't on sale but I knew she was indeed want worthy.  I looked a little harder and realized I knew her, kinda.  I had recently met her at a house party but I couldn't remember her name...  She was checking out, I was walking in so I stood by her line and asked her if she was getting enough cash for me.  She laughed and then realized, "Oh snap I do know him!"

I talked her into walking around the store with me inspite of the fact she had already made her purchase and thus a friendship... an opportunity... a situation... a something was born.  We realized that we knew plenty of the same people and that knowing each other wouldn't be so bad.  A month and some change later she drove away to another part of the world and a little part of me died.  That month made me feel like I was a bug - because while it was only a month it felt like a life time had passed.  We continued to communicate and get to know each other, thankful that we hadn't "taken the big plunge".

When she flew into town I was estatic, like a kid that had a golden ticket to the chocolate factory and won that yearly shopping spree to toys r'us that we all prayed we'd win back in the day.  She walked down the ramp towards baggage claim smiling and there I stood smiling like an idiot... or a fool that had fallen in love.  I made her cookies from scratch - two kind and she made me a cd.  We saw a movie about lovers that couldn't be together or they would become weak and die and our hearts cried sadly... later that night we loved each other and she cried joyfully...

and now just over a year from when we met I cry a monson inside because the situation that kept us apart is being resolved but our together is now blocked by her together... with someone else.  I hold strong to my feelings and am known for my tenacity, but in this situation I wonder if my tenacity won't be but a pipe dream.  He's a great guy apparently and she's very happy, and as her friend I want to be happy for her.  But as the lover that is left alone I am simply that... the lover left alone... in a world full of others. a fool in some respects a brave soul in others.  I loved.  I care.  I  wait.  I live. I am.

loving who?

Funny when I do my job I have to advise people of a very important but true point.  In the process of trying to help anyone else, dealing with anyone else, dare I say loving someone else you have to make sure you take of yourself.  As hard as we love and as much as we give, we can’t do much if we don’t have a base of operation from which to launch these acts of kindness.  The hard part of loving and living for many people is the taking care of self part… or maybe that’s just me?

 

As I sit here bobbing my head to this bomb ass playlist I have to smirk to myself.  I made this playlist like people used to make tape for people when the words from our mouth were just prone to get in their own way.  The funny part is in making any gift for someone we care for we take something, in this case a bunch of songs I didn’t help produce but I think are dope, and painstakingly arrange them in a way that when played they might say what I’m not able to say.  When I made it I could just see the receiver being overjoyed by the gift and even happier upon listening to it and clearly understanding what I want to say and scream the same thing back at the top of their lungs

 

*insert the sound of a needle being pulled across a record*

 

What matters is that I did something to show I cared.  Whether or not that individual is able to reciprocate shouldn’t have as much of an impact on the gift as I like to believe.  What matters if I gave a gift based on my feelings and those feelings were expressed.  Simple, plain and true… also done and did.  No taking it back.  The cd gets played or I get played doesn’t much matter.

 

Though it’s been a long time coming what I’ve done is learned that my focus has to be redirected at the handsome fella who brushes my teeth in the morning.  I can give all I want but apparently no one will ever be able to love me like I want to be loved so I have to, while being able to accept that when the time comes the person that will love me will simply love me the best they can.

 

I just always wanted to believe that with affection, love and all other acts of kindness, reciprocity was an attainable plain of existence.  Now that I’ve accepted that a person can only give you what they want you to have I can honestly say I look forward to the day I don’t think that sucks so much.  The bright side is when that day comes… and even goes, I’ll be a more capable person on so many levels.

All my life I had...

All my life I had to fight… sure it’s the line from a memorable scene featuring Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfree, but its also my truth.  I’ve had to fight because I wasn’t black enough, because I wasn’t smart enough, because I did this different or because I wanted to do that my way.  Society is filled with rules – telling people how to live.  Church has rules, work has rules, traffic has rules, sports have rules, hell even writing has rules.  Funny thing about those rules the people that are charged with making and monitoring those rules continue to show the world around them how much they respect those rules by not following them.  Hell a once beloved president of the united states said, he didn’t have to follow the rules because he was president.

Kids grow up seeking approval from their parents via their achievements, accomplishments, and accolades. The funny part is in growing up somewhere along the way you are supposed to learn to do your own thing… but only within the confines of the rules.  Well I’ve never been the best in the business when it comes to following the rules.  I’ve heard for years how I get away with more than a little bit, and more than the law allows.  I’ve been told how I’m spoiled and informed that I think the world owes me something, and for once I think maybe just maybe some of those voices are right.  I feel owed a little something called respect.  I’ve fought against being like every other guy that I hear about, come across and see on a lot of levels because I see the levels of discourse and displeasure they are capable of creating.  I give til it hurts and then keep on giving and am wrong because I have the bastardized belief and opinion that people should give back to me in the same fashion.  Oddly enough when I meet most people, though they probably forget, I let them know I believe in reciprocity and that’s how I try to live my life.  But alas there go yet again another set of rules.  Either way, when that reciprocity is anything but reciprocal people can’t understand why I’m upset.  I’m being irrational…I’m being selfish…I’m just not understanding them… I’m stifling them… I’m crowding them… and the list goes on.

I got married because I was fighting to show myself and others what a good healthy relationship based on communication looked like.  I fought against short coming and insecurities – mine and my own, in an effort to hold things together.  I fought against neglect, mistreatment, Postpartum and regular depression, I fought against memories past of relationships fucked off, I fought against my own selfish whims in an effort to give like I never gave before because we talked about that being our “rule of thumb” to sustain a healthy “us”.  When those things didn’t work out and I found myself unhappy and broken hearted and tired of crying out to be heard I took various actions of my own.  I sought out attention and reassurance from others because I felt that I had persevered as best I could in one place without any positive results.  I fought for myself for once and the results thus far have been less than I would’ve expected.  That lackluster response is probably related to my desire to not hurt others though I continue to run into the reality that others have no problem hurting me.  I will continue to fight as I continue to live because sometimes its all I got and until I am able to get something else it will have to do.

quitely growin storm

I’m trying to listen

but my heart seems to keep hearin’ it wrong

I’m growing

not for the better or worse but because i can’t stop

hoping to be overstood

while failing at being understood

learning to live one step at a time

no running just walking though the fields

to a place that i don’t know i’ve been before

 

wind blows over my skin ticklin’ my soul

the sun rubs my dark chocolate brown skin

light reflecting in my eye

activating the sleeping giant that is my joy

ever elusive lost and on my fingertips

leaving me to long for the days of painting with no brush

but simply with the words

flickering through my mind

Blog from almost 4 years ago... still get a kick out of it

Warning this blog was not written to point the finger at anyone and their lifestyle choices, nor to parody their lifestyle choices in any way form or fashion.  And with that being said.... Let's Start the show

What have I done that makes me so special?  Special how you might ask, well let me lay a little some stuff out there. 

I was raised by women (my mother, my aunt's, female cousins, my mom's friends, God mothers).  I was raised around women and I will confess, YES I used to have a Gherri Curl.... (phuk you its not that funny) and before I grew a mustache I was often mistaken for a girl during those rough times we call puberty... because of that Gherri Curl though I was also allowed to hang out in the beauty shop (and watching women change shirts when they don't know your a boy is pretty cool).  I cut my Gherri Curl off about 9 months after everybody else did not because I realized I was out of style (I don't mind being different) but instead I cut it off for a girl.  That girl would one day become one of my best friends in the world (and even later when we were in college would end up coming out of the closet to me).  I went on to high school and I ended up surronded by a room full of girls all day- gotta love honors classes at inner city High Schools.  I took all the knowledge I was given directly and indirectly, the secrets that were shared with me and those that I managed to over hear and I taught myself about the always confusing creature so many of us know and love - THE BLACK WOMAN.  Once I got the hang of things all I had to do was finish puberty and eventually in college gain some weight (becuz as a kid I was narrow azz hell- okay more like boney).  But as I grew physically I also grew mentally and honed my skills (my charm and "other" talents)

So now here I am all these years later a nice looking man - yeah I could be considered eye candy by some, who is a kind, sensitive, caring, truthful/honest - to a fault but never maliciously, man who takes care of himself -mentally and physically, who is not afraid to get a pedicure and a manicure, and also happens to be a good listener... And while I'm throwing stuff out there I don't even mind shopping and helping pick some of my female friends pick out clothes/outfits ... 

Now reflecting on that list of points even I could see somebody who didn't know me could think... well dayum isn't he gay? And don't get me wrong I can understand the confusion, if I wasn't so obsessed with women/the female form or the fact that I profess my love of them so much I might be confused too - but some would say that is just DL camaflouge...  I mean after Karamo came out on the Real World (and mentioned he is attracted to manly men who have the hip hop flavor)...and the "whole new" DL (down low) era where any blackman that could even loosely be tied to the quick to die label METROSEXUAL brothers have been running from becoming the down low poster boy...

Now where does all this come from you may be saying   (if you have read this far).  Well here I go (finally) I have always had this dilema when it comes to my female friends (and I have way more female friends than male friends)... It just so happens that when they decide "okay, he is a good friend" they also without fail toss me right into that "straight-gay friend box".  By straight-gay friend I mean my female friends: tell me all their secrets and adventures, let me know female/feminine issues, prance aroudn dayum near nekid in front of me (nekid in some cases), ask me for relationship advice, ask for advice on how to enhance their sex lives, drag me to go shoppin with them, gossip with me, and even sometimes catch themselves slippin and refer to me as girl (and if you know my name you know that only helps the situation).  There is only one problem... I'm NOT GAY!!!!!(not even for pretend)  Now I know some people are quick to say, well you're married so you have to go in some box and it's not really a bad thing considering that you have so many female friend, but I must confess this box does become a frustrating existance.  And to be honest this is not a new thing.  I have been forced into this box long before I ever had a name for it.  (I actually had to ask another one of my bi-female friends, who proclaims herself loud and proud a certified "fag-hag" which order would be more appropriate for me straight-gay or gay-straight and she confirmed straight-gay would be me).  I suppose if I didn't think so highly of my female friends and didn't want them to go thru such struggle and strife I might be less annoyed by the lable... Hell it might also help if my female friends didn't happen to look like a scoop of "gotdayum" wrapped in a slice of "lawdhelpmeplease". 

It has become a status I have had no choice but to accept but ever now and then I just get frustrated with the reality that I'm the friend on the inside of that box which also doubles as a brake glass in case of emergency type box.

I also think having to explain the concept to a new friend of mine has really made me feel the need to let this out.  I mean she was telling me that its hard being attractive and not knowing if a man wants her for her looks/body or for her the person she is.  And I told her that I could feel where she is coming from because I hear that story like I'm hearing a password for the new underground railroad.  As the one who has to hear this same story over and over and over always coupled with the "you don't understand" line... I finally decided to explain to her in the best way that I could its hard being the straigh-gay friend... and I don't think our plight is ever heard.  I mean how in the world am I supposed to feel knowing I'm a man who is into women but I'm left to be treated like that great gay friend most women long to have in their lifes? 

I don't think women realize that when they toss an attractive man into that box you might be doing major damage to his psyche/ego because he has to wonder, "dayum am I just not cute enough?" and of course the answer is always something along the lines of, "Well its not like that, its just that your such a good friend" or my favorite "Well maybe if I didn't think of you as such a good friend/person I would, but I don't want to ruin the one good male friendship I have".... Now mind you I can understand the plight, but then when I began to hear about new acquisitions in their lives I'm like WTF?!?!? didn't you just say you want a friend? couldn't you make that dude your straight-gay friend? How is it that I'm good enough to be the ear, the heart, the soul, but not the pleasurer? I even went so far as to ask this same young lady, "So if I would have treated you shitty and not be kind to you then you would want me?" and all she could do was look back at me with the doe eyes and say, "Well... you know... but... see its not like that". 

I realize this may come across as arrogant pschobabble but I mean it was really and trully on my mind (I started this blog Saturday at 3:05 am and made sure I didn't share it with the public until I got it out and got it right). So ladies if you happen to have a staight-gay friend that you have forced into limbo in your world at least take the time to be nice to them... do something nice for them... take em to lunch... buy them a movie.... hug em really close.... I would suggest some other things but of course that would run head long into the "I don't want to mess up a good friendship area". 

really? (yeah it was random thinking)

so I've started working out again... well not really working out more like walking again.  Hopefully I'll be able to find my peaceful place that I once was able to go to when I was going for daily walks last year.  This week has been such a... interesting week, for lack of better terms.  I've reached a point where my patience with my job has grown painfully short and I'm really hoping that I don't just go WAY left on somebody and really tell them how I feel about this job.  My personal life is actually peppered with a variety of things but right now i can definitely say that I've reached a place that is much better than I had been feeling over the past month and a half or so.  I've had some ups and some downs, the brightest part of it all has been the people in my life that have been there to hold fast like anchors holding me down... school has been alright I've been working on finding a comfortable medium where I'm okay with doing what I have to do but not beating my head against the wall trying to get 100 on every single thing in life at the cost of the few shreds of sanity I have left.  My son helps keep my spirts up as well just this past week he wow'ed his daddy with his amazing ability to count from 1 to 10 and by sitting on my shoulders and pounding on my head with them bear paw like hands (that he inherited from me) while singing the alphabet.  It amazes me to see the growth in him because it makes me happy and anxious.  I look forward to the things that he will do... though I don't quite know what they will be, but whatever it is I look forward to it.  With him sharing his expert knowledge with me, and hearing Morgan Freeman say "Muthaphuka" in Wanted and hearing Jill Scott say "Fuck You" before breaking into "Hate on Me, Haters"... I could have almost had one of the best weeks ever... somebody call the E channel lol.

tumultuous

in a time where thoughts and actions can't align themselves

because they are ever shifting

sliding back and forth over each other with the ease of tectonic plates

causing emotional eruptions, mountainous ranges of frustration

oh what I wouldn't give for the peace of mind found in the plains

where things are laid smooth and recognized for what they are

the potential for what could be hides in the forest and the trees

sitting in the shade waiting to be seen, content with being acknowledged

sometimes even the babbling brook is too loud for the silence needed

to calm the mind

un dame

potential is your muse - its your thing and I can't be mad at that

we can’t help but see inspired romance can build

to a lust laced explosion

splattering emotions all about

raining down on us like drops of rain from on high

trickling down our faces plastering our clothes to ourselves

freeing captured heat from asphalt prisons

steaming the wrinkles out of our brows

leaving us as beautiful as we were

when we didn't know that we were the dreams we had had while awake

broken alarm clock

you see it's not that i settled

seems more like i'm part of a settlement

sometimes when i wake up

i think i'm going to open my eyes on what i thought was

and not that which has become a life of pain

bewilderment, wondering, and wandering

will be a sad, sad nightmare that made me toss and turn

because this wasn’t what i signed up for

the box showed something better

or maybe the box showed right then but not right now

i didn’t keep the receipt, didn’t think it would be important

no warranty, some scratch and dent

seems that the steal i thought i had was stolen

whisked away right under my nose

you see its not that i settled

its more like i'm part of a settlement

paying for past transgressions from a life i don’t recall

plodding along in purgatory, placing pieces where they fit

knowing that the door is there

but not sure i’m willing to walk through it

praying and pushing and hoping and praying

that one day i’m going to open my eyes on what i hoped for

and i’ll realize that the sad, sad nightmare that made me toss and turn

is gone and i’m actually where i’ve always thought i would be